Waking up at 3:21 am on Valentine's Day

Waking up at 3:21 am
on Valentine's Day...
"Do you hear that beeping?"
and it was
the smoke detector downstairs
chirping out its
low battery alarm,
so we took out
its battery
and I was making jokes
about my bitterness,
about missing sleep,
which made you laugh
and when we got back in bed
you kept giggling
and accidentally bumping me
with the hot water bottle
and making me twitch a little
while we were trying to sleep
and I was like,
"Oh, so my misfortune
and bitterness is funny
to you?"
which made you laugh even more
and then the loud heater
came on
and it seemed more and more
like we'd lose the battle for sleep,
like a sitcom
where everything keeps going wrong
and it's funny from the outside,
so I said,
"Happy Valentine's Day!"
and we laughed.

I wanted to end this poem
with something like
"And there was no one else
I'd rather have been with,
or hear giggling about my bitterness
in the middle of the night,"
because that is really true,
even though those words
are a little cliche
and I thought about
other ways to say it
or imply it
but nothing better
occurred to me,
so I decided
that maybe the best way
sometimes
is just to ramble on
and say I love you a lot,
and be a little cliche
anyway,
be a little imperfect,
a little flawed,
just like
that night
which was so wonderful
anyway.


-Jim DuBois
Feb 16, 2016

Everything I did while you were under for surgery

I really
couldn't bear the thought
of you missing out
on even a little half hour
of life,
so I decided
to record
everything I did
while you were under,
as a present for you.

First I mailed out Magic cards
with Dimitri,
then we went to
Veracruzana
to get bean burritos.
I wasn't too hungry
but it was cold
and eating is such a delight
I wanted to include it.

Then I got the idea
for this poem
and snagged a pen and napkin
from the counter
and started writing.

...

Took a break
to eat one of those
delicious chocolate coconut bars
from the Roost
just to indulge.

And in between
and through all these things
I have been loving you,
holding you in my heart,
thinking of you,
waiting for you to return,
eager to see you later today.

Now we're headed out
to get more cards
and play some Magic,
and you should
be waking up
now too.


-Jim DuBois
Feb 12, 2016 1:17pm

Specific Memories of Particular Food

Usually, you can't pinpoint
the time you ate
the best version
of any particular food,
especially everyday food,
so those times
when I can
stick out in my mind.

The first time was
a basket of french fries
I had at Holy Smokes
(now defunct) BBQ
in Hatfield MA.
They were so great that
when the cook
came around
to ask how everything was,
I said they were
the best fries
I'd ever had,
and asked how come.
He said that they
double-fry them,
but it also depends on
the moisture content
of the potatoes
and that depends on
things like the weather
while they were growing,
so they can't control that.

The other time
I was a fruititarian,
so I ate a lot of kinds of fruit
just for variety
in such a restricted diet.
I decided to give
golden delicious apples
another chance
one day at Atkins
(fruit stand - not defunct).
I bought one
and it was amazing,
and for a few days,
all the golden delicious apples
from there were
actually delicious
and then that faded,
for a still undetermined reason,
and I have not
truly enjoyed an apple
of that variety since.


-Jim DuBois
Dec 19, 2015

Even on that piano

Even
on that piano
that
out of tune
piano
that
piano with bad
action,
Even
though you haven't
practiced
lately


-Jim DuBois

something essential

I don't know
if I've got this story
exactly right,
because it didn't happen
to me,
and I heard it
many years ago,
but I am sure
I retained
the essence of it.

My friend Juan,
who I think
was descended from
old Mayan kings,
had disappeared
from society for a while,
by hiding out
down below
those iconic cliffs,
on that beach
in California,
where he met this
Vietnam vet
who lived in a cave
and hunted fish
with a spear launcher
made with an old
bicycle inner tube.

Above them,
atop the cliff,
there was
a Buddhist monastery,
and Juan used to climb up
and pick fruit
from their garden
while they sat there
meditating
among the plants,
and they never
moved or said anything.

And for me,
that image captures
something essential
and beautiful
about life
that is hard to define.


-Jim DuBois
September 2015

Straightforward Titles for Recurring Dreams

Last Day at Camp
Crowded Apartment
Leaving the Party
Down a Long River
Strange Place to Sleep
Dream Roads
Empty Department Store that is Sometimes a Grocery Store
Flying out the Window
Those Extra Rooms I Never Knew Were There
What's Wrong with the Bathroom?
Giant Bathroom with the Running Showers


-Jim DuBois
Dec 26, 2015

And Never Let

I know that we
worry needlessly
about disasters
and about one
or the other
of us dying,
but I decided
just after I woke up
that if you died
unexpectedly,
I would love you
anyway,
keep writing you
poems,
talk out loud
to you,
think about you
all the time
and never let
death win


-Jim DuBois
Jan 3, 2016

Revisions

Peace and longing

Peace and longing,
one in each hand.
How can this be?


-Jim DuBois
March 6, 2012

the same world

Brilliant clarity
in the sunlight,
sinking feeling
in my heart,
how are they
in the same world?


-Jim DuBois
March 6, 2012

The time I really wish I could fly

The time

I really wish

I could fly

is at the end

of these short

Fall days

when the last

bits of sunshine

are slowly climbing

the library walls, 

coloring the

tops of trees

and lighting up

the clouds like a painting. 

- Jim DuBois

Nov 13, 2015

The Secret Lives of Normal People

Daniel and the Spaghetti

Daniel and I
were so hungry -
him because the dining hall
    was closed already
and me because
    I was homeless
    and always hungry, -
so we cooked some spaghetti
    in the dorm lounge
But didn't have a drainer
    so tilted the pot
over the sink of dirty dishes
and yes, it fell in,
so we cooked another batch
    bu that fell in too,
    right in the backed-up sink
But we were so hungry
    we fished it out
    and ate it anyway,
even though
we didn't mean to.


-Jim DuBois
Sep 7, 2015

Preconception

I said, "I like you."
You said, "That means you don't love me."

I said, "I love you."
You said, "You're just saying that
    because of what I said."

I said, "No, no! It's true: I love you."
You said, "You don't look at me
    the right way when you say it."

I said, "I'm not sure what to do."
You said, "I knew you didn't love me."


-Jim DuBois
March 5, 2010

Why Everything Takes Too Long and No One Can Actually Know History, or Anything Else, Probably

I left Cafe Evolution
to get back on my bike
and head home,
but I noticed
that my bag of groceries
was missing,
so I looked around,
asked if anyone had seen it,
nope, oh well,
and I was in
a bad mood already,

so I ride home thinking,

"What kind of asshole
steals a loaf of bread
and a bottle of vitamins
out of a crappy looking bike?"

and trying to be reasonable:

"I guess they probably
needed it badly,"

but veering away from that
to thinking about how
I would have caused
them harm if I
caught them in the act,
then veering away
from THAT
to thinking
that maybe somehow
I deserved to have
it stolen from me
because my white people
took land from the Indians,
and then fantasizing about
posting about the theft on FB
to get some sympathy
but thinking
that's probably
too self indulgent and lame
and then fantasizing
about what I will say
to the host of the party
I was going to bring
the bread to,
like,

"Somebody stole it
from my bike!
I was too discouraged
and sad and broke
to go buy another one,
so I didn't bring anything.
I hope that's ok,"

but thinking that's
probably lame too,
but maybe not,
if said relaxedly.

Alright, well,
I get home
and check FB
and they had found the bag
under a car at the cafe!

So I biked back
to get it
and I'm thinking again
the whole way,
like,

"How did it get under there?
Maybe some asshole
was hiding it to get later."

or maybe someone
was being "kind"
by taking my bread
out of the sun,
which sounds
absurd now,
but was convincing then,
who knows why.

Then it clicked in my brain...

the bike basket had been
tilted oddly to one side...

the bike must have fallen over,
the bag fell out,
rolled under the car,
and someone
righted the bike after...

but of course
I started imagining
that maybe they
were pissed off
about not having
enough room
on the bike rack,
so they probably
roughly shoved my bike
around on purpose.

"What kind of
fucking asshole
does that???"

Then I guess I calmed down,
because I got my stuff back,
and I decided
to try and record
all the details

(and of course
I left out tons,
forgot so much, etc)

of this one incident,
one afternoon,
one man
and his thoughts,
his misinterpretations
and imaginings
about something so trivial,
in order to show
why everything takes too long
and no one can actually
know history,
or anything else,
probably.


-Jim DuBois
September 4, 2015

I Remember Richard

He used to say,
"I'm the only
Jewish Indian!"

Born in Brooklyn,
he'd gone and lived
at Pine Ridge reservation
back in the '60s or '70s
and gotten to be
one of the tribe
somehow.

I met him at
Fire & Water,
and we would talk
about things I mostly
don't remember now,
except that he had
spiritual things to say
about ordering pie,
like,

"We pay not for goods
and services,
but out of kindness towards
the people who worked
at making it,"

and,

"Since we are only
here for a short time,
it's important
to enjoy things like pie."

He was also the one
who told me to read
Lame Deer, seeker of visions,
because I think he knew
Lame Deer personally,
and that book's the reason
I say hello to squirrels
out loud now.

Richard was one of those friends
you'd see randomly
at the cafe,
so its hard to say
when the last time
I saw him was,
but its been a while now
since Fire & Water
even existed
and he was old back then,
so who knows
where he's gone to now,
and I'm not sure why
he came to mind
all these years later,
but here is
my message for him
wherever he is:

"Shalom aleichem,
Toksa ake waunkte."


-Jim DuBois
Aug 30, 2015

words on a page

This Sad/Beautiful World

This
      sad/beautiful
                  world

where
      everything/nothing
                  matters

and we live forever
      and only a day.


-Jim DuBois
July 30, 2015

Giving Up the Search

If we could give up
our search for perfection,
"the one",
that perfect place,
that perfect time,
that perfect person,
and accept the good
in what comes our way
or create good
in the here and now
when we need to,

we could embrace
more fully
these wonderful days and lives
we've been given,

but to accept now,
to accept that
there are no perfect people,
not even any perfect lives
or perfect moments,
is to lift up
your broken heart,
your old wounds,
those ancient fears and frustrations,
those delusions you labor under,
and say,
"This happened.
I can't fix it.
I can't change the past.
I didn't like it.
The world is not perfect.
Bad things happen in it.
There is suffering,
and pain,"

and that's harder than it seems,
but you can pause a moment,
and add,

"but there is goodness.
I have seen it.
I have done it.
I have been it."


-Jim DuBois
July 28, 2015

Writing by Hand

Writing by hand
at The Roost,
I counted twelve laptops,
and noted it down
with this everyday pen
and cheap notebook.

Writing by hand
is fun.
I enjoy it more than
typing on a computer.
I like sometimes
misspelling a word
and not having
an instant correction.
It takes some of
the professionalism
out of art
and life.

I'm not against technology either.
I will probably type this up
for publication on my blog.

I like using computers,
and tablets,
and the internet.
I've made some things
I couldn't have made
any other way.

Actually,
pens and writing
are also technologies,
just much older.

Mostly what I am saying
is that different tools
can do different things,
that there is a use and a feeling
you might get out of
whatever you have at hand to
make stuff with.

But it is funny,
something about all the
expensive laptops,
vs my cheap pen and paper.

Probably pens
were an amazing
cutting edge thing
at one point,
but now you can get a dozen
for a dollar
at a surplus store.

I don't think their creative
usefulness has diminished though.
We've just become used to them.


-Jim DuBois
Feb 18, 2012