David Michael Jackson Poems

David Michael Jackson Doesn’t Exist Poem

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I do feel alone in my writing.
Like Emily
Like Vincent.
Also I feel my writing is for naught.
I am the poem in the night.
for some kid in Singapore.
My words are magnetic spots.
Nobody has a book.
My words are supported by 10 bucks to my host,
not by the world.
You see nobody put me on hard paper where I’ll be preserved.
I am the monks who make sand drawings
which are swept away.
I am the poem in the night.
If the kid in Singapore commented…that would be nice but
I’m still magnetic spots.
Not much different from real life
David Michael Jackson isn’t real
doesn’t exist.
Just ask Wiki or the Times.

H E Hasben Struck by Lightning in the Artvilla Parking Lot

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This just in:

H E Hasben was struck by lightning in the Artvilla parking lot  after posting his “My God Poem” late last night. Medics one the scene report that Hasben suffered burns on much of his body especially his rear end.

Our correspondent was able to obtain a statement from Hasben. “It was a clear night. There was a flash.”

Medical personnel say that Mr. Hasben will recover but his hair may be permanently singed and he has a faint smell of sulpher.

 

My God Poem by H E Hasben

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My God didn’t drown babies
because he was mad at adults.
My God didn’t leave babies in the rubble of some city
on purpose.
My God wouldn’t need to kill
babies
to convince any Pharaoh.
My God tortures no one
for eternity.
My God knows nothing of days nor seven days.
My God needs no
horsemen .

My God created
no perfect universe,
no unchanging Adam or Eve.
My God created evolution
and an imperfect universe where
imperfection creates change.

My God created
a universe that can explode again and again
if necessary,
a universe that is made up of space and
energy
that may last
forever.
My God gave me
forever.
I figure he has a lot of time on his hands
or her hands and
with a lot of time on his hands he’ll get
bored again
and need me
to
ask him stupid questions.
The angels are such yes men
and the people in heaven are such
an adoring crowd.
Surely he needs someone to
talk
to
but
If your God gets me
I’m a crispy critter
You gave me free will Lord.
Will you burn me for using it?
“He’s a good fellow and twill all be well.” **

** The Rubayyat of Omar Khayyam

 

 

Poems To Go

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Get a poem out.
Okay boys get those presses working.
The world is waiting for another poem.
Time is money in the poem business.

Get a bag of that angst
measure out that anger.

Gotta move.
We’re Poems to Go.
Man that window
they’ll be lining up soon.
Wrap those poems.
Here throw in some of this sadness
I got it from the wife.
It’s left overs
from that country song.

 

 

david michael jackson   April 22,2012