Some nights
are darker
than others
not in moonlight
but in mood
The narrow stares
of strangers
too many loud
angry sounds
The usual
evening birds
are absent
My blood
goes up
as I wait
for a fight
that never comes
A lone cricket
chirps into the darkness
breaking the tension
reminding me
that life
is good
Even if
my mood
isn’t
(D. James)
After being shot at all day
having fought hideous monsters
and saved his parents
from numerous dangers
the tiny hero
falls asleep
clutching his teddy-bear
EL SEBBO
The world
disappears
Everything goes
black
and silent
This lasts
six or seven
hours
Then my eyes
open and the world
is remade
in an instant
(D. James)
sun in my eyes
my words are empty
your shadow moves on my retina
like a love letter
another day breaks
hope emerges
and I feel like
a cigarette
and a glass of rum
doodledy-dum
time to run
and have some fun
EL SEBBO
The last hour
of summer sunlight
golden and clean
makes everyone
beautiful
Filtered through haze
softer
than the light
at noon
Similar to the dawn
but more powerful
for its proximity
and promise
of nightfall
Feel the final hour
of the day
and hope
for many more
(D. James)
a mockingbird hops by
yellow beak and black head
my thoughts stop for a moment
EL SEBBO
the yellow sign says
do not enter when flooded
why would you do that
(D. James)
The sky is mystery
and the sea is a lie
Feelings are inaccurate
and ink is artificial
Yet blue is blue
no matter what
EL SEBBO
In the evening
the Red Rocks
turn to Black
A white half-moon
is held in
deep blue sky
As the town
goes quiet
(D. James)
The heart is pink
lips are blue
revolutions are lost
red is a liar
EL SEBBO
Some days
it feels like
fighting a fierce wind
You just have
to lean into it
and move a little
slower
(D. James)
White is the easiest metaphor
EL SEBBO
If writing poetry
is like pissing against the wind
remember that the wind
often changes direction
EL SEBBO
At the end
of the day
when there is
nothing more
to be done
except crawl into bed
give over to sleep
I still fight
with myself
to finish one more thing
before I admit
defeat
(D. James)
A beautiful car
is nothing
compared to
a good conversation
EL SEBBO
drifting through the days
like something at sea
big ideas
little motivation
life has become
a dull hum
with flourishes
of brilliant color
(D. James)
if my words were colored
like heads and then hands
then sometimes they could be
red machine or red lips
but mostly red silence
EL SEBBO
