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)
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)
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)
light and dark
laughter and tears
never and always
right and wrong
bone and dust
blood and guts
intransigent and flexible
solid and liquid
everything
and
nothing
(D James)
white sheet
blank paper
and the
screen in your head
goes black
who ever said
you can’t get there from here
didn’t know where you were
to begin with
so how did they know
where you’d end up
(D. James)
and and and
adding to what
was said
and and and
bringing together
disparate thoughts
and and and
an endless string
of ideas
and and and
where I’ve been
and and and
where I’m going
(D. James)
lost under a sea
of unfocused thoughts
mind-numbing wandering
through disconnected
days of fear and self-loathing
wondering
where it went wrong
where I went wrong
feeling out of place
out of time
out of my mind
like a character
in an unfinished
Beckett play
waiting for something
like life
to begin
unable to go on
with no choice
but to go on
immobile
immovable
immature
with all the courage
of a well-fed
old house cat
wanting to know
how it all ends
when I should be thinking
where to begin
(D James)
my pen falls
from the table
into a dark shadow
kicking
to catch it
with the side
of my shoe
spinning
it skitters
into the light
much like my thoughts
on this deathly cold day
(D. James)
thinking thoughts on
trains in tunnels
that take us to
toiling tasks like tinker toys
trudging to their terminus
can we keep
clear of calamity and
concious of creation or
will we wile awhile then
whip ourselves or
take the time
to think thoughts on
trains
while wishing
we weren’t wending our
way to work
(D. James)
sat up
half the night
with unhappy thoughts
come morning
they were still there
in a chair
by the bed
pulled them on
with my jeans
wore them
all damn day
till they
wore me out
sat up
half the night
with unhappy thoughts
determined that
in the morning
they’d be gone
moved the chair
into the kitchen
just in case
(D. James)
Thoughts
without discernible
patterns
scattered across
my mind
It’s a good thing
I don’t drive
based on my
feelings
(D. James)