Lessons

I remember
playing piano
onstage with Trevor
at Fire & Water^*.
I was reluctant because
I didn't know much
about playing piano.
People liked our song,
and afterwords
Trevor said,
"See, it didn't matter
how much you know,
you could still
entertain them."

I also remember
Attaboy^** giving me
a drawing lesson.
I brought
my pen and paper
to the cafe,
and he said,
"Ok. Now draw, man,
draw!"

Another time
I saw
some modern sculpture
and said
to my artist friend,
"I don't get it,
I coulda done that,"
and he said,
"Sure, but
the difference between
you and this guy
is that you didn't."

A few weeks ago
when I was having
an open studio
to sell my art,
Kathy told me
what her brother says
about pricing his art:
"Keep raising the price
until you get nauseaus
and then sometimes
double it."


-Jim DuBois
Feb 23, 2010

---

* Fire & Water was a cafe in Northampton, MA
** Attaboy is the name of a friend of mine who used to live in Northampton

Dear Mr. Frost - video

This poem is already on this blog, but now it has a video to go with it!
-Jim DuBois

Old Cat

Look at the
O-L-D
cat lying in the sun

Look at the
green green grass

Look at the Cat

Look at the Sun

Sun
Sun
Sun

Cat
Cat
Cat


-Jim DuBois
Nov 21, 2003

What if

What if
in our secret hearts
it mattered?


-Jim DuBois
Jan 17, 2007

Bone Memory Poet *

Bone Memory Poet
dwelling in the
blood marrow caves
telling the ancient stories
of the genetic ancestors,
the primates of days past.

These bones,
these caves,
were grown
so long ago
no one really remembers
but everyone knows
they go further back
than some find comfortable,
to rodents and bacteria,
mud and rocks,
strands of protein
from unknown shores
off the planet.

Bone memory leads us back
to the calcification
of our own skulls,
to the womb,
to the very first vertebra,
back further
to Africa
via our individual paths,
to tiny mammals,
an ice age
and the extinction
of the dinosaurs.

Speak, bone memory,
speak, bone memory,
speak!

Remind us of our
elemental nature,
of calcium and iron,
of our siblinghood
with water
and oxygen,
of our ability
to generate
electrical pulses
and create chemicals.

You've seen
all these things
and encoded them
in mysterious genetic runes
and protein alphabets.

Bone Memory Poet,
reminding us
of our foundations,
of our inner structure,
reminding us
that below
the cleverness and cognition
we are physical entities,
forces of nature.


-Jim DuBois
Jan 6, 2010

* title line from a friend of a friend

Stars, and Ice

Walking back through the front field at night,
after feeding the cats at the barn,
we used to lay down and stare up at the stars
and feel the enormousness of their distance
and what it would be like
to just keep falling
up into the sky.

Sometimes when we came back that way
in the winter,
the whole hill would be covered
with ice-encrusted snow
and we used to lay down on our bellies
and slide slowly
all the way down.


Jim DuBois
Jan 1, 2010

Looking for Something

I remember many years ago
when I was browsing
in the consignment shop
down on Pleasant street.

It was grey and snowing outside,
and inside, me, one other browser
and the guy at the register
were the only ones there.

The other browser was a skinny guy
looking for some cheap boots or something.
I wanted some cool cheap shirts, probably,
and the guy at the register kept looking boredly out the window.

Then this girl came in
and we all felt a little happier,
because we were lonely
and our only way out was through girls.

She knew the guy at the register
and they talked for a little bit
and me and the other guy had to listen
because it was otherwise quiet in there.

She said she was having a lazy day,
a relaxed, lazy, snowy day,
and she had spent the morning in bed
playing Nintendo with her boyfriend.

And to me, and undoutedly to the other lonely fellows,
it was like the god we had always wished for,
but never believed in,
had sent a divine being,
a kind of benevolent angel,
to let us know that
somewhere, someone was happy
and not lonely
and that even though such a divine entity
was always going to be out of our reach
and we'd probably have hard struggles
with our separate desperations,
we should not give up hope.


-Jim DuBois
Jan 1, 2010

Computer Summary Poem #2

When I put my whole blog through the summary function of my word processer, this what it came up with:


Shirt,
40 Short Poems

This poem
Run
Run
Run!!!


a love poem
loving
running


- Jim DuBois + Computer
Dec 20, 2009

Wandering in Other People's Memories

This broken twig,
that muddy footprint --
these show the paths they took
to become themselves.

Here is the campground of her fearful heart,
there is the happy hillside of his youth.

There is the pizza place that still serves
    hot hope for the future,
here is where she buries her forgotten days.

This is the trash heap piled high with
    unsent love letters.
that is the wasteground where time
spent waiting for things ends up,
and little yellow flowers grow.


-Jim DuBois
2004 ish

Identity

This is where you live
On this sidewalk
In this chair
Among these people
Wherever it is you actually are

This is who you are
With these thoughts
Eating this burrito
Making these minute by minute decisions
Doing exactly whatever it is you are doing

This is what you are
Temporarily animated matter
Atoms somehow made conscious
Not separated by the boundaries you think you are
Not different from other atoms
Unique but not different from the other conscious beings that surround you


-Jim DuBois
Jan 16, 2010

That Long-Dead Dog

I keep dreaming about
that
dog
that
long-dead
dog.

Rushing to attack
the post officer,
in a strange ranch house,
struggling to escape
my restraining grasp.

He is like symbol,
or a message
that I don't understand.

Nobody liked him,
but I guess
I liked him
more than I thought.


-Jim DuBois
March 10, 2004

Let Tomorrow Come

Let tomorrow come
    because I’ve polished today
    and stashed it
    in my trophy case,
    with an engraved label
    reading:
                    ‘Yes!
                              Yes!
                                        Yes!’

Let tomorrow come
    because I’ve got my ear
    to the ground
    and the energy of life
    is relaying your heartbeat
    to me from wherever it is
        you’ve gone.


-Jim DuBois
Oct 6, 2000

That Other Room

That other room
or wing
or floor
always hidden,
always new.

Reclusive,
expansive,
safe.

It shows up
in dreams
over and over
this secret inner life
of buildings
turning formerly
static places
into neverending
caverns or labyrinths.

There's an extra stairway
or bathroom,
often bathroom,
huge, steamy,
empty bathroom
with the showers
all running,
or stairway
that goes nowhere
or is too large
or too long,
or it's
an oddly shaped room
on a new floor,
sometimes in a basement
or sub-basement.

On and on
again and again
over and over
in dreams.


-Jim DuBois
Dec 24, 2009

More Evidence

More evidence that you're
not alone in the universe:
I've started leaving my change
in your change jar.


-Jim DuBois
Sept 20, 2005

Gone So Long

You've been gone so long
your Tivo has started
recommending things I like


-Jim DuBois
Sept 12, 2005

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