Wandering in the remnants of time
the rotting tree trunks
the glacier-strewn rocks
Lost in the aftermath of the past
the decomposing leaves
the cracked basalt boulders
Even the new trees
root
in the bones
of their ancestors
-Jim
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Stealing into your Heart (feb 28, 2005)
I wrote poems about love and longing,
I pined,
I schemed about ways to meet you,
planned what I would say
and how I might approach you.
It's all come to nothing so far.
Here's my latest plan:
You won't know me when I'm near,
because I will not notice you,
my eyes will glance over you to someone beyond,
I'll turn away,
look down,
keep walking,
but late at night
I'll return to my secret task:
digging a convoluted tunnel
to your heart,
bit by bit,
with a bent and rusty spoon
I stole from the cafe.
Any day now I'm sure to break through,
and stealthily enter
the chambers of your heart -
on tip-toe,
in socks,
breathing shallowly
and moving slowly.
I don't want to disturb anything,
I just want to see what it's like
to be in there.
Maybe I'd pause for a bit
and watch how you secretly
love the world
when you think no one else is around.
I might take a nap, too,
before I headed out,
because it would be so warm and comfortable.
The only things I'd leave behind
are a few tender kisses
in spots that wouldn't bother you
or disrupt your days,
a soft string guideline
to make finding my way back easier,
and a note
that said
"Somebody loves you"
-Jim
I pined,
I schemed about ways to meet you,
planned what I would say
and how I might approach you.
It's all come to nothing so far.
Here's my latest plan:
You won't know me when I'm near,
because I will not notice you,
my eyes will glance over you to someone beyond,
I'll turn away,
look down,
keep walking,
but late at night
I'll return to my secret task:
digging a convoluted tunnel
to your heart,
bit by bit,
with a bent and rusty spoon
I stole from the cafe.
Any day now I'm sure to break through,
and stealthily enter
the chambers of your heart -
on tip-toe,
in socks,
breathing shallowly
and moving slowly.
I don't want to disturb anything,
I just want to see what it's like
to be in there.
Maybe I'd pause for a bit
and watch how you secretly
love the world
when you think no one else is around.
I might take a nap, too,
before I headed out,
because it would be so warm and comfortable.
The only things I'd leave behind
are a few tender kisses
in spots that wouldn't bother you
or disrupt your days,
a soft string guideline
to make finding my way back easier,
and a note
that said
"Somebody loves you"
-Jim
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
More Hobbies of an Unemployed Poet (May 21, 2005)
I guess I'm
collecting feathers
again
And aimless moments.
Wandering in the lost places
again
like the hillside below the abandoned state hospital
and the broad empty lawns of Amherst College.
-Jim
collecting feathers
again
And aimless moments.
Wandering in the lost places
again
like the hillside below the abandoned state hospital
and the broad empty lawns of Amherst College.
-Jim
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Unknown and Unfinished (July 31, 2001)
I was lost.
Unknown and unfinished,
I sat in the parking lot
while the rain threatened to fall
and finally did.
-Jim
Unknown and unfinished,
I sat in the parking lot
while the rain threatened to fall
and finally did.
-Jim
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Brief Encounters (Sept 5, 2000)
I saw the fading slogans
of ever lasting love
decorating the rusty railroad bridge
in dare-devil
spots.
I wondered about
the people who wrote them,
10, 15, 20 years ago.
I wondered
if they still
remembered.
I thought of you
and I wondered if
our brief encounters
were like those slogans,
thrown up in a momentary abandon,
left like relics
for future lovers to find
and wonder over.
-Jim DuBois
of ever lasting love
decorating the rusty railroad bridge
in dare-devil
spots.
I wondered about
the people who wrote them,
10, 15, 20 years ago.
I wondered
if they still
remembered.
I thought of you
and I wondered if
our brief encounters
were like those slogans,
thrown up in a momentary abandon,
left like relics
for future lovers to find
and wonder over.
-Jim DuBois
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Universal Echoes of an Ancient Truth (July 1, 2006)
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
filtering down
through the technological canopy
of today
distorted
by cellphone towers
and cheap plastic goods
corrupted
by escalating vices
and polluted waterways
forgotten
beneath a mountain
of pop-up windows
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
seen here and there
in thrift shops
and the crazy buttery eyes
of select strangers
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
whispering between the words
of religious propaganda
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
-Jim DuBois
of an ancient truth
filtering down
through the technological canopy
of today
distorted
by cellphone towers
and cheap plastic goods
corrupted
by escalating vices
and polluted waterways
forgotten
beneath a mountain
of pop-up windows
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
seen here and there
in thrift shops
and the crazy buttery eyes
of select strangers
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
whispering between the words
of religious propaganda
Universal echoes
of an ancient truth
-Jim DuBois
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