Friday, December 24, 2010

The Enemy of Imagination

He was the enemy of imagination,
you couldn't draw him,
or even imagine what he looked like.

Whenever you would try,
you just saw images like grey fog at twilight
and a foot disappearing behind a door.

-Jim DuBois
Dec 14, 2003

Saturday, December 18, 2010


Under cover of
the wild birds
singing at dawn,
I can't ever be
who I used to be,

-June 18, 2006

Tuesday, December 14, 2010


Waves of doubt wash over me
as I lie next to you
trying to sleep.

Will I ever show you
this poem?

-Jim DuBois
June 25, 2006

Monday, December 6, 2010

A Certain Peace

The first time I remember
    walking down route 9
    by St. John's church
    in Northampton,

I had given up hope
    and was carrying
    a rolled up blanket
    and looking for a place
    to sleep.

I had given up hope
    of finding people
    of finding my way
    of finding a home,

but there was a certain peace
    that settled over me
    in that moment
    (maybe because
    I had stopped trying)
    and then Julian pulled up
    on the street
    (in Steve's british car
    he was borrowing without asking)
    and took me to stay
    at the Cummington Community
    for the Arts
    for a few days.

I remember wandering around
    up there,
    going into the weird little cabins
    (which I later learned were private),
    sitting in a field
    playing flute
    which echoed back nicely
    from the hills
    and imagining
    I was the long lost son
    of a woman I imagined
    lived in the little old house

I remember eating a lot of carrots
    and seeing Lauren's
    circular art cabin,
    with the hand-made walk,
    nestled in the edge
    of the woods.

Now it is nearly twenty years later
    and I am sitting on State street
    on the low stone wall
    by Edwards church
    and I am trying
    not to try
    and to give up hopes
    I have of other people,

and even though
    I've had insomnia recently
    and my best friend's husband
    died three months ago
    and we (including her three
    and a half year old son)
    haven't found our bearings yet,
    a certain peace
    has settled over me again
    and I am using it
    to relax,
        to remember,
            and to write.

-Jim DuBois
Nov 13, 2010