the deepest dreams

Sometimes it only lies
in the deepest dreams,
    the creosote dollars,
        the flat sand

I don't know what it means
    but I'm saying it anyway
I don't know what it means,
    but the water is running clean,
        free from the sodium pentathol
        free at last!
            from the sodium pentathol

I don't know what it means
I never know what it means
but there's a fountain in the wilderness
and they're all coming to drink
while the stones crumble away


-Jim DuBois
1997ish

Computer summary of my older poems

I was putting together a book of poetry for publication on Lulu.com, and I tried the executive summary tool, just to see what it would come up with. Here's the result, which I enjoy:


            some-times
Shirt,
Shirt,
Shirt,

shirt,
Including time

it’s time
      in time.
      if I lived


-Jim DuBois + computer
Nov 10, 2009

Outside in the Night

                        our carefully laid structures
            crumble under the pressure
of their own improbability.

Outside in the night, the trucks rumble by
            shaking the foundation,

innocent of our passion,
            oblivious to our wandering thoughts.


-Jim DuBois
'96 and today.

Short poems about an old lover

Sleeping with you
beneath purple horse and yellow sky
my heart wakes up

Walking home
thinking of ______
a bird hops by

Walking you home
in my stolen red shirt
the streets are quiet

Swinging gently in my hammock
the knot in my stomach unclenches
I think I just got over you

-Jim DuBois
c 1996

Sometimes

I put together another book of my poetry, which you can get online from a print on demand service. This is a larger collection of poems I wrote in the 1990s, and it covers a wide variety of themes, including love, spirituality, nature and space travel.

Sometimes - a collection of older poems

You

It wasn't anyone
any different than you

who started that last
revolution,

who fell in love,

who was remembered
    for thousands of years.


-Jim DuBois
2006

Fat Little Birds

Fat little birds,
  in the dirt and sand by the roadside

Fat little birds,
  in the dry leaves under the car

Fat little birds,
  my hands are cold
    as I zip up my coat


-Jim DuBois
Oct 30, 2002