Biography of Lindsay Smith
Born & educated in New Zealand. Played in Brass Bands from 9 years of age. Taught myself to play piano. Learned cello & started writing poetry seriously in HS
Qualified as a teacher in Christchurch, NZ. Studied singing with Arthur Bell. Music @ Otago Uni. Played bassoon for many years. Worked as a solo piano player in bars & restaurants. Played in pit orchestras & backed performing artists in various venues. Vocal coach for many stage shows. Taught in outback Australia, Singapore, Nuigini. Read widely including about the arts & anthropology of Oceania, Asia, India, China. Taijiquan player since 1971. Sketch & paint - see 'artslant.' Have been doing taijiquan & qigong 40+ years. Sometimes I return to NZ to visit relatives & to walk in the mountains.
Lindsay Smith's Works:
Skyhook published in 1971 by Caveman Press, Dunedin, NZ. Have contributed poems & stories to many sites on the net. Often under the name of 'crowsfly.'
Lindsay Smith Poems
We stumbled often on the stubble from sunrise until dusk grabbing fescue sheaves under each arm standing back to the wind to thrust the stalk butts into the earth
the chatter of children on the morning of Christ's emergence & a cat scratching at the door seeking the comfort of flames
To My Grand Daughter
At three weeks we took you out to Sizzlers to celebrate & you cried most of the time so Grandma leaving her dinner
gliding spontaneously without reason or desire no thought of being right or anything else herons skimming over water signwriters painting a banner
Opulent Riddles For The Fairies
to a dandy lion the rosy race no long supreme goes off so little slight admirings become polished blackened imagined gladiators
dedicated to Bill Robinson because he would have smiled. When I was a kid in a country the inspector of schools came to visit.
Wall Street Blues
Jukebox on the wall play us the number one the hit song, ‘The American Eagle has no brains it flies into walls.' Sarah the most mysterious person he hardly knew except for her outrageously wacky hat said,
Don't mind the mind, mine is empty much of the time.
Shoulder Under Arm Put Breezes Cleanser
sun flowers rise elegantly at dawn saluting the sun their faces follow our golden orb all day crossing the fields
On Sunday afternoon May 19 1968 I saw a senior citizen leak in the gutter in Montreal Street Christchurch opposite Pearson's Laboratory
sir jack threw up his bucket throat to the garlic moon crying 'our brains dropped out the back passage' & his hoarse tribe went up the purple onion
Where Is Your Place?
That day the tiny flies that are the native honey bees licked our skin for salt & it tickled. So the kids searched for the hive high in a tree
'I am one of those people who let's life wash over me' an old classmate said that to me after rehearsal at the Playhouse in the early 60s
dedicated to Bill Robinson
because he would have smiled.
When I was a kid in a country
the inspector of schools came to visit.
He called our sweet lady teacher
an excellent unit.
She didn't smile at that..
He called the girls Mary & the boys Horace.