A TINY BIT OF GRASS
I saw this bird today.
It was just a brief instant
I was in a parking lot headed to
a job.
He was at the edge of the lot in a tiny bit of grass we had left him.
There was this instant that I knew
for certain,
for absolute certain,
that this bird was important.
So important that I would remember the motion of his body as he
paused for an instant to
look at me.
So important that I would remember
how he moved,
as important as a red wheelbarrow,
or a player on a stage,
he raised his wings
and made that poking motion at the ground and
he was important,
not just another bird,
noticed by just another person
because there is no such thing as
just another bird
or just another person.
There is only one bird
only one
person.
and yet I pause in this twilight moment to ponder
was this the same bird
let loose above the streets of paris
in ’45
or the same bird who called to chopin
there is only one bird,
one person
and we paused, that bird and I
we paused to
notice each other and then, like good soldiers
we continued on to
our
jobs
bird poem- David Michael Jackson 2005 editors@artvilla.com
On our wedding anniversary,
I try to remember
annual anniversary gifts:
we’ve passed wood, copper, iron,
and are just passing tin, steel,
and aluminum now.
What on Earth do I buy
for a gift that’s aluminum?
I don’t think he wants
an aluminum briefcase.
Aluminum picture frame
magnets won’t work
on our stainless steel fridge.
Brushed aluminum wall tiles
over our kitchen sink
might be a good idea,
but that’s hardly
an anniversary gift…
The beaten square
aluminum cufflinks
look pretty good,
but I think the only time
he wore cufflinks
was on our wedding day.
So really, aluminum?
Oh, I suppose
the pliability of aluminum
shows how our marriage
needs to be flexible
and durable, and like
aluminum, which can be bent
without being broken,
we have to learn to bend
to each other’s wills
so that we can be
stronger when we’re together.
And we are.
With the low density
of aluminum, it is
the third most abundant
element here on Earth.
But the things is,
the aluminum metal
is too reactive chemically
to occur natively on Earth,
so it’s usually found
combined in ways with
over two hundred seventy
different minerals.
So, we see aluminum
because it mixes well
with others.
Good thing it’s pliable,
ductile, malleable.
Better thing it’s durable,
to withstand
the test of time.
And the thing is,
I’ve studied these elements
to see how they are needed
in the human body,
and despite aluminum’s
abundance on Earth,
it actually has no known
function in biology.
It’s remarkably nontoxic,
but because in the body
it competes with calcium
for absorption, it might
even lead to Osteoporosis…
Okay, I won’t eat this element,
I won’t use it in cookware.
Good thing I don’t need
antacids (which may
contain aluminum),
and although
I’ve never seen aluminum
in antiperspirants,
some researchers
have postulated
that using antiperspirants
with aluminum
may increase the risk
or breast cancer,
or potentially
Alzheimer’s disease.
(Great news
for the woman
with breast cancer
in her family history.
Great news
for the woman
with a previous
brain injury, so I
should watch for
Alzheimer’s disease.
Now I have more reasons
to worry about ingesting
the “nontoxic” aluminum.)
It’s funny, aluminum
was first used
in car engineering
and architecture
(those must have been
strong cars and buildings—
wait, they were “durable”,
but also, I’m afraid,
“flexible”, for
cars and buildings),
but then aluminum was used
in jewelry and fashion.
Kind of like
those cufflinks,
I suppose.
Hmmm.
In the meantime,
I’m going to
grab some leftovers
from the fridge,
get it out of the
aluminum foil
and eat before pondering
what his anniversary
present should be.
This is about as dark as I got in 1997. It has been the internet’s nobody cares poem since then and thousands have read it. It’s sad how many have asked for it over the years. I should not make excuses for it…It is to be noted that tha author of this Nobody poem still writes and paints…..write your despair down….publish it….and don’t shoot yourself in a corn field over your art or anything else……david michael jackson
Nobody reads poems, pal
books neither
nobody is going to read this crapola, buddy
why don’t you just open a gas station
or get a good factory job
they pay fourteen an hour at western polycom
nobody looks at art, bozo
why are you wasting your life on that
how much did you spend on all this canvas and paint
you need shoes
can you wear these paintings,
nobody cares
only assholes like you
you stupid bonehead
who gives a damn what T.S. Eliot said
when you boil it down it comes out to a big “beats the shit out of me” anyway
so why even say it, I mean why not just chase some tail, instead.
Ya know?
Now maybe you should read a recent poem by David, his beautiful flower poem
There’s a seeming realness of grounded thought
and an awkward fit of another human
in our dream.
We can share space and agree
to be tolerate of illusion.
We can agree to share some meaning in our lives.
Meaning is the weight in our heads.
It could be excessive rumination,
the looped reels of life
or the invisible force behind our acting out,
the dream that makes us crazy or calm
or sure of what could never be but is.
Meaning is the assignment of the soul.
We long for the fire of illusion
that does not contradict
our earth bound reality
but rides along on a higher plane,
something that sparks the aura,
tingles the essence and
sends vibrations through the cosmos.
We long for the embodiment of love,
torn between blissful numbness
and the excitement of too much stimulation
and weighted expectations
all for reasons we do not realize
are substitutes for what we can not know.
