The Golden Age

The Golden Age
     is now

The Golden Age
     is always  now

Me writing this,
     you reading it


-Jim DuBois
April 30, 2017

What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done, dandelion?
How will you pay your rent on this hillside?
Anton Chekhov was a doctor
and wrote great novels.
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done, dandelion?
What have you done, little butterfly?
What have you done, grassy hillside?
How will you fulfill your obligation to society?
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done?
How will you live?
What have you achieved?
What will your legacy be?
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done, dandelion?
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a musical prodigy at age 4.
Benjamin Franklin discovered electricity.
Genghis Khan conquered most of several continents.
What have you done, dandelion?

What have you done for America, Dandelion?
At least get a job selling lottery tickets and cigarettes
instead of absorbing the free sunshine all day.
Please, dandelion, please!
What will you do, dandelion?

What will you do?

-Jim DuBois
April 24, 2016

something essential

I don't know
if I've got this story
exactly right,
because it didn't happen
to me,
and I heard it
many years ago,
but I am sure
I retained
the essence of it.

My friend Juan,
who I think
was descended from
old Mayan kings,
had disappeared
from society for a while,
by hiding out
down below
those iconic cliffs,
on that beach
in California,
where he met this
Vietnam vet
who lived in a cave
and hunted fish
with a spear launcher
made with an old
bicycle inner tube.

Above them,
atop the cliff,
there was
a Buddhist monastery,
and Juan used to climb up
and pick fruit
from their garden
while they sat there
meditating
among the plants,
and they never
moved or said anything.

And for me,
that image captures
something essential
and beautiful
about life
that is hard to define.


-Jim DuBois
September 2015

The Secret Lives of Normal People

words on a page

Giving Up the Search

If we could give up
our search for perfection,
"the one",
that perfect place,
that perfect time,
that perfect person,
and accept the good
in what comes our way
or create good
in the here and now
when we need to,

we could embrace
more fully
these wonderful days and lives
we've been given,

but to accept now,
to accept that
there are no perfect people,
not even any perfect lives
or perfect moments,
is to lift up
your broken heart,
your old wounds,
those ancient fears and frustrations,
those delusions you labor under,
and say,
"This happened.
I can't fix it.
I can't change the past.
I didn't like it.
The world is not perfect.
Bad things happen in it.
There is suffering,
and pain,"

and that's harder than it seems,
but you can pause a moment,
and add,

"but there is goodness.
I have seen it.
I have done it.
I have been it."


-Jim DuBois
July 28, 2015

As I walked along the road

As I walked along the road
thinking about nature
            about vast uncivilized wilderness
            about technology destroying nature
I failed to notice the thick undergrowth by the roadside
                        the harmony of where I was
                        the perfect union of tar and tree
                                                    pavement and grass
                                                    myself and my surroundings

As I sat in my room
looking out the window
I failed to notice the glass in the panes
                        the dirt on the grass
                        my eyes


-Jim DuBois
Fall 1991

---

This was probably the first poem I wrote in my adult life, and it was kind of like a liberating ephipany that I could notice something, have something to say about it simply and directly, and write it down in a way that pleased me, slowed people down, and enhanced the meaning with its form.

I think it's the same

I think it's the same,
I think it's the same,
I think it's the same,
I think it's the same
old thing as yesterday,
but it never is.


-Jim DuBois
July 2, 2014

"Waking up"

Step 1: Light

Step 2: Air

Step 3: Cook a yam

Step 4: listen to
birds tweeting
outside my window

Step 5: Write down
these reminders of
wonder and beauty.


June 15, 2014
-Jim DuBois

Strange night peace, again

Strange night peace, again.
What is going on?
I'm crying and ___ is watching over me.


-Jim DuBois
March 21, 2012

Late night peace

Late night peace.
____ is with me,
whatever that means.


-Jim DuBois
Mar 20, 2012

Your house, without you

Your house, without you
I stopped by for some bread
The screen door clicks shut


-Jim DuBois
May 13, 2010

More Marks on Paper

Marks on paper
More marks on paper

yee-haw,
here they are

meaning,
but not
deep meaning

Every day meaning,
mundane meaning


-Jim DuBois
Dec 17, 2013

PS - this was written in pen on paper originally... now its just "light from a screen", etc.

Zen Blackout #3

-Jim DuBois
Oct 2013

Zen Blackout #2 - The Original Ancestors

-Jim DuBois
Oct, 2013

Zen Blackout #1

-Jim DuBois
October, 2013