Worry and debate
sends hope far away
seldom do windows open into
reality
seldom do poets cry for nothing
for hope maybe
for love surely
for nothing never.
Simply write he says
simply write.
Do not stop to think.
Thinking is out of vogue with me.
Carry me there to the edge of
the water
to the side of the cliff
so I may see the river
so that I may hope again
hope for the natives who walked these ways
hope for me
again
***
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
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
***
Atoms
By David Michael Jackson
So I sat down to write the epic poem.
why not? There”s no reason,
there”s no reason in the universe.
Yes sit down my friend,
my good friend,
you look as if you are going to make the atoms themselves change.
Have a seat,
there is no hurry.
Make your visit.
Have a seat now.
What is your hurry?
Are you trying to get to the future? Well, I will tell you the future, so
have a seat,
and we shall not speak of the greeks for they are dead, and
we shall not speak of the impressionist painters for they are dead, and
no, I will not meet you upon this matter lightly
for it is hard to leave them all behind but,
you see this is a legal matter, the stars,
there are laws, you see
that say
that time
will go on
and the sun, and
the galaxy and the universe will
burn out, and
collapse and
end up
in a
dried
up
ball of
nothing
but
atoms, and
the works of
the
greeks, and
the
impressionist painters will
be
in that ball somewhere with
a strand
of my lovers hair,
so,
that”s it. Isn”t it? So I cannot write that epic poem and
I will drink instead of the wine, and
worship the
moment and watch my lover wash
her hair.
In the morning I shall walk in the field and gather flowers for her table. Tonight,
yes tonight we shall look at the stars and
wonder.
Copyright © 1998 by David Michael Jackson, All rights reserved
***