Archive for November, 2009

26
Nov
09

Thanks

On this day of thanks

I find myself

Thankful

For a small woman

Sitting thousands of miles

Away

From me

On a small island,

Visiting her family

And sending messages

Of her love

Across the miles-

The texts

Reminding me

Of my blessings

As I think of her

And miss her toes

Under the table

Touching mine.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 26, 2009

26
Nov
09

untitled 11/25/09

Sleep

Sits across the room

From me

And taunts me-

Staring quietly,

But refusing to

Speak to me.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 25, 2009

24
Nov
09

unfinished fragment 11/24/09

The bed she usually sleeps in

Is empty and still-

The covers still in place,

The pillows still propped up.

Her grunts and snorts,

Like a little animal,

Unheard here for now

Until she returns again.

***

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 24, 2009

 

 

24
Nov
09

By now

By now

She’s probably

About 30, 000 feet

Above the earth

And halfway

Between our home together

And her home in Taiwan.

Normally,

I’m the one

Leaving

Home behind and below

As I go

Somewhere.

But this time,

It’s her-

Leaving me to sit

And worry,

And wait for her call,

To tell me that

She has arrived

Safely.

In several more hours

She’ll be sitting with her family-

My new family-

Telling them of us

And our home

And how she misses

Them and there.

Until I hear her voice again

I will sleep only partially

And I will

Toss around

In our bed-

My left leg permanently searching

For her right leg

To touch

With a toe or two.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 24, 2009

24
Nov
09

untitled 11/24/2009

It’s in the dark and quiet that things get scary-

Not because of the dark

Or the quiet,

But because

Of the lack of distraction

That serves as a cover

For all the thoughts

And fears

That always lurk

Just beneath

The surface.

Without the convenient

Veneer

Of just getting through

The day,

The complications

And the worries

Return

To stake their claim

To my time.

It is in the dark

That the fatigue sets in

And the quiet

Of tiredness

Cracks

Through.

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 24, 2009

24
Nov
09

Too quiet

It’s simply too quiet

In this small apartment

Filled with a life,

A family,

Too much crap

And innumerable memories

From now

And before.

Sharing this space

With nobody

Other than the fish

And the turtle,

The room feels larger-

And yet choking

In its powerful

Silence.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 24, 2009

22
Nov
09

*Ode to Robert Creeley- Confused

Mind’s full

Of emotions.

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 22, 2009

*Robert Creeley’s poem;

Sick

Belly’s full

of rubble.




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