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
Monday, March 15, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
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
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
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
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
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
Saturday, February 13, 2010
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
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
Sunday, February 7, 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
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
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