Modern Talisman

There's a book
I keep by the side of my bed.

I got it
at the estate sale
of a woman who had lived
to be one hundred and three
(and still had all her teeth,
said the daughter).

It's called "Forever Young,"
a thin book
about
ways to stay healthy
and live longer.

I flipped through it
and noticed
starred passages
and underlining.

I purchased it
for a quarter.

On the surface,
I pretend I will read it
one day
and learn its amazing secrets.

But really,
it's a talisman
from a powerful wizard
and I'm keeping it
for its arcane
magical powers
to extend my life.


-Jim DuBois
Dec 28, 2011

About D--th

About D--th
(whose name is so evil
I will never say it):
It is a robbery of what is most precious: [life]

No true God condones d--th
with fairy tale stories of heaven.

No religion that says you get another life
(which only pacifies you into accepting the BS of d--th,
never gives you another life)
is hopeful.

F--k the d--th penalty!
Everyone who thinks it is a good thing
is seriously deluded.
How can we steal like that?

But murderers? F them too!
and warmongers
and greedy killer capitalists
and anti-environmentalists
and racists
and everyone who profits off of war
F F F them.

Don't think I will go quietly.
If it comes down to it,
I'll use my last breath to say,
"This is robbery! Scr-w the cruel god that made it this way. And F the random universe, too."

There is only life,
whose name I will say
over and over:
Life! Life! Life!

I want to keep it,
to promote that it is the most important thing we have,
and strive to preserve it.


-Jim DuBois
August 24, 2010

because you told me

I woke up
as a bad-ass madman poet,
stalking downtown,
daring you to cross me,
to try to fuck me over,
because you told me to "break"
and what you don't know is
I never will,
but then I felt
a horrible desperate loneliness,
injected behind my eyes like fire,
melting my neurons together,
seizing my limbs,
and it was a feeling the night couldn't cure
and fucking can only hold at bay
and fucking and fucking and fucking
can only hold at bay.


-Jim DuBois
12/11/08

Already

The time
          is already
                wasted

The dream
          is already
                gone


-Jim DuBois
2001?

A Veces

A veces,
solamente
la luz del corazón


-Jim DuBois
Sep 11, 2011

Saying

Just remember
what
my dear old
imaginary dad
used to say,

"If I got
a key to your house,
I'm gonna
eat
your Fritos."


-Jim DuBois
Nov 6, 2011

I like jars

I like jars
I'm 36
I'm your secret boyfriend

Do you want
to see my antlers?


-Jim DuBois
Jan 14, 2006

Early Morning

Early morning is like
    a foreign country,
populated mainly
    by birds
      and
      empty soda cans



-Jim DuBois
April 26,1999

wtf #2

crumble jacket oxygen salt oil abduction
summer blast maple smudge battery bombast
strict chalk vine bungle brake return


-Jim DuBois
April 15 2005

essential rhythm fish

Blind wet candy wax
worry dog window cake
translucent thing think
essential rhythm fish


- Jim DuBois
c 1999

Lying

When we were 7 or 8,
we used to piss
off the stone wall
by the street.

Jeff's father
asked him
if we did.

Jeff said no.
His father said
"that's called lying."

After that, we'd say
"I have to lie"
and go piss
off the wall.


-Jim DuBois
April 19, 2005

Wading Through Time

Wading through time
    like drunken soldiers,
killing time
    wasting time,
    like totally wasting it, man

Like some kind of
        Lazy heroes


-Jim DuBois
2004?

Bulldozing my Childhood

They are bulldozing my childhood,
burying my memories
under the foundations
of another new subdivision,
quietly making a buck,
and severing some nasty roots
to make way
for another american dream.


-Jim DuBois
1999?

First Love (running through the snow)

All we really had were those shining moments,
    sleeping together
        under the grey wings
            of winter,

Running through the snow
    beneath the sheltering sky
        between long dreams
            and desires for which we
                had no voice.


-Jim DuBois
Summer 1997

What Was Revealed

Like someone turning up the volume
    when you didn't know the music was playing

Like scattering clouds from
    the face of the sun

Like a thousand folded days
    stuffed into fragile boxes
    and thrown to the wind,
        blooming like instant flowers
            wherever they land,
        growing like vines
            that hold the world together.


-Jim DuBois
April 21, 2004

Say Something!

Many years ago now,
I had this unbearable
crush on a librarian
at the Forbes library.

It was the kind of crush
that left me
unable to talk
in her presence.

I would go by
every few days
and get out books
just to see if she
was there,
and invariably,
if she was,
utter a timid thanks
and leave.

It was so unbearable
that I resolved one day
to say something
next time,
no matter what.

(Now, I must tell you
that I have made
resolutions of that nature
before
and they usually don't work
- one time I had resolved
to say something
to a woman I kept seeing
on the sidewalks downtown
and the pressure built up
so much
that I
jumped behind a tree
to hide
the next time
I saw her coming.)

So, I go to the library
and my crush is there.

She takes my book
to check it out
and I am saying
(in my head,)
"Do it! Say something!
Now is the chance!
Seize the day!
You never know what will happen!"
but I'm feeling like
it will be very awkward.

This battle continues
for a bit
as I stare down
at my library card
in my hands.

Then I look up,
and say (out loud),
"My library card
is made out of paper!"

There is this brief
yet horrifying pause
and then she says,
sounding eager to talk to me,
"Oh yes, and now,
you can get plastic ones!"

And that was
real progress for me.

I planned to follow it up
on other days,
with equally chatty statements,
but unfortunately,
that was the last time
I ever saw her.


-Jim DuBois
August 24, 2011

After the Funeral

After the funeral,
there was nothing to say
which was not awkward,
nothing to say
which did not seem cliche,
but I kept trying anyway.

I talked to the father
of the deceased man.
I said things like
"It's very sad."
We didn't look at each other
and he said something like,
"I feel terrible,
especially for my grandson,"
and looked up at the trees
and shed some tears.
A half minute later,
he said something like,
"but we've got to get on with life,
and try to help the people
left behind."

I figured out that that moment
between us, however awkward,
however brief,
was important
because it was about caring,
and that what I said
didn't matter as much
as that I cared.

So, when the parents
of the deceased were leaving,
I went up to the mother,
and took her hand
and looked her in the eye
and said as warmly
as I have probably ever
said anything,
"take care."


-Jim DuBois
July 28, 2011

Yes, the Rain

There is a first time
we each heard the rain,
or felt the wind,
or saw the sun.

Even now,
there are four new infants
who can't yet wonder
"what is rain?"
or
"why is there rain?"

They can just
hear it.


-Jim DuBois
Aug 15, 2011

Uncle Fred

After the funeral
I met uncle Fred,
a talkative, friendly,
older Jewish man.

On his way out,
he said to me,
"So, you'll be up here
taking care of Rachel,
since you live nearby, right?"

I flushed, not being used to
being given direct commands,
but said, "yes, absolutely."

I thought that since he didn't know me,
and couldn't be there himself,
he was making sure the family
was taken care of,
letting me know
the importance of that.

I told this story
to his daughter,
who I met months later,
and said how I was impressed
and appreciated his directness.

She said,
"Uncle Fred's not usually
so direct,
but he is
an excellent judge of character."



-Jim DuBois
July 22, 2011

New Notebook

New notebook,
                ($3.99)
new one dollar pen,
new poem...

Argh! The pressure!
Don't crack under
the pressure, man!

Grrr....
alright, got that
outta the way.



-Jim DuBois
July 12, 2011

Spring Peepers

I heard the first spring peepers
the night after
_______ got put
in the psyche ward
at Cooley-dick

Somehow those little frogs
didn't get the news
that life has a hard edge,
somehow those little frogs
kept singing


-Jim DuBois
April 2, 1998

Nothingness

- Jim DuBois
2008 and before

Art

Sometimes you have to
tell your story
through art or poems
just to get a sense
of how magnificent
it really was.

-Jim DuBois
June 25, 2011

These New Pens

Inauguration
  of these new pens --
it reminds me
of many other times,
recorded by similar pens
and similar neurological alchemy
which turns ink scribbles
into meaning.


-Jim DuBois
June 17, 2011

Summer Solstice

Summer Solstice, June 2011.
A cricket?
That little fucker's early!


-Jim DuBois
June, 2011

Romance/Science

How do you cross that line
between talking
and dating?

I want to compare it to
crossing the event horizon
of a black hole.

You might not notice as you cross
but you are on your inevitable way
to that intense and singular point

And no information
can return to the outside world
to let anyone know how it finally happened.

On the other hand,

I want to put romance
into a high-powered particle accelerator
and smash it to it's elemental bits

So we can make lists
that say things like,
"romance always has at least 130 billion quarks."

Then we won't have to
ponder the mystery any longer.
Instead, if things aren't happening,

You can study the lists
and say,
"more quarks, my friend, more quarks!"



-Jim DuBois
May 22, 2011

Gone

Gone,
for a little while
playing flute by the swamp
-- only the birds knew me


-Jim DuBois
June 5, 2011

in a dangerous state

Went out in a dangerous state,
totally relaxed
and without desperate desires.

Felt very awake and aware.

Invisible and brightly burning
at the same time.


-Jim DuBois
May 14, 2011

Reading Jean-Paul Sartre

I'm reading
    Jean-Paul Sartre
    for a laugh,

for the deep angsty zen,
for the anguish we can't escape,
for the anguish that we are.


-Jim DuBois
May 10, 2011

__ of __

Son of
    improbably intelligent primates

Offspring of
    supernovas of primordial stars

Descendent of
    quantum fluctuations in the early universe


-Jim DuBois
May 9, 2011

To The Boats!

To the boats!
One of our tribe has died.
Paddle hard across the treacherous waves
until the light returns.

One of our tribe has died.
Race the stormclouds!
until the light returns
and the water settles.

Paddle hard across the treacherous waves.
To the water!
To the boats!
We must move fast now.

To the boats!
Until the light returns.


-Jim DuBois
Sept 7 - 15, 2010

Noticing

Late at night,
the clean sink,
the dream catcher,
memories of clear light
in the afternoon.


-Jim DuBois
April 12, 2011

Watching The Frightened Men

At the Roost,
watching the frightened men
whose relationships
are mediated
by alcohol and women.


-Jim DuBois
April 9, 2011

At Least

At least
there's people
downtown.

At least
there's people
at The Roost.

At least
there's a chance
of human contact.


-Jim DuBois
March 30, 2011

A Chance

Sometimes,
a chance
is all you need.


-Jim DuBois
March 30, 2011

I've Been Struggling Lately

Sitting at the Roost
in the middle of the day
feels so desolate,
but much less than
sitting on a stone stoop
on market street,
wishing for friends.

But then I glanced
at someone's laptop
and discovered they
were playing
Settlers of Catan online
and realized they were killing time too,
faking activity,
distracting themselves from desolation,
and it made me a little happier.

(Because I usually imagine
that everyone else
has lots of friends
and deep meaningful lives
and that I,
somehow,
was the only one who got screwed
out of those things)

And I won't let myself
end on that note,
because I have meaning in my life,
it's just that
I've been struggling lately,
like all humans
sometimes do.


-Jim DuBois
March 30, 2011

Two Old Men After a Funeral

1.

Two old men,
patriarchs of their families,
leaning against the porch rail
after a funeral
- they thank me
for all the work
I have done
to take care of
their daughter and grandson.

I am caught off-guard
by my emotions.

I search for a reply,
then say,
"I felt it was important."

One of them replies,
"It was...
  it is."

And I carry on.



2.

Two old men
after a funeral
remind me
that to care and to love
are important.

Two old men
after a funeral
pass down
ancient primate wisdom
and responsibilities.



-Jim DuBois
September 8, 2010

The Roost - #3

They're playing Madonna
at The Roost,
and I'm writing
and waiting for Phil.


-Jim
March 12, 2011

The Roost - #2

Sitting at The Roost,
wearing a spandex shirt
I inherited from
a fairly recently deceased friend.

It's too short,
and when I reach,
I worry
everyone will see
my underwear.


-Jim
March 12, 2011

The Roost - #1

Sitting at the Roost,
pretending to be an intellectual,
or at least to be busy,
by writing thoughts in my notebook.

Sitting at the Roost,
wishing for more friends,
or at least for closer ones,
hoping to engage a human via technology.

Sitting at the Roost,
in the corner,
on the couch,
drinking tea
and writing,
to kill time,
or at least to try and enjoy it.


-Jim
March 12, 2011

not trying

This is me
This is me not trying

I'm bored
    and directionless

But the rain
                    sounds pretty



-Jim
March 10, 2011

mediocre

WHy keep on
    with the mediocre?

    Like this pen.

I feel like I shouldn't
    waste things.

Which isn't a bad idea,
    but if it is applied
    too rigidly and keeps you
    in a rut,
  isn't so helpful.


-Jim
Dec 17, 2010

Promises

Before you died,
we knew you were sick
for a long time
and I always imagined
being there
for your final moments
and promising you
that I
would always
be there for your son.

(But) when your end came
you were unconscious
and in a different state
and it turns out
that those imagined moments
were disguised promises
to myself.


-Jim
Sep 15, 2010

gotta write a poem

gotta write a
gotta write a poem

      "When in the course of..."

No, no!
Not right

gotta write a poem

      "I think that I shall see..."

No!

Done



-Jim
Feb 20, 2011

My Church

My church
is the sun
and the dirt
and now.


-Jim

you gave up hope

I'm sorry
you gave up hope
so long ago

-- but cut it out!

the world needs you back.


-Jim
Jan 28, 2011

Long Dream of the Stars

...like galactic sentinels
...like guideposts
...like will-o-the-wisps
    of the deep vast cold

...like angry protesters
    of the darkness
...like fiery anchors
    dropped into space
...like mitochondria
    of an emerging super-being


-Jim
Jan 31, 2011

There's Still Time

There's still time
    to surprise me,
    to show up randomly at my door
    and pledge yourself
        to the revolution
        and to me,
    to don your old heroic gear
        and enter the battle
        once more,
    to open up your mouth
        and say no
        to the things that need
        to be said no to,
    to stand up,
    to fight for love,
    to reach for other humans,
    to be brave,
    to open your heart.


-Jim DuBois
Jan 28, 2011

Return of the Slacker - The Book

I made a book out of the last three years of this blog, and you can get a copy, which contains all 182 entries, as well as a color print on the cover of a painting I made. It's really fun to have.

Get a copy here

Sweetheart

I hear the footsteps
  of my sweetheart
ascending the steps
  of our building

Now, all I have to do
  is meet her


-Jim DuBois
March 13, 1998

Soft and Tender Love Stories

-Jim DuBois,
c 2003