sun goes down moon comes up
I hold one in each hand
EL SEBBO
Posted by sdoubinsky on 13 May 2008
sun goes down moon comes up
I hold one in each hand
EL SEBBO
Posted in art, bad haiku, bad poetry, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, seb | No Comments »
Posted by D. James on 12 May 2008
Los Angeles is pointless
under clouds
and cool temperatures
The palm trees
and imported cars
need the glint
to show their worth
It’s harder to defend
this almost-city
when the weather
plays the hostile witness
(D. James)
Posted in art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing | Tagged: cars, clouds, LA, palm trees, sun, weather | No Comments »
Posted by D. James on 8 May 2008
How far down
do you go
before you find
the bottom of your soul?
How deep is it,
how wide?
And why is there no light down here?
(D. James)
Posted in art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing | Tagged: darkness, depth, light, soul | 2 Comments »
Posted by sdoubinsky on 7 May 2008
I am writing a poem in my garden
the sun at the periphery of my thoughts
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 6 May 2008
They talk
and talk
then talk
some more
Saying the most
benign things
about the weather
or what someone else
has already said
I look for silence
But still they talk
and talk
without really saying
anything
In the end
I wonder …
do these words
really get us anywhere?
(D. James)
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Posted by D. James on 2 May 2008
I want to live
in a god-less
world
A place where
common-sense
and logic
triumph over
greed
insecurity
fear
and hate
A world that
puts humans
above corporations
where government
works in the interests
of the people,
all the people,
instead of against them
I want to live
in a world
where the truth
is a good thing
where knowledge
outweighs ignorance
Because frankly
I’m tired of hearing
these fantasies rooted
in gross unrealities
of heaven and hell
And I don’t think
it’s possible to move
to a better world
without forsaking
these fallacies of
nationalism
patriotism
and worst of all
religion
You can attack
me all you want
but the truth
will bear out
(D. James)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 1 May 2008
When things fall
objects happen
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 30 April 2008
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)
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Posted by D. James on 28 April 2008
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)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 25 April 2008
No
matter
where
you
are
Poetry
is
always
at
the
center
of
the
horizon
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 24 April 2008
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)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 23 April 2008
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
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Posted by D. James on 22 April 2008
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)
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Posted by D. James on 18 April 2008
A government run
by corrupt fools
is still a government
still corrupt
and it is still
run
by
fools
(D. James)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 17 April 2008
A government ruled
by well-meaning bourgeois
is still a government
and it is still
ruled
by
bourgeois
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 16 April 2008
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)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 15 April 2008
Courage
is never
anonymous
and neither
is hate
but cowardice
ah
that’s another
story
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 14 April 2008
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)
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Posted by D. James on 10 April 2008
Life moves in one direction
(D. James)
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Posted by D. James on 8 April 2008
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)
Posted in art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing | 1 Comment »
Posted by sdoubinsky on 7 April 2008
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
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Posted by D. James on 4 April 2008
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)
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Posted by D. James on 2 April 2008
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)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 1 April 2008
A good …… is a dead …..
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 31 March 2008
An hour before dawn
and blind birds sing
goodbye to the bitter
dregs of night
Chattering away
as if they had
something to say
But it doesn’t
bring the day
any sooner
(D. James)
Posted in art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing | Tagged: birds, night | No Comments »
Posted by D. James on 27 March 2008
In the good
old days
when we were drunk
the world
moved slower
as if underwater
Now time
lurches forward
can’t seem to stop
the flood of years
rushing past
Let’s get drunk
one more time
drown ourselves
in memories of
days gone by
(D. James)
Posted in art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing | Tagged: drunk, memories, past, water | 1 Comment »
Posted by D. James on 25 March 2008
No one knew
the damage
being done
How could we
it was all
so long ago
when we were
young
Someone
should have
stopped it
Someone
should have seen
what it would do
to all of us
Now we have
to deal with it
on our own
Break the cycle
end this chain
of anger
and pain
(D. James)
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Posted by sdoubinsky on 24 March 2008
White roofs
blue sky
the children play
in the bedroom
my fingers
silently
write this poem:
“it is cold outside
it is colder
inside my mouth”
EL SEBBO
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Posted by D. James on 21 March 2008
Back on track
like a train
at speed
Where it goes
we’ll have to
wait and see
Enjoy the ride
and hope the end
is nowhere in sight
(D. James)
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Posted by D. James on 19 March 2008
Yellow moon
hangs fat
and lush
in black sky
Warm night
of spring
finally arrived
Breathe it in
keep me sane
(D. James)
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Posted by D. James on 17 March 2008
I crack my skull
on a violent shift
of perspective
Eyes sting
from the blood
but now
I can finally see
the pain
of reality
(D. James)
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