I looked and you weren’t there
in your chair
in the air
I looked and you were gone
long
gone
I found myself missing you
like air
or
water, necessary
for this place
and sanity
***
David Jackson
My Friends are Dead Poem by Andy Derryberry
My Friends are Dead
My friends are dead
The ones that are breathing
Have the dull glazed eye
Of a run over skunk
My friends are dead
There’s a lot of talk
But nothing’s said
And nothing’s heard
My friends are dead
Beaten down so flat
That they’ve become
Part of the pavement
My friends are dead
Before their time
From maladies
Of their own making
My friends are dead
Hardly shadows anymore
Of what they once were
A dwindling memory
My friends are dead
From self-inflicted
Wounds and not
The malice of enemies
My friends are dead
Because living got
To be so terribly
Terribly hard
My friends are dead
Because all the stuff
Wasn’t an answer
Just a big pile of crap
My friends are dead
Because too much thinking
Is a kind of sickness
A masquerading disease
My friends are dead
Bugs on the windshield
Of the speeding
SUV of life
My friends are dead
The songs are still there
But they can’t sing
Anymore at all
My friends are dead
I’ve heard it all before
Over and over
Again and again
My friends are dead
Piles of rocks
Pounded to pieces
By unknown hammers
My friends are dead
My friends are dead
My friends are dead
My friends are dead
My friends are dead
Echoes in the cavern
Of my head telling me
It”s lonely in here
***
Grass Poem by David Michael Jackson
water flows over rocks
bubbles from stone to stone
there is no stopping it as it flows slowly past me like the winds
yes the winds whisper
whisper softly
for me and the grasses sway for me
they are calling to you
this war
this war
this war
can you hear them calling
these grasses they grow
they grow silently swaying over our heros
this war
this war
this war
this poem
this poem
this poem
brushes of color
can you see it?
can you hear the grasses swaying for you
can you?
***
nothing matters poem by David Michael Jackson
It doesn’t matter
nothing matters I said as we left and
I was probably right
for once
well what did I get for it?
words left in a blog
that’s what I got
words in a damn blog.
Do you ever feel like you are
yesterdays blog?
nothing matters he said again as if waiting for
the punch line
Fuck Punch Fuck Judy
Fuck the punch line
nothing matters
least of all this
poem in the damn
night
this meandering life sputters a bit
and occasionally reveals the truth
you guessed it
***
Loneliness Poem by David Michael Jackson
poem about being left alone
poem of love
poem of loneliness
a poem in the night
to hold back the beast
just a little bit
a little silence in words
Oh paint me a picture of the wind in the trees
Oh sing me a song with clapping of hands
Oh carry me home with a chorus of
love
and remember the lost one in the night
writing poems
alone
***