There was once a poetry blog
that nobody posted to.
They found its remains
In a red wheelbarrow
***
art music poetry
Quick Poem by David Michael Jackson
Quickly
by David Michael Jackson
Write fast
don”t stop
let me hear those keys click
don”t you dare look up
you might miss this moment
out there
some where.
my soul on the paper
life ticks and tocks
the time away
slowly
one long endless moment
at a
time
waiting
waiting
for
something.
Don”t look up
you might
miss it.
This moment
p a s s e s
now this other moment
r e p l a c e s it
Each long
moment laughs at the setting sun
and
life passes
so
quickly.
***
Carry Me Home Poem by David Michael Jackson
Carry Me Home
By David Michael Jackson
Carry me home
home to the creek
and the water
and the leaves on the trees.
Carry me home
past the worry and the frantic pace to
the water and the dew on the grass
and the summer days
when grasshoppers are plentiful bait for
the fishes.
Carry me home to the field
and the newly plowed earth
and that smell of the soil
recently
turned
so that I may replant myself with hope
for a new
harvest,
so that I may kill the weeds which have grown over me until
I cannot see the light.
Carry me home past the roads, past
the buildings, past the red lights.
Carry me home through the darkness of a thousand nights spent
grasping for something which is not there, something which
could
never be there or
anywhere
Copyright © 1998 by David Michael Jackson, All rights reserved
***
Plan B Poem by Thomas Kellar
PLAN B
you and me
terminal union
cancer full-blown
no chance of re-mission
we work hard
not to notice
outside
back porch
I sip cheap red
strum a cracked and buzzing
harmony six string
tell the stars
to go fuck themselves
upstairs
on your back
in bed
Cosmo opened
across your chest
you whisper
something to someone
on the phone
downstairs
in the kitchen
under the ironing board
the 3 year old sits
blissfully occupying himself
with a green, rubber,
T-Rex toy
welcome to plan B
much time ago
I was to be a writer
of words and music
you were going to travel the world
a single woman
scoring brown-skinned boys
taking in the sights
but as in figure 8 racing
we “discovered” each other
an “accident waiting to happen”
made ourselves giant targets
easy marks
lowest form of idiot
the “little-man”
has no such regrets
no fear for what’s future
he’s like a sponge
soaking up the moment
laughing to himself
as he and imaginary friend
slip past the angel
sent to guard Eden’s gate
Copyright © 1998 by THOM KELLAR, All rights reserved
***
To Miles Davis and John Coltrane Poem by Thomas Kellar
KIND OF BLUE
What Miles Davis was
to melody
John Coltrane was
to virtuosity.
black giants
in white-bread world
mixing up a masterpiece
branding iron hot-glacier cool
tornadoes and sea breezes
shouts and whispers
bold slashing strokes-lines straight, and razor thin
the frenetic energy of a humming bird
the economized motion of a crow
muted trumpet-raging tenor sax
“Kind of blue”
2 of a kind
heaven squared
***