Undercover

Under cover of
the wild birds
singing at dawn,
I can't ever be
who I used to be,
anymore.


-June 18, 2006

Doubt

Waves of doubt wash over me
as I lie next to you
trying to sleep.

Will I ever show you
this poem?


-Jim DuBois
June 25, 2006

A Certain Peace

The first time I remember
    walking down route 9
    by St. John's church
    in Northampton,

I had given up hope
    and was carrying
    a rolled up blanket
    and looking for a place
    to sleep.

I had given up hope
    of finding people
    of finding my way
    of finding a home,

but there was a certain peace
    that settled over me
    in that moment
    (maybe because
    I had stopped trying)
    and then Julian pulled up
    on the street
    (in Steve's british car
    he was borrowing without asking)
    and took me to stay
    at the Cummington Community
    for the Arts
    for a few days.

I remember wandering around
    up there,
    going into the weird little cabins
    (which I later learned were private),
    sitting in a field
    playing flute
    which echoed back nicely
    from the hills
    and imagining
    I was the long lost son
    of a woman I imagined
    lived in the little old house
    nearby.

I remember eating a lot of carrots
    and seeing Lauren's
    circular art cabin,
    with the hand-made walk,
    nestled in the edge
    of the woods.


Now it is nearly twenty years later
    and I am sitting on State street
    on the low stone wall
    by Edwards church
    and I am trying
    not to try
    and to give up hopes
    I have of other people,

and even though
    I've had insomnia recently
    and my best friend's husband
    died three months ago
    and we (including her three
    and a half year old son)
    haven't found our bearings yet,
    a certain peace
    has settled over me again
    and I am using it
    to relax,
        to remember,
            and to write.



-Jim DuBois
Nov 13, 2010

Insomniac Math

Let's see...
I couldn't fall asleep right away
so it was maybe 430 or 5
then there were those weird dreams that kept waking me up
plus those fing dogs barking in the morning
and now what the fuck was that?
I think mom or dad just came into the extra room I'm staying in
probably to get something she or he forgot
but possibly just to accidentally wake me

now it's 1146
so it adds up to probably 6 1/2 restless hours
if I was lucky
but it's more likely to equal
that I'm tired and irritated
and the day is screwed.

Sounds like my brother and nephew are here now though
and at least I'll get to eat a lot
plus I got more sleep than the 3 hours I kept fearing
so I'm probably not screwed as hard as I thought.


-Jim DuBois
Nov 25, 2010

Abstract Art Calendar

Last week I made these calendars for 2011, which feature paintings and collage I made.

Get a copy at RedBubble.

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Get a copy at RedBubble.

Birds at the Feeder

-Jim DuBois
2006ish

Epic Tag-Sale Poem *

1.

Jenny, you're away
but tag-sale season started today.
I did what I had to do:
I went without you.

I didn't get as far
as we would've with your car.
I got some books and some games
but by myself it just wasn't the same.


2.

I remember --
last summer --
driving around to tag-sales
with you
hunting for bargains
and perfect satisfaction.

Now, even though
I've almost finished
the toothpaste
and gotten rid of
the weird literary magazines,
I think our hunt
succeeded.


3.

Coming back to town
late Saturday afternoon
I saw many signs
for huge tag-sales
with great bargains.

Neither you nor I
could go to them
since we were
separately
out-of-town.


-Jim DuBois
Pt 1 - April 29, 2006,
Pt 2 & 3 - June 19, 2006

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* A Tag Sale means a Yard Sale or Garage Sale, which is where people put things they want to sell out in their yard or garage. I picked up the term "Tag Sale" from living in Western MA, and have not heard it elsewhere.