douglas brent smith

deep in the night all the joy here beside you feeling our spirits rise and converge deep in the night with the dance of holding folding our arms and our hearts as one deep in the night our darkness behind us the new secrets find us full and alive deep in the night as i turn to kiss you your eyes shine those signs of friendship and love. -- douglas brent smith  

  Sketch: "Concentration on Detail" by doug smith, 1978

always at the right moment you know a smile, a touch, a spontaneous poem and all the lights now happy midnight bright joys come soaring from you to me as we fly wing on wing with our promise of love our tender desire our strength of growing now and until all the candles  flicker out i will hold this flame with you. -- douglas brent smith  

Notes: Peter, Harry, and I started a little touring theatre company we called the Mustard Seed Theatre Company. We had very limited success for an all too brief amount of time. I later revived the name at churches in Chicago, and I'm sure that any search would uncover other theatre companies bearing that name, but we loved it while we proudly wore it on our t-shirts.  These sketches are modest attempts at logos. circa 1977-1978

 flame fast upon the styro foam underbelly of the rapidly freezing uncooperative ozone      (don't let it rain daddy) the initial waves hurt only a few misguided wild winking creatures grazing mesmerized by the new sun by the endless summer by the quick     (what about the cat daddy?) some say the continents shifted tectonic shifts wrecking slumber impact by the billions or so psychogestalt screams of urgently weeping innocents     (how much water do we have daddy?) the parthenon stood the eiffel blinked hancock shuddered general motors flinched but all carefully in place unharmed unscarred     (daddy what's wrong?) noah gasped christ wept and music cloned recklessly moaned recognizable melodies endgame moved into place bartered out castled and kinged winged flashing vacancy vacancy...vacancy...     (oh daddy it hurts) mimes muttered clowns frowned the  whole broken circus city state tumbled down cavernous cravings mist hot twisted vacancy sensate symbiotic ruptures seven drago

 What Is Real? sketch by douglas brent smith, (1977) Notes: Cece and I used to play a word game we called "What Is Real?" The idea was that we were all living in a movie, or simulation, or game, and only some of us and some things are real. It seemed a bit advanced for 1977 but I was reading a lot of science fiction at the time and Cece has always had a very open, very curious, very creative mind. It was fun. We'd also draw pictures, sometimes using a surrealist technique known as "exquisite corpse" where you each draw half of the picture, without seeing what the other person has drawn. The paper is folded in half with a couple of lines visible on both halves to show you where to connect the pictures. It was also fun. These sketches are just doodles from one of my journals.

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).