momentary loss of concentration

Between the moments

Of work

And life,

My mind often

Drifts

Away

From the constant glow

Of the screen

In front

Of me.

Lingering over

Her

Body

And her lips

Pressed

Against mine,

Embracing

With arms

And legs

Entwined

Again.

Forever.

Between

The spreadsheets

And numbers

And emails

And calls to be returned,

The curves

Of her

Return

To me,

Like the scent

Of a distant flower

On a long ago night

From my childhood

Memories

Growing up in Alabama-

Maybe a magnolia,

Or perhaps

Honeysuckle.

So soft and subtle,

Yet noticeably

There-

Distinctly sweet

And delicate.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 29, 2011

the finding

I find

Myself

Between

The words

And the searching.

In the friction

Between

The finding

And the

Wanting,

I exist

In the space

Left empty

By the process.

In the uneasy

Peace

That exists

In the emptiness

Of time

Between

Fulfillment

And need,

I linger

With growing

Anxiousness

And desire

For more.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 27, 2011

imperfect

For as hard

As it has been

For me

To accept that

I am

An imperfect man,

It has been

Harder

For me

To fight

To overcome

That imperfection

And strive

To be

Better

Than

My weaknesses.

The willingness

To allow

The easiness

Of frail

Human weakness

To prevail

Is stronger

Than the

Ability

To overcome

The inertia

Of stillness.

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 22, 2011

the couch

Most nights

Before I fall

Asleep

On the couch,

I wander

To my daughter’s room,

To make sure

Her blanket

Is covering

Her

And that she

Is

Warm enough-

And still

Breathing.

Then,

I carefully

Walk

Into my own room

To make sure

That my wife

And the baby

Are both covered

And both breathing.

Each rise and fall of their chests, a blessing to me, keeping them here with me a little longer.

Then

I shuffle off

To the couch

To rest,

Before

Stumbling sleepily

Back to bed,

And the restless sleep

Of two tiny feet

And hands

Thrashing

In her sleep

And my restlessness.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 22, 2011

Free me

Free me

From this

Place

Within

My self,

Where doubt

Is King

And rules over

Reality

Without cause

Or reason.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 20, 2011

Bottle

The bottle

Invites

Me

Back

Into its warm embrace

With (empty) promises

Of

Creativity

And endless

Words

That flow

Freely,

Without distraction

Or concern

For where

They come from.

The well

Is

Endless

And bottomless,

Within the bottle

And its fluidity.

It calls

And beckons,

Mocking me

With its quiet

And calm-

Which I no longer

Possess

Within myself.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

December 4, 2011

Daddy’s Girl

Sometimes

When I sit

Still

Long enough

To listen

To all the voices

In my head,

I often find

My mind

Wandering off

To places

I don’t want to go.

The doubts,

The fears,

The worries-

They always

Find me.

Am I

Doing enough?

Am I

A good enough

Father?

Am I

A good enough

Man?

Will I

Ever grow up?

Will I

Ever find

My way,

My voice,

My path,

My world?

My daughter sleeps

While the thoughts

And doubts

And fears

Attempt

To devour me

And the little

Sprouts

Of progress

And growth

And security

In my Self.

But I know

That she loves me

For who I

Am

And not

Who I might be

Under better circumstances.

She will

Wake up

In the morning

And kiss me

And tell me

That

She loves me-

Unaware

Of my fears

And doubts

And worries.

I’ll go to bed

With my stomach

Knotted

And my mind

Spinning,

But a few feet away through a crappy apartment wall, she will sleep peacefully and without worry at all.

I will try

To remember

That

As I grind

My teeth

Again-

Dreaming for morning

And her kiss.

Timothy Vance Jackson

11/16/2008

Lunch

Sitting

In a noisy

Saturday-lunch-crowd

Cafe

With my daughter,

Next

To a noisier

Four-top

With two couples

Of 50-somethings.

His arms

Spread across the table,

In the palms-up pose

Of Christ

At the last supper-

“Notice anything new about my face?”

The tone

Indicating newsworthy importance.

“No, not really. Did you get something done?”

“It’s a regime. Started about six weeks ago. It’s like 6 or 7 different products. My skin has never looked or felt so good in all my adult life!”

“God, you look great!”

“Jesus, you wouldn’t believe how much I’m spending on this shit! It’s crazy, but the results speak for themselves.”

Suddenly

My appetite

Is waning.

Slowly at first,

But I can

Feel

My salad

Becoming

Much less desirable.

Immediately,

I see

That the driver

Of the flashy

Maserati

Is

Sitting beside me.

“I’ve got a girl that I go to see once a week. She checks my progress and advises me on what products I should add or stop using. She can’t believe how far my skin has come in just six weeks.”

Neither can I.

It has come

To sit

Here

Next to me.

Thankfully

My daughter is

Blissfully distracted

By her hamburger and fries.

“I’m tellin’ you, the shit is worth its weight in gold, which is good since that’s what I’m paying for it!”

As he turns

To face

The other

Couple,

I see

The small

(but growing)

Bald spot

And

Maliciously think

To myself,

“I get it now. What else is failing? Little blue pills by the bed, I wonder.”

The bright sun

Outside

Calls to

My daughter,

The Girl of Summer,

And I finish

My salad

And iced tea

So we can

Pay the bill

And leave.

“I swear, I haven’t looked this fucking good since I was 40!”

Recognizing

That

I am

Edging up to

40

Myself,

I feel a knot

In my stomach

Forming

As I struggle

To not say

Anything

On the way out.

As my daughter skips

Down the sidewalk

With her hair

In the sun,

I bite back

The jealous rage

That boils

Within.

Suddenly

And almost without

Notice,

I think

Of the five dollar

Face soap

In my shower

And the cold shudder

Grips me

As I walk

In the summer sun.

Timothy Vance Jackson

08/16/08

For my daughter on a Saturday morning.

Her dark eyes

Sparkle and glisten-

Fixed upon

The TV.

Her lips

Are perfectly

Shaped

For such a

Young

Girl.

Her skin is like

Silk

And tanned by Summer’s

Sun

And endless smiles.

The most

Incredible child

And

She’s mine.

I don’t

Know

Why

I am

So blessed to have her

In my life.

The divorce

That

Has created a single father with a beautiful young daughter

Who smiles

Endlessly

Through it all-

Much more so

Than I.

There will

Never

Be

Quite the same feeling

In my life

As knowing

That her blood

And mine

Are the same.

She’ll exceed me in every conceivable way, one day

And I will

Beam with pride

And

A touch of guilt,

Wondering if I

Could

Have

Done more

To inspire her

To even greater greatness.

For now,

With college years away,

It’s the eyes

That do

The most damage

To me

And

Give me the greatest hope.

Timothy Vance Jackson

08/16/08

untitled

It seems

As though

It has

Been

Too long

Since

I have

Felt

This way.

So alive

With that electric crackle and sizzle of nerves on fire

And yet

No

Place for it

All-

Until now.

Timothy Vance Jackson- August 15, 2008