once more
the low sky fills
with gray tones
the trees seem
as dead spiders
and all waits
the coming storm
the last of winter
holding fast
the past week’s
glimpse of spring
caressed our spirits
so we’ll make use of
today
finding the summer
in our hearts
for it is not yet
outside the window
(D. James)
every movie
ends the same
fade to black
roll credits
people file out
of the theater
thinking about
the experience
every life
ends the same
fade to black
roll credits
people file out
of the funeral home
thinking about
the experience
what matters
are the memories
of the life lived
(D James)
a man lay in bed
last days
he knows
dying from the struggle
to live
the nurse
does what she can
to make it easier
through the morphine
induced fog
a moment of clarity
he says
“I never learned
to ride a bike”
too late now
she knows
too late now
(D James)
stuck
in a one horse town
that is the dark matter
of the mind
worrying the night
like an old string of beads
cold wind
blows darkness around
til the dawn
which
brings no warmth
or understanding
just another prelude
to another night
and on and on
until the ride stops
(D James)
long shadows
rush around
in straight lines
bundled against
the early morning sun
that gives off light
but little heat
another day
for the many lucky enough
to have made it through the night
yet who among us
thinks of the new day that way
before the first cup of coffee
if at all
(D. James)
in the moment
before dawn
the space
between notes
like slipping through the silence
holding onto that split second
of after this heartbeat ends
and the next begins
(D. James)
a state of being
closed off to other
possible outcomes
a place of right
might
fight
where trouble lurks
and there is no soul
a safe place
where one finds
simplistic comfort
only in its opposite
is there any hope
or chance of stumbling
upon the world as it is
and not as we want it to be
(D James)
rummaging around the ruins
of a failed system
with nothing left to buy
and even less to sell
worrying about the weather
and the dow jones industrial index
as if it matters to our souls
and whether they can still be saved
these fallible indicators
are not merely implausible
but are “out of time”
when false gods
ruled through commerce
and promises of a better life
the buying and selling
of currencies currency
ultimately believing in a technology
that would deliver us from evil
we can only hope
there be nothing left
after the final fall
giving us a clean slate
like a blackboard
with the remnants of the old methods
and now dead ideas
floating
as chalk dust in sunlight
then
finally
we can begin
as sentient beings
neither to be bought or sold
but simply to be
in the world
(D James)
I went
as far as the road
would take me
then continued on
I followed
the wind
as far as it did blow
then went beyond
I walked
to the peak
of the mountain
then reached up and touched the sky
I dropped
to the bottom
of the ocean
then dug down to the center of the earth
seen the sights
rode the rides
had loves
and losses
watched the line between
the beginnings and endings
blur
then bend
into a circle
and I can either
go round with it
or waste time
fighting against the flow
(D James)
we are now all
self-promoters
trillions of trilling shouts
hoping for a moment of attention
before dying out in the next roar
of the billion millions
no longer restrained
by the gatekeepers
we have run amok
in the greatest free-form
distribution experiment
known to mankind
as the vast melting pot
comes to a boil
we’ll have to wait and see
what rises to the top
(D. James)
staying up late
to watch the moon
crawl across the sky
the darkness
filled with possibilities
that the sun washes away in the morning
makes me want to hold on to this moment
embracing the night and never letting go
I don’t want
to go to sleep
tonight
but there’s no way
to hold back the sun
or stop the coming day
so for now
I’ll rest a few hours
then wrestle with the demons
in the daylight
until the sun goes down
and another moon comes up
when the possibilities arise
in the shadows of night
(D. James)
it has been too long
between here and there
and always
it seems
there is further to go
the stops
along the way
are but brief
and though I grow weary at times
the movement remains constant
if not consistent
each day does not feel new
but merely another in a string
from sunset to sunset
blurring together
until it’s time to sleep again
finally something bursts
like the sun on the horizon
a bright warm day ahead
then nothing seems like it was
and I forget my name
(D. James)
and this is not
my life,
is it?
worrying about goals
and hitting targets
making my numbers
for the month
this can’t be
why I’m here
this isn’t my life
being in debt
and fretting
over back taxes
my life
is about art
and culture
and friends
and family
and love
mostly love
my life
is for fun
and adventure
and taking big risks
my life
is to be used up
so that I don’t die
leaving behind
just debt and struggle
but something
of greater value
than that
something
much more lasting
or at least more fun
(D James)
not enough
sleep tired
too many
cigarettes tired
tired all the
time tired
two in the morning
writing
poetry tired
brain tired
road tired
time for bed tired
over-tired
wishing I didn’t
have to get up
and go to
work tired
nodding off
with my fingers
on the
keyboard tired
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
(D. James)
this thing strung together making no sense yet kept writing these words and not even thinking letting them flow and trying to keep up like in life when everything moves at the speed of sound and people keep moving and I seem to be in the way, slower than everyone else feeling tired and left behind it all seems a bit too much maybe I’m still on west coast time or it could be that I’m no longer interested in the rushing and running, the pushing and shoving, shouldering my way through life trying to get in front of the person in front of me assholes behind me kicking at the backs of my shoes, knocking them off skittering across the platform as the E train rushes out of the station and the next group of followers gathers in the station, and on to the next thing, the one after the one right before this one, how can anyone make sense of the world anymore when people start conversations in e-mail and end them in text, and no one, no one, answers the phone any longer, why can’t this rant end? because there are no endings and no beginnings, there’s just all this rushing around in the middle and when I go, and when you go, there will still be 6 billion and more on the planet to take up where we left off, and there is no reason for it, no meaning – it all is and it all isn’t and we’re here to sort out what it means to us now, and then we’re gone. And the sun will rise and the sun will set, and the sun will rise and the sun will set …
(D. James)
whispers
of things
I meant to
say
when long ago
I watched
the sun rise
now the moon
is full
and my heart
sinks
the demons
smoke cigarettes
behind the gate
waiting
in darkness
to be let out
(D. James)
don’t take this
away
it’s the last
small joy
we have
like a slender shaft
of sunlight
through the basement
window
don’t take it
away
we won’t
know what
to do then
waiting,
like refugees
under a rain-soaked
tarp
hoping,
for what was
what might be
so please
don’t take it
away
they’ll be
nothing left
to say
(D. James)
let’s run away
she’d say
find
a place
where they
can’t find us
let’s run away
someplace warm
where the sun
always shines
find
that spot
where time
stands still
let’s run away
before we’re too old
let’s run away
before this life
kills us
let’s run away
let’s run away
let’s run away
at least until
the morning comes
(D. James)
the power of night
the black and white
lithe and still
darkness falls
bringing the final
moment
nowhere to go
from here
but to the end
fast and painless
eyes open
but the light gone
out
those years
gathered up
then scattered
by the wind
a billion specks
of light and sound
swallowed
by darkness
then nothing
not even
the black
(D. James)
like bits of paper
blown by the wind
which ones will I catch
in the net of my mind
hold onto for dear life
which ones will I let fly
laughing at what nonsense
I can come up with
what if they were all
just passing
like a small spark
or bolt of lightning
electric and fleeting
shinning a momentary light
then gone
instead of being turned
into the truth
(D. James)
nothing
no thing
no nothing
no
begin
at the middle
go back
to the end
then circle round
to finish
at the beginning
once you figure
it out
let me know
I’ll be waiting
(D James)
where does it
go
the time
seems like it
used to crawl
now I lose
track
of the days
and memories
are like stories
someone once told
I’m not even
certain
I’ve not written
this poem
before
(D James)
the subway rises
from the mouth
of darkness
pulling cars across
metal track
to the top
of the mountain
the skyline
like a picture
postcard
at sunset
a symphony
at full tilt
a mass of steel
and glass
thousands
of lighted squares
and twinkling
red lights
reminds you
that this city
in its ebb and flow
was here before you arrived
and will remain long
after you are gone
(D James)
staring
out the window
watching the light change
bare trees
drag shadows
across gray
roof-tops
sunlight glints
off passing cars
the day goes on
with or without us
(D James)
the blank page
stares back at me
silently mocking
my attempts
to scribble
something
of weight
the blank page
like a snow-covered
mountain
challenges my ability
to communicate
and whisper-laughs
at my thoughts of words
until I say
to the blank page
“ok, you write something”
then there is silence
and I can finally settle down
to begin the work of stringing words
together into something that makes sense
to someone
somewhere
(D. James)
