UNTITLED
he speaks it plainly
like simple cotton cloth
like grain
simple grain in the field
he says it purely
not bundled
not cooked
raw
he says it plainly
like the wind
and not the metaphor of the wind but
the
wind itself
making noise in the
trees
David Michael Jackson Poems
Hot Day Poem by David Michael Jackson
These Moments
by David Michael Jackson
These moments lead to other slow,
oh so slow, moments leading to endless
eternities.
If the universe exploded once,
it will explode again leaving us with
that question,
floating over the horizon like
simple dew drops,
waiting for the hot summer sun to leave them
seemingly
gone,
seemingly vanished into the noontime
of a hot day with a hoe in my hand in
the field,
the hot field of a farmer’s son.
Stream of Conciousness Poems by David Michael Jackson
So Here We Are
By David Michael Jackson
poets know about letting go
about the stream which flows
like thin molasses on a hot day
red and orange dolphins
swimming in the purple sea
of my thoughts
but…
you already know
the water which flows like a
cliche into your
consciousness from my
consciousness
you already know
how the arms hang long and thin
and the fabric lays just so
you already know of the wetness of the street
in the darkness
you already know
of the fingers in your hair and
the lips
so there we are
again once again
in the twilight, trying to remember the
dawn
so here we are
and here we
have always
been
Copyright © 1998 by David Michael Jackson, All rights reserved
***
Sit in a Cubicle Poem by David Michael Jackson
VE VURK ‘TIL VE DROP
can we civilize the salamander
make him
sit in a cubicle
for eight hours
exactly
The animals don’t stand for any of that crap
my dog knows what is important
it is important to sniff at that bush
I
on the other hand
have trouble with
the importance of things
and other people
like me who
don’t allow themselves time to sniff
the air for
anything really
important
really
other people like me
don’t have time for that bush
unless
it is landscaped into our orderly little lives like
the trees in our yard which are
planted just so
and
made to look just so
like
that
was
important
but
my dog knows what is important
and I,
we
unfortunately
have
forgotten
– David Jackson
***
To the Bed Pan Person Poem by David Michael Jackson
Nursing home
Clean white
dry sheets
every day now.
There are the memories of another place
another time
wet sheets every day
bladder infection
kidney failure.
No don’t think about it, he says.
The bed pan persons
are doing the job
as important as the doctors
as the nurses
totally
un
heralded
There is a place for you
in my tears
We need
heaven
for you