I read DJ’s poem today
Full of fog, cold and truth
Only thing missing
a long jazz solo
to chill you to the bone
a good girl with sad eyes
and some green tea
to make words
glow a little harder
EL SEBBO
Monthly Archives: October 2007
SF impression
City of rain
and fog
Love of Kerouac
and Ginsberg
Home of corporate
hippies
Reminds me of
the 70’s and
Karl Malden
(D. James)
The title is longer than the poet itself
I measured myself today
EL SEBBO
urban landscape
Red lights
and wet streets
Car horns
and homeless
shouts
Billboards
and fog
Sidewalks
and streetcars
Motion
Sound
and Light
(D. James)
Yellow Woman
The writer speaks
The yellow woman asks questions
nobody understands
The writer answers politely
The yellow woman smiles
Outside words are pressing
their faces to the window
wondering
EL SEBBO
every night he drinks and every morning he wishes he hadn’t
Loosing his edge
like a thread
that unravels
your sleeve
Drunk but maintaining
his balance by
closing one eye
He makes it through
another night of lies
Hums a tune
he can’t remember
the words to
but he loves it
just the same
(D. James)
Tombstone
To DJ Eldon
This is the place where
old cowboys meet
with torn leather boots
and a toothless mouth
full of tobacco
Backs hurt
Whiskey burns
Memories flare up
A sign flaps in the wind
but you can’t read it
as it stands on the opposite
side of yer heart
EL SEBBO
Bodie
Dust of a ghost town
on my boots
Cold wind
blows
Old buildings groan
with defiance
Dust of a ghost town
in my mouth
as I leave this
cold, dead place
behind
(D. James)
A beautiful view (or why poems can’t be explained)
I live in that
house that you can’t see
and you live in that
house that you can’t see
EL SEBBO
defining moments
My addiction
consumes me
eats away
the brain
all day
well into evening
There seems no cure
just more
more
more
Circle with no end
dog chasing it’s tail
and I wonder …
am I the dog
or the tail?
D. James
A very short history of rock and roll (1980s)
It was while
we were listening
to the Residents
that she realized
she wasn’t
in love
with me
anymore
EL SEBBO
wheredowegofromhere
out of time
out of words
out of ideas
out to lunch
out of town
out on a limb
out of my mind
all the time
with words that
mean nothing
and nowhere to
go …
but out.
(D. James)
Fucking around
Today I told myself
to stop fucking around
but I told myself
I could fuck around
as much I as wanted too
because after all
it is always myself
who has the final
word
EL SEBBO
drift
Drifting
through the days
Thoughts lost
and found
then lost again
Half-said sentences
of things I forgot why
I wanted to say
At least I remember
to shut up now
and again
(D. James)
No ego
When I speak
my words
stop belonging
to me
When I speak
I disappear
in musical
air
El Sebbo
Civil night
Night begins
brings with it
an understanding
of darkness
Sky full of
moon and stars
Sleep and you’ll
miss it …
everything
slowed down
Thinking time
peaceful
quiet night
(D. James)
Black hole
Alcohol
is poetry’s black hole
Things get sucked in
deformed until they disappear
leaving only the outline
of their shadow
in the painful
poetic skies
EL SEBBO
Morning breaks
Sunlight crashes
through the window
knocking darkness
to the floor
They wrestle
tearing up the
apartment
making such a
racket the landlord
calls to say
“knock it off”
As if there’s
anything I could do
to stop the sunrise.
D. James
Nordic skies
Another beautiful sky
through the kitchen window
I wonder what’s so special
about them nordic skies
Inspiration maybe
EL SEBBO
It’s what we do
People are funny
we work
and eat
and think
We talk
and talk
and talk
Watch them
as they walk by
(and, Oh, how I love
to watch them walk by)
Then we go home
and sleep
and sleep
and sleep
People are funny
D. James
The amazing power of poetry
Sebastien Doubinsky
is a woman
EL SEBBO
abirdisabirdisabird
A bird
flew so close
I felt a flutter
of air on my ear
For me it was
a literal brush
with nature
For the bird
it was nothing
I could imbue
some human emotion
on the bird
but it would
be false
As the bird
only knows
survival
Eat and Sing and Fly
and nothing more
It is I who has
the overcomplicated
life full of conflicting
emotions that need
serious analysis
The bird is
just a bird
D. James
