I’d tell you
how I feel
But I’m not
sure I should
Not because
I don’t know
myself
or don’t have
the words
More because
I fear they’d be
misunderstood
Or worse
I’d have to be
responsible
as if I have to feel
the same way
forever
And there’s no way
of knowing
what the next day
will bring
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
rain
depression
poetry
more rain
Filed under: bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poetry, seb
Everything thickens
feels sluggish
No interest in food
or motion
Scents not
smelled before
emanate from somewhere
behind something in the kitchen
It’s as if the sun
never goes down
never goes down
never goes down
Still it’s better
than being cold
(D. James)
Filed under: art, bad poetry, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
No
matter
where
you
are
Poetry
is
always
at
the
center
of
the
horizon
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, literature, poem, poetry, writing
You tell me who
you are
in small ways
Not what you say
but when
I feel you
even after you’ve gone
The waiting hurts
like someone is
pulling something
out of my middle
by degrees
There are
three cures
You
Time
or Death
I’m still deciding
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
Their feet shake the ground
and the teeth in our skulls
Their gigantic arms
send dried leaves
whirling around us
Their laughter
booms enigmatic
like deep thunder
Who are they?
Who were they?
Nobody knows
and nobody
really cares
because the first
buds are blooming
and birds are a-singing
and the overweight champions
just become mountains
on the horizon line
very blue
very far away
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb
Why is it
fortune cookies
no longer tell your future?
Have all the mystics
gone on strike?
Now they read
“Today is a nice day.”
But that ain’t no future
And anyway
it’s raining
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
A government run
by corrupt fools
is still a government
still corrupt
and it is still
run
by
fools
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
A government ruled
by well-meaning bourgeois
is still a government
and it is still
ruled
by
bourgeois
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad poetry, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb
The waitresses
upbeat chatter
doesn’t match
her sad face
Tea is steeping
milk and sugar
patiently waiting
And I am lost
among the
knives and forks
plates of half-eaten meals
Thoughts adrift
in shafts of sunlight
spilled across the counter
Pay the check
leave a tip
and walk out
the same door
I walked in
Keep things simple
until my mind
returns
Bringing with it
what was lost
and found
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
Courage
is never
anonymous
and neither
is hate
but cowardice
ah
that’s another
story
EL SEBBO
Filed under: poem, poetry, seb, writing
Heavy with sleep
everything to do
but no time
Wait until morning
when I can think
straight again
Right now
it’s all I can do
to stay awake long
enough to write these words
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
Ten years ago
you left us
under a cloudy sky
and the cold wind
was warmer than our bones
Well, today
the sky is pretty much
the same
except for the clouds
which are a little bit
whiter
but I guess
that’s just a trick
my memory
is playing on me
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, birthday poems, seb
Life moves in one direction
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
The world changes
and we change in it
Divergent paths
verge
Veer off
into other lives
Meet again
in some other form
Do we recognize
this place
as if sprung
from nowhere?
Are we known
here anymore?
Or has everything
simply moved on?
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
What I remember
are images
The words are gone
and live a life of their own
They never call me nor write
but the images
are still with me
and sometimes
I do wish
they would pay rent
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, writing
I looked in the place
I’ve looked before
where I thought
for sure I’d left it
But it was empty
I checked again
to make certain
and found nothing
I could swear
there was a poem
in my head
one I’d thought
about all day
But the cupboard is bare
Whatever happened
to those words?
I guess I’ll never know
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
Caught at the dusty crossroads
of violence and justice – never
quite a man nor a boy
a question simply lingers:
quiƩn es?
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad poetry, seb
Can you feel it
because I can’t
For too long
I tried to suppress
all this anger
all this pain
Now all I know
is this aching
numbness
Wildly searching
for an answer
when all the while
it’s been right here
Inside my head
inside of me
It doesn’t matter
It means nothing
It solves nothing
nothing at all
(D. James)
Filed under: art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing
A good …… is a dead …..
EL SEBBO
Filed under: bad poetry, birthday poems, poem, poetry, seb, writing