Archive for December, 2008

30
Dec
08

untitled 12/29/2008

The red

Wine,

Combined with the music,

Takes the edge off

Of

A long day

And a

Hard life.

Nothing comes easy,

Nothing is easy,

But

Everything is

What it is.

Luckily,

I am content

To live

With what I can get,

Since I am

Lucky

To be

Alive.

Thank God for small miracles.

**

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/29/2008

29
Dec
08

Fresh Baked

My daughter sleeps

With grunting

Noises

Coming from her room,

As she twists

And wriggles

In her bed-

Becoming entangled

In her soft, fuzzy blanket.

**

I’ve got music

Playing

In the background

And

A glass of Port

In reach

And a head

Full

Of random parental

Thoughts and worries.

**

The air is full

With the aroma

Of freshly baked cookies

Because

You can’t have Christmas without baking something.

She’ll awake

Tomorrow

To the lingering smell

And will be

Thrilled

When she sees

The cookie

In her lunch box-

“My daddy baked it!”

**

As I head to bed,

I’ll stop

In her room

And untangle

The soft, fuzzy blanket

And kiss her forehead.

Like I do every night.

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/28/2008

29
Dec
08

untitled- 12/28/2008

Out of nowhere,

Triggered

By something

I read,

Those melancholy feelings

Returned

To remind me

Of all those pains

From the past.

Not all pain is bad though.

Some pain

Is

Just a reminder

That you once loved unconditionally, even if it meant getting hurt in ways you never saw coming. You still did it. You still believed in it. You still believe in it now as you sit in the semi-dark trying to find words to validate the belief that love is worth it. That love is the only currency you’ve ever had any luck with keeping a grip on. That love is what you have spent your whole life fighting for- and with good reson.

It’s ok

To believe.

You still do

And you can’t

Stop-

That much remains

A truth

Still.

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/28/2008

28
Dec
08

Pisces Dream

Standing on

The wet side

Of the water’s edge,

With my

Pisces feet

Resting in the cool

Saltwater

Of the Pacific Ocean,

I stop to feel

The air

In my nose

And the sun

On my face.

Pisces Feet

Pisces Feet

All my life

I have lived

This way-

The water as necessary

As the air

I breathe.

All my life

I have stopped

To remoisten

My scales

And the let oxygen

Be pulled from the water

By my gills.

I’ve lived

With saltwater

Always

Close enough

To be reached

When I have needed it most.

There was many a night

Where I walked the water’s edge in bare feet and the brooding, moody thoughts of a Pisces coursing through my head.

The water

Always

Bringing me back

To the ground

I must walk

In this waking world.

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/27/2008

19
Dec
08

Belief

She believes in me

In ways

I am not

Sure I do

Myself.

Her words of praise

And support

Are not unheard of

In my life,

But certainly feel

Different

And unique.

Maybe

Something is lost

In translation

That would make me

Feel

Different,

But I’m happy

With this

The way it is.

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/18/2008

18
Dec
08

untitled- 12/17/2008

Waiting

For the wine

To take effect,

Coupled

With the blood thinners

I have to take

To keep

The blood cells

From banding together

And fighting against me.

I’ve become something

Of a cheap date

Now-

Just a couple

Glasses of red wine

Makes me

Sleepy

Now.

Hopefully

The stress

Of the day

Will fade away

Now

So that I can

Go to sleep,

Finally,

And rest.

Rest quietly

And without waking

Every few minutes

To examine

My thoughts

Just once more.

Once more again.

Once more again until I can no longer take it and find myself sitting at my computer answering emails at 2:30 in the morning just to shut that particular thought out- hopefully.

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/17/2008

16
Dec
08

untitled 12/15/2008

There are

Moments

When the doorways

Of

My mind

Seem to stick

Open,

Or possibly closed,

And the same short loop

Of a song

Or a thought

Plays again and again and again and again

Like an old record

With a deep scratch

And the needle skipping

Over the same spot

Over the same spot

Over the same spot

Over the same spot

Until the cautious hand

Carefully

Lifts the needle

Out

Of the groove

Of thought.

It seems I have many grooves

Or scratches

For the needle

These days.

Most of my sleepless nights are cuased by the insane perseverations of a mind refusing to move on past a thought or short verse or simple lyric

Turning again and again and again

Until the alarm

Goes off

And I am forced out of the groove

And into the shower

And into the routine

Of breakfast

And coffee

And driving to work.

And driving to work.

And driving to work.

Timothy Vance Jackson

12/15/2008




December 2008
M T W T F S S
« Nov   Jan »
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031  

Blog Stats

  • 6,274 hits

Top Clicks

  • None

Top Posts