So I’ll Leave a Seed Poem by David Michael Jackson

fall leaves painting
fall leaves painting David Michael Jackson

So I’ll leave a seed
a spore here on the page
and when you see it it will
take root
in your heart
in the strands of your muscles

but it cannot
can it

The words on this screen can only flicker
here for awhile
and cannot be the wind in the trees
or the yellow and reddish leaves falling from
those trees

Words are only words and yellow leaves are only
leaves and the wind
doesn’t know
they are catching the sunlight

and I’m not so sure myself

So I’ll leave a seed
a spore here on the page
and when you see it it will
take root
in your heart
in the strands of your muscles
and we will pretend it was possible

and this seed will grow
and because these words flickered for a moment
for a moment
you too can see the leaves falling
and you can say I once saw these
leaves falling and
they were black and they were white
and they flickered for a moment
and fell in piles
and I saw them
lying on the ground
yellow and red

At The Vet – Someday Poem by Seymour Shubin


The vet said, “Are you sure?”
And Glo said yes
But I was looking at the old girl
Walking around our feet, unknowing
And I said let’s take her home again
And see
But Glo said it’s too much of a mess.
Kind Glo who had brought Lady home
Many years ago and loved her
So we lifted the poor thing up
To the table
And she lay there, tail slapping
And I watched the needle go in
And the poor thing’s movements
Stopped almost immediately
And all I could think of
Why not for human suffering
Perhaps me some day?

Seymour ShubinSeymour Shubin-02Seymour Shubin Witness To Myself

“If” by Rudyard Kipling (poetry reading) and Poem


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling- If
Rudyard Kipling- If