Joe Clark Folk Song by David Michael Jackson

I’m not all that political. I have no record. I could not have lived my life as a mechanical engineer with one. The records we are creating with our outrageous number of people in corporate run prisons in the U.S. is racist . It is the sharecropping shanty shack of our times.. It is excluding large segments of our population.
When we create so many casual “felons”, mostly black and hispanic, we lose the ability to tell who is indeed dangerous and too many of our citizens end up living outside of our system.

I wrote this song and have assigned a Creative Commons license.

Joe Clark

Oh I can’t get a job cause
I sold that weed
to that cop in
ninety three
On the piece of paper they always ask me
have you had a felony
I was fighting my war on poverty
when the war on drugs got me
now there’s no work at all for me
no Social Security

Oh they threw my tail in the company jail
and threw away the key
so I told her to find her someone else
and forget about me

So I work at outside in hot and in cold
and we live in this trailer park
and when people ask me who I am
I say I’m….I’m Joe Clark

So I’ll build you a fence
and work in your yard
if ever there was a worker
that was Joe Clark
so if you’ll give me a chance
I won’t be a slob
I’m Joe Clark
and I need a job

Oh they threw my tail in the company jail
and they threw away the key
so I told her to find her someone else
and forget about me

by david michael jackson

USA Collage a Painting by David Michael Jackson

USA Collage
USA Collage
2015
by David Michael Jackson

Artist Statement:
Recycled art
1. Painted a large painting during Gulf War 1, 36″ x 24″
2. Somewhere during Gulf War 2 it gets big hole in the middle of it.
2. So I cut pieces out of it and glued them onto a panel 16″ x 20″
3. One more Gulf War and we can get this painting down to 8″ x 10″

Make it go out of date.

editors@artvilla.com

The Dream Poem and…

He Looked Around

He looked around
as if in a dream
knowing insignificance
and feeling it.
The water still runs
and the sky is still blue but
all of the people in all of the cars in all of the cities
are in his dream,
driving,
waiting in line,
dreaming, looking out, walking, running, being.

He throws these words on this page.
These words are dreaming words
on a dreaming page.

On the street in the rain.
The water falls and rushes noisily.

The poet floats like a forgotten leaf
toward the drain.

Weebley Waffles

weebly waffles
weebly waffles

Weebley Waffles went to Wambly Academy

and he ran down the Wambly halls

down the Wambly walks

to Wanglewhat Inn where

he ran smack into Wappley Walbright and where

Weebles became

all blarneyed and festered

“I’m leaving Wambly”,  Weebley said that day at Wanglewhat

Now, don’t get me wrong, Wappley Walbright knew of both
Wambly’s and Wanglewhat’s respect for Weebley.
Wappley said, “Weebley Waffles you wangblatt! Wambly needs you.”
“Have no more whiskey, Weebley” said Wappley

david michael jackson

The Poem That Ended War

poem that ended war

He writes a poem when he needs one

and sometimes they go here

or                    over                     here

and sometime they hang

there

like they might say something important in a line of thought

but always this word<-  or that -> word

leads

somewhere else, but it doesn’t matter.

Even matter doesn’t matter.

In a parallel universe this poem ended war.

In this universe

war is hell

and this is just a poem

wishing

like all of the other poems

for

peace.