Archive for January, 2013

20
Jan
13

The morning brings no joy

The sad shuffling of feet-

Him a few feet ahead,

Her a few sad feet behind-

Head low,

Shoulders down,

Trying

Not to let go

Of him

And a broken “them”.

A snapshot

Of the moment,

From my window,

Without a clue

Who said what,

Who let go first,

Who is

Unforgiven.

One sad face

And one set

Of angry eyes,

But who

Hurt who?

At slightly after

1:00AM,

The morning

Brings no joy,

And the emotional hangover

May hurt more

Than the actual hangover

In a few more hours.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 20, 2013

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20
Jan
13

Those eyes, forever…

Those big, dark eyes

Haunt me

And chase me-

In my dreams,

In my thoughts,

In my nights and days.

They are always there.

Always.

The smell of her,

The taste of her,

The feel of her,

The thought of her

Is always there.

Always.

There is no escaping

Her,

And the ghost of her

In my memory.

Ever.

She is,

Even when she isn’t,

Powerfully unforgettable.

She’s mine,

And yet nobody’s,

Other than her own,

Even though she wants more

From and for

Herself.

But it’s the eyes…

Those dark,

Haunting,

Beautiful eyes.

Those eyes-

Forever,

Those eyes.

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 20, 2013

20
Jan
13

An immeasurable distance in millimeters

The space

That exists

Between

She

And I,

Has been

A chasm of inches,

And an immeasurable

Distance

In millimeters.

Thousands of miles away,

Yet

Glued

To each other,

And then so close

That the gap

Felt greater

Than miles,

Or continents and oceans.

The love

So strong

To move

Time and space,

Reshape the map,

And shift time.

The quiet

So deafening,

Like a scream,

Yet her soft voice

Is like the

Toll of a cathedral bell.

The contradictions

And contrasts,

Etched into

Us both

For eternity.

A hopeful eternity.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 20, 2013

 

20
Jan
13

Just after midnight

Just after midnight

As the drunks

Spill out

Of the bars

And into the street,

Shuffling past

My apartment.

Below my window,

Stumbling

With laughter,

Holding each other

Off the sidewalk,

As they fumble

For keys

And missing wallets.

Occasionally

Pausing

For sloppy kisses,

And awkward groping.

Unaware

And uncaring,

That they are

Not

Alone

Here.

Eventually

They find their cars,

Occasionally

Surrendering

The keys

To a lesser drunk,

Or less frequently calling

A taxi,

Then continuing

The clumsy

Lust

On the hood of the car,

Beneath a street light,

Bathed in yellow

And basted

In beer.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 20, 2013




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