douglas brent smith

some folks have no business inside an automobile they drive like crazy demons flaming nuts behind the wheel they brake too soon and turn too late to tease the highway horror fate and one day after nine to five they'll crush another once alive a crash at eighty painfully let's hope it's neither you or me. -- douglas brent smith  

oh the adventure of each evening easing softly into your arms feeling gently the warmth you offer the touch and kiss of loving the cool sweet comfort of trusting openly (such open) wings taking flight soaring with splendor in bliss- filled union oh the pleasure of each passion easing softly into you. -- douglas brent smith  

quickly spent all my money at a bar on paradise lane slipping jacks and kings to Fack drinking gin to ease the pain a redhead at the jukebox tossed a glance and smile at me but my libido was incognito and my head was out to sea four sheets to the wind dreaming other people's sins and counting on my quarters all the places that i'd been my hat's my only date tonight my buddy's got the bucks i've got a sweetheart in Chicago who i'm counting on for luck but it's long past midnight and i'm officially flagged drinking shots and eating slices of that cheese tomato pie. -- douglas brent smith

  Sketch by doug smith.

she went to college to earn her degree but midway thru was convinced to run free  some search from within for better results landed her awkwardly inside a cult now she's selling flowers to the cars at the light her parents convinced that her choice wasn't right like a zombie stone-faced tied to the cause the mission requires she side-step the law there must be a dozen or more deep inside armed and well drilled they are ready to fight the blockade does not even phase them a bit they shout to the masses that they will never quit two dozen people on one long lost trip grappling for reason and feeling it slip outgunned and outnumbered they were all apprehended the planned revolution was thoroughly ended. -- douglas brent smith

brick by brick the hard high wall around me began to fall with music so soft only intimate ears could hear when with that wonderful tenderness so overflowing in you you touched my aching concrete cynicism and kissed my world weary mind into dreams of singing laughs of growing and joys of being alive like each bare brick of that wall you slowly, oh so carefully dismounted the doubts freed the fears and with quiet little steps entered my heart in a halo of rebirth revealing that there were once two loves in my crowded carefully plotted closed-hearted life: my rusted roaming van and my faithful guitar and now as sunrise welcomes Spring as living brings new growth i joyfully see three. -- douglas brent smith  

  sketch: Pipe Organ (More of the Pipe Saga), by douglas brent smith During the period of time when I occasionally drew an addition to the Pipe Saga, my dad smoked a pipe. He had sense to quit later, but while he did the smell was wonderful. The pipes I drew were humorous and with a nod to the surrealists, especially Magritte who was at the time perhaps my favorite artist.  On a more fantastical note, I really would like to play that pipe organ, wouldn't you?

(pretty little almond eyes sleeping next to me breathing such sweet loving sighs questionless and free pretty little almond eyes snuggle close to me) with unexpected joy i find you with your welcoming radiance a once illusive happiness floods into my soul reckless and free a thousand wild laughing tingles glowing from the flow of days with you and nights with you and secrets we both know (high brown eyes h.b.e. waking next to me whispering about your dreams such sweet certainty pretty little almond eyes share this world with me.) -- douglas brent smith  

  Analysis Training Sketch with Stars, from journal #12, Never Doubt (1978).

 sketch from journal #12, never doubt, 1978. This is a drawing of Peter Hoff (now known as Zeke Peterhoff, and me, wearing our Mustard Seed Theatre Company T-shirts and apparently juggling with our minds. Good times.

sunlight shimmers in her eyes her breasts dance with each tiny breath whispering my name -- doug smith  

Notes: It was a lean time, surviving on peanut butter, pasta, and soup and enjoying the freedom that a wide-open schedule provided where even at work I could draw, write, compose. Ah, but I was young and my sense of humor perhaps more crude than good and cartoons like this resulted.  It's silly, but there it is.

if you catch me counting stars some night when i should be gazing into your eyes or if a tear drop forms when we should be  celebrating chalk it up to mystery or a muse chasing escaping vibrations but never blame your self and never doubt our love. -- douglas brent smith  

Notes: I remember as a child being fascinating by the concept of Figures in text books. Illustrations were often labeled Figure 1, Figure 2, etc. I wondered, "why don't they just print the title of the picture?" but never found out. In fun and tribute, I named this doodle Figure 1. It appears in journal #12, never doubt, 1978.

someone found sparkly yellow stuff, indifferent deep in the ground wet in pebbles too thick to drink too heavy for wheels small quantities scattered "let's make it money" they said "because it's so pretty..." now everybody wants what was  in fort knox as if every heavy clunk of gold held a genie inside with three wishes for riches and what do you  do with them but  wish for more gold -- douglas brent smith