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Sunday, January 27, 2008

Georgia On My Mind



Red Canna
by GC SMITH

Come
taste the
addictive
pearl drops
of heaven's
sweet hot
nectar

Live, love,
enfolded
in dreamscape
from which
no escape
is ever
to be

Georgia's turmoil;
encompassing,
enrapturing,
possessing;
a surreal
dream or a
nightmare?

Who,
but you
can ever
know
what might
lie in bone
beneath the skin

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Which side?

This Way or That
By GC SMITH

Won’t
You be my
leftish
brainy
baby

Could it be
your brain is
right
(er, correct)or
maybe not

Won’t you
engineer
a poem;
build an
impressionistic canvas

That might be
right
(er, correct)
or maybe
not

Come on, baby
use this
side or that,
or damn all,
why not both

Give me
stuff
to sort
to figure
out

Tangle
art and
practicality;
create
a useful beauty

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Gone, never to ...

Where Have They Gone
By GC SMITH

Cisco and Pancho,
Roy and Gabby,
Batman and Robin,
images, yet near real

John's and Martin's dreams,
Harry's buck stops here,
FDR and Winston's guts;
these were the real men.

Where have the heroes gone?
It's been so very long since
we could look up and see
the men who cared and did.

Now polls and opinions
drive the would be men
whose small and venal ways
would squander our birthright.

Will we ever meet them again?
Will there ever be successors
to history's roll call of real men
who thought and fought for right?

Perhaps we'll see a day
when light shines brightly
illuminating a man or men
who are worthy of our trust

So I'll end this with the cliché
that man's hope springs eternal
and I'll say we're lucky that it's so
or we'd have nothing but despair.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Shorty

Ma Nature's Blankets
by GC SMITH

Liking the lichen
loving nature's deep green moss
stuff is fuzzy soft

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Black Hole

Rushing To
By GC SMITH

Cannibal maw
black shrouded
chomping down
on stars and moons,
snacking on planets,
makes one think
of mankind

Eating our
dead,
devouring
some live,
convinced
God’s word
directs us

Watch them
woosh by
planets, stars, moons
lost to dark vacuum,
disappearing,
never
reappearing

And mankind
to where?
to heaven, to hell?
maybe up,
perhaps down,
certainly
to worms

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Hooked

Love Jones
GC SMITH

Hooked;
can't shake
the love Jones.

Love Jones;
like craving chocolate
but so damn much worse.

Love Jones;
tempts and teases
like Irish whiskey neat.

Love Jones;
like smack it starts easy
then demands everything.

Love Jones;
gotta have her;
there ain't a choice.

Love Jones:
stuck with it;
fuckin' addict.

Damn

Downer
By GC SMITH

Come home from da job dead tired beat. Me an’ Muscles spent da day demolish’n ol’ plaster walls in a River Road mansion. Dust an’ horse hair in da air all day. Miserable hot. Talk ‘bout sweat o’ da brow, dat job was it.

Muscles drop me off ta home an’ dere in da yard is dat flame paint mota-cycle dat TT sellin’. Hot damn, I figger Dupree had it all wrong. Colleen gone an’ bought dat bike fo’ me. Whoo-boy, dis guy’s one happy fella.

I get me inside da house an’ dere on da coffee table is a pink crash helmet. Dat strike me weird. In da kitchen I ova-hear Colleen on da phone (I figger wit her sista) tellin’ all ‘bout da mota-cycle she done bought fo’ herself.

I turn ‘rond, go out da door, an’ head fo’ Dupree’s place. Coupla col’ ones might could smooth out my low-down state o' mind. Maybee.

Friday, January 4, 2008

More on da Mota-cycle

Ain’ Gonna Happen
By GC SMITH

TT say he ain’ gonna let me test drive his mota-cycle. He says he rememba da las’ time I tried out a fo’ sale bike. Bugga kicked out when I twisted da throttle. Me an’ dat mota-cycle got us dumped in da Bayou. TT’s sayin’ dere’s no way in heaven he gonna let dat happen wit his mota-bike.

If he ain gonna let me try out da machine den dere ain’ no way he gonna sell it to me. I doan neva buy no pig in da poke.

Good ting is I won’t be havin’ no argument wit my Sweetie. An’ dat’s as best as it can be.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Mota-cycle

Maybe Not
By GC SMITH

Da kickin’ back, like all good tings, need to come to an end. It’ January da third an’ time now to get back to work. Gotta make me some money. Got my eye on a fine ol’ Harley dat TT Broussard just finish restorin’. Dat’s one nice bike, flame paint job, lotsa chrome, big ol' buddy seat, leatha saddle bags. Da nine yards.

Dupree say dat Colleen betta not fin’ out dat I’m plannin’ on buying dat bike. He says Colleen’ll raise Cain an he also say dere ain’ no doubt dat dat woman is able. Dat’s da troot, but I cain’ let a woman tell me how to live life.

Still, I could might think it ova before buyin’ da machine.

Dat’s what I tink, me.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Da New Year

Bon’ Annee
By GC SMITH

Da New Year rolled in an’ I’m kickin’ back an’ relaxin’ today. Dat’s da only way after da big party New Year’s eve down to Dupree’s place an’ alla dat getting’ together wit friens’ on da firs' day o' da year fo’ da traditional Hoppin’ John an collards. (We et some Jambalaya too.)

Was a big year dat 2007. Wasn’t no hurricane come tru da Bayou country. Me an’ da beauteous Colleen got us together. We got us a coupla good contracts to restore some ol’ ante-bellum Plantation houses an’ we made us made beaucoup bucks. We got Colleen’s cousin Knuckles outta Angola, even if he did haf’ to go back fo’ a day an’ ride in da prison rodeo. An’ we had good ol’ times dancin’ an’ socializin’ every Friday and Saddurday nite down to Dupree’s place. Lotsa pig roasts, crawfish boils, etoufee cookoffs , an’ odder good times. Tipped our share o’ col’ ones togetha, we did.

Fadda LeBlanc is suggesstin’ hard dat Coleen an’ me tie da knot in 2008 an’ we juss might do dat. We gonna tink hard on it. Meantime, I’m kickin’ back an’ waitin’ fo’ nex Monday. LSU gonna whup Ohio good an’ soun’.

Dat’s what I say, me.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Texas folk

Change of Fortune
By GC SMITH

I cranked up my old Ford 150 and hauled ass out of Waco. Hadda go. She was getting nasty. Demanding stuff. Threatening to get her brother, the bad ass Deputy Sheriff, on me. Hell, I didn’t have two nickels to rub together and she’s demanding money from me. Ain’t like we ever had a kid. I don’t owe the bitch a thing.

Whoa dawg, who’s that standing on the shoulder wavin’ her hands. Oweee, fine lookin’ woman. Looks like she got some trouble with that shiny maroon Caddy she’s standin’ next to. Better pull over and see if I can help her.

Been with her a week now and I ain’t never had it so good. Parked my whiskey bumped old pickup in her barn and I’m using the Caddy. She’s footing the bills. New clothes, best restaurants, her soft bed, and damn, having her. Oh, sweet. I’m up in hog heaven. Too bad her husband will be coming home tonight.

I picked up a new spade at the Tru-Value this afternoon. It’s in the Caddy’s trunk. Tomorrow’s time enough.