Thursday, December 19, 2013

More Marks on Paper

Marks on paper
More marks on paper

here they are

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.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

For Gabriel García Márquez, upon learning he has Alzheimer's

This is a pen,
you use it
to write words
and tell stories

This is paper,
upon which you write
those stories

This is a novel,
you read it
to gain insight
into the magical loneliness
of existence

This is a poem,
you read it
every day
to understand
that someone
your creations,
and to remind yourself
of your great contributions
to literature

-Jim DuBois
Dec 11, 2013

Gabriel García Márquez has Alzheimer's - the Guardian

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Intellectual in a tea house in Northampton

Intellectual in a tea house
in Northampton,
reading Langston Hughes
and Diane Wakoski
paying too much
for tea
and a seat in the window
so all the holiday shoppers
can see how cool I am

-Jim DuBois
Nov 23, 2013

Friday, November 29, 2013

Is Your Shadow Part of You?

Is your shadow part of you?
Is a scar part of you?
Is your hair part of you?

Is the air in your lungs part of you?
Is the water in your bowels part of you?
Is the living blood carried away by a mosquito part of you?

Are the photons emitted and absorbed by your skin part of you?
Are mitochondria part of you?
Are the bacterial colonies which inhabit your body part of you?

Is your child part of you?
Is your family part of you?

Are your memories part of you?
Are thoughts part of you?

Is the way you move part of you?
Is the sound of your voice part of you?

Are your fingernails part of you?

Is yesterday part of you?
Is what you might do part of you?

-Jim DuBois
Nov 4, 2013

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Done Anything Good

I don't know
if you've ever
done anything good,
but I have,
or so they tell me.
It always seems
that my memories
of doing good
fade so quickly.
I can't quite
grasp them.
I probably can't quite
understand who I
actually am.
My self image
is out of line
with reality,
but I've decided
to go on this quest
for the truth
about myself,
to try and remember
the good things,
to commemorate
and celebrate
the things I've done
and if one of those
fleeting memories
comes back
for a moment,
I must grasp on,
and write it down,
to get a better picture
of what my life
has really been.

-Jim DuBois
Sep 12, 2013

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

The Other Side of Familiar Things

I took
  a path

I knew
  by heart,

but it
  was overgrown

and I got lost

- just enough
to come out
20 feet
from the
old trail entrance

and there
a beautiful old
stone wall
with a drain
through it,
a lost bit
of the old
state hospital
which I
had walked by
for years
and never known.

-Jim DuBois
Sep 25, 2013

Thursday, October 24, 2013


A great place to sit
and watch
a lot of people
going nowhere.

-Jim DuBois

Friday, October 18, 2013

You are a Spider

You are a spider
You are capturing
moments of love
Your web breaks easily
Luckily, you were made
to build webs well

-Jim DuBois

Thursday, September 12, 2013

just over 3 years since you died

The other day,
we were
up at the lake house,
putting things away
for the season,
packing up
the odds and ends,
reviewing memories,
winding down.

It's been
just over 3 years
since you died
and I
have a few more things
to tell about,
to record and remember,
to help me
wrap things up.

I remember seeing you,
orange skinned
from liver failure,
entering the front door,
a slightly fatigued look
on your face,
and at that moment,
I had no idea
it would be
the last time
I saw you,
or that a few months
I'd move into the basement
of that house
for three weeks
to be close
to your son
and widow.

I made a lot
of phone calls,
did a lot of coordinating
support for your wife,
and listened
and listened,
and cried
and cried
and cried.

I arranged visits,
I kept some people
at bay,
I got people to
come up and play,
in the midst of it all,
play with me and Josh.

I found out how far
I could go,
how much I could take,
what I could do.

I went over that line
a few times
and I want to
tell about them
because it's good
to know about
your limits
and mostly people
only hear that in
a vague way
and mostly people
haven't been
out there themselves.

The first time,
I offered
to make some
phone calls
to family and friends
who might want to
say something
at the funeral,
and these were
probably the hardest
conversations I have
ever had.
I got off the phone
and burst into tears.

The next time
I remember,
a call came in
from a friend
of your wife's
and I took it.
More bad news:
the friend's husband
had died, only a few days
after you.
I had to take
your widow out to the porch
and give her that news,
and it broke my spirit
for a little bit
and I rushed out
and kayaked hard
for a while.

I told my dad,
who I never tell anything,
that that fall
was the most unhappy
time of my entire life.

I also tell people
that it was good
to find out
that I could put
my values
into action
and wasn't just talking
about integrity and courage.

Ever since those hard times
I've known myself
much more clearly.

-Jim DuBois
Sept 4, 2013

Friday, September 6, 2013

Sometimes, Temporarily

Sometimes, temporarily,
instead of
always or never


sometimes, temporarily

-Jim DuBois
Aug 19, 2013

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Me at 43

Riding my bike
in the Meadows
near my home,
on the floodplain
of the Connecticut river
on a summer afternoon,

"I guess
I haven't
squeezed all the juice
out of life yet!"

-Jim DuBois
Aug 15, 2013

Thursday, August 15, 2013

There was that time

There was that time
we decided
to camp
up on Bare mountain,
to sneak off the path
and set up camp,

But we didn't know
how to make
a good fire,
so the smoke
kept stinging
our eyes
all night long,

But we weren't sleeping
because the sound
of the chipmunks
scurrying around
scared us,
as did the thought
of bears.

I tried counting
backwards from 500
to get to sleep,
but kept forgetting
what number I was on
and it didn't work.

We maybe slept an hour
that night
and when I got up,
you were not around
so I went looking
up the trail
and there you were.

We had forgotten
to bring water
but we walked about
3 hours anyway,
drank at the park,
And walked 3 hours back.

All along
our hike,
we kept seeing
all these
different frogs.
They kept
magically appearing,
in the trail,
in the swamps and trees.

Then we settled down
for another horrible night,
But after an hour,
we had the good sense
to give up,
pack up in the dark
and hike down
the mountainside
in the pitch black night.

We slept so well
at my apartment
and were happier,
but I still miss
those magic frogs.

-Jim DuBois
August 14, 2013

Friday, August 9, 2013

At a Loss

47 degrees,
I guess I'll go appease
my restlessness

I'll go get some floss
since I'm at a loss
for what to do

-Jim DuBois
April 6, 2013

Friday, August 2, 2013

The Night

The night
is warm again

The world
looks inviting

This is probably
about me

Welcome home!

-Jim DuBois
April 12, 2013

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Living only on Wednesday

Living only on Wednesday,
living only on this bench
outside the library
below the grey clouds

-Jim DuBois
May 22, 2013

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Going Well

The day is going well...

...arghh! It's my worst nightmare.

-Jim DuBois
May 9,  2012

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Riding My Bike Back From the Mall

you knew this
was coming,

I got a bike,
I write about
    everyday things,
and voila!

I know
it's not deep,
or obscure academic

It's comprehendable,
not dada-esque --
revered dada-esque.

It's not even
Charles Bukowski
drunk pathetic

No metaphors,
no rhymes,
no special names of plants
or other things
no one really knows.

O Robert Frost,
this is not
your poetry!

I'm not counting
my syllables,
dear Haiku!

I'm not
going to a "slam"
to recite this
while I bob
back and forth
and angrily
try to make it
more than it is.

Instead, I'm telling
a simple story:

I rode my bike
  back from the mall
  and I was happy.

-Jim DuBois
June 19, 2013

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Love Note

Your heart
      was made
                to love me

Don't deny it
      the chance

-Jim DuBois
Jan 23, 2013

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Love and Lust

We could go on
love and lust.

We, all of humanity,
could go on
like that,

but let's start
a new era

-Jim DuBois
April 15, 2013

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Sometimes - eBook

I have a new poetry book in eBook format, available on the iTunes Bookstore for $2.99.

It is a collection of early poems by me, featuring themes of love, loneliness, space travel and spirituality.

Many of the poems have not appeared on this blog.

Get a copy.

Or view my all my books, eBook and print, as well.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Grandfather Turtle, and Snake Hunting Near Gregor's Crossing

"Thank you,"
I say
as the first snake
of the season
slithers into view
ahead of me
on the dirt path.

I slow down.

I take its picture.

I start to think
about all the animals
I have seen
down here
near Gregor's Crossing,
the snakes,
and beavers.

And one time,
when the evening light
was slanting
in just the right
way to illuminate
the streambed
clearly to me
on the bank,
I saw this
giant 3-foot long
swimming along placidly.
So I followed along,
tried to get pictures
but none came out,
wondered where he came
thought about age
and survival.

There were many people
nearby that day,
enjoying the day,
but none of them
noticed the turtle,
and he seemed
to sense
when they were
in the water,
and turn back.

Old Grandfather Turtle,
I thought,
swimming near
Gregor's Crossing,
appearing only
when the light
and time are right,
appearing only to those
who can notice,
who can be silent
or still for
the right amount
of time.
Not noticeable
by the hectic modern
world of humans,
but still swimming
below the surface,
holding to the old ways,
the peaceful
and silent ways,
the enduring ways.

-Jim DuBois
April 18, 2013

PS - Two days before I put up this poem, I went for a walk, saying to myself, "I will notice the present moment this whole walk." And then I saw the turtle again! I got a few pictures.

Monday, May 13, 2013

I write these things down

I write
these things down,
because someone
should do it,
and I decided
it would be me.

I don't think
it needs to be
too clever,
or too dramatic.

It mainly
just needs doing.

-Jim DuBois
March 31, 2013

Sunday, May 5, 2013

I'm Saving Your Heart

playing on the couch
one day,
his head
in my lap,
reached up
and touched
my cheek.
"I'm saving your heart,"
he said.
I know,
I thought,
you really are.

-Jim DuBois
March 31, 2013

Monday, April 29, 2013

Looking for Something to do

Looking for something
to do
on Saturday afternoon

- a beautiful sunny
spring afternoon.

All this town,
filled with nothingness
once you stop consuming.

Empty, pointless
spring afternoon.

The real story?
or the thawing numbness
of winter?

-Jim DuBois
March 29, 2013

Friday, March 22, 2013

Hope and Dread



as I walk down the sidewalk
I last saw you on.

II –

I don’t know how to say it
and I don’t know how to not say it:
to believe it or deny it:

“Yes, ______”
“Yes, ______”
“Yes, ______”

-Jim DuBois

Saturday, March 16, 2013

First Walk Back

First walk back
  from Florence,

March, spring

fragments, regrowth

-Jim DuBois
March 10, 2013

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

What My Daughter Will Learn From D&D

I dreamed
that someone
interviewed me
what my daughter
would learn from
playing D&D.

I told him
I didn't have
a daughter,
but I would

"Well, to start with,
D&D was a product
of its times. It was
a cooperative game.
It couldn't be made

When you are playing,
and solving problems
in the game,
you get to feel
and when you fail
a savings throw for
climbing an ice wall,
hopefully you will feel
brave but unlucky.

In the end,
you get to find out
who you really are,
or want to be.

-Jim DuBois
Feb 10, 2013

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Saturday Afternoon Ennui in America

lounging around,
looking for something to do,
wondering about meaning and existence

passed through town earlier,
disconnected but relaxed,
writing poetry now,
because, well, at least
I can,
I can create
and record
and re-order

-Jim DuBois
Jan 19, 2013

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Like it Should be

Crunch, crunch, crunch,
the snow is crunchy,
like it should be in winter.

-Jim DuBois
Jan 18, 2013

Friday, February 8, 2013

People Who Are Beautiful

People who are beautiful
People who are beautiful until the hair moves away from their eyes
People who are beautiful until you see their faces
People who are trying hard to be beautiful
People who are holding onto being beautiful
People who used to be beautiful

-Jim DuBois
Dec 11, 2012

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Freight Train

Freight train

creaking by,
rumbling by


makes me feel like
I've gone back in time.

-Jim DuBois
Jan 17, 2013

Sunday, January 27, 2013

I Can't Tell

I can't tell
if I'm depressed, or relaxed,
or on the verge of
an existential awakening,

but the sun and hats
are enjoyable
in the winter wind,

and the dry weeds
are rustling
beside the fence.

-Jim DuBois
Jan 19, 2013

Monday, January 21, 2013


I was so wrapped up
in taking care of you,
in protecting you
from real
and dramatized threats,
that now that you're
not around,
everytime I see
a firetruck,
hear about a car crash,
I worry and wonder
about what's happening
to you.
If I get a call
from an unknown number
I think
it must be you,
calling for me
to come get you
from some
or terrible relationship.

-Jim DuBois
July 15, 2012

Tuesday, January 15, 2013


Until the first stars
there were no
heavier elements
in the universe.

Then billions of years later,
our relationship
went supernova
and I'm watching
more complex
and interesting things
as I cool down.

-Jim DuBois
July 14, 2012