David Michael Jackson

David Jackson is the publisher of Artilla.com, Motherbird.com and several other websites. David is an engineer, poet, artist, songwriter who has been presenting his material and the material of others on the Internet since 1998. David lives in Murfreesboro Tennessee.

Thick and Thin Blues, The she never left me blues lyrics by H.E. Hasben

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she never left me
so I never wrote
that she left me song
If she had left me I’d be rich
by singing that song all night long
if I had them
she done left me blues
I’d buy me some new shoes
to walk around the town singin’ those
she done left me blues
But I got them she stayed through thick and thin blues
there was no shakin’ her love and then some blues
I got them she stayed through thick and thin blues
what’s a man to do
oh what’s a man to do
so I never wrote
that she left me song
If she had left me I’d be rich
by singing that song all night long
if I had them
she done left me blues
I’d buy me some new shoes
to walk around the town singin’ those
she done left me blues

Oh she never left me
I’ve got them
she never left me
them thick and thin blues

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CHILD OF THE ROMANS poem by Carl Sandburg

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CHILD OF THE ROMANS

THE dago shovelman sits by the railroad track
Eating a noon meal of bread and bologna.
A train whirls by, and men and women at tables
Alive with red roses and yellow jonquils,
Eat steaks running with brown gravy,
Strawberries and cream, eclaires and coffee.
The dago shovelman finishes the dry bread and bologna,
Washes it down with a dipper from the water-boy,
And goes back to the second half of a ten-hour day’s work
Keeping the road-bed so the roses and jonquils
Shake hardly at all in the cut glass vases
Standing slender on the tables in the dining cars.

CLARK STREET BRIDGE POEM BY CARL SANDBURG

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CLARK STREET BRIDGE

DUST of the feet
And dust of the wheels,
Wagons and people going,
All day feet and wheels.

Now. . .
. . Only stars and mist
A lonely policeman,
Two cabaret dancers,
Stars and mist again,
No more feet or wheels,
No more dust and wagons.

Voices of dollars
And drops of blood
. . . . .
Voices of broken hearts,
. . Voices singing, singing,
. . Silver voices, singing,
Softer than the stars,
Softer than the mist.

Post anything he says and get with it poem by David Michael Jackson

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Post anything, he says.
Wish for anything,
hope for everything.
Leap,
run through the few doors
which open,
and give
thanks.

To Posters in Wordplay:

As you can see the blog has morphed. It is now in control of poetry. Help us to get out of it’s clutches. Post…..it isn’t that hard…..login is way at the bottom on the right it takes you to a new page from which you select WRITE or MANAGE to write new stuff or edit. The new look is great!

If you forgot your password just ask it to email it to you or contact DMJ

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Again poem by David Michael Jackson

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The ends of his fingers
stroke the keys as he
tries again.
Oh to dance again,
to run again,
to simply
flow down the
stairs
again,
oh to play second base again,
he thinks.
Millions of dead planets revolve
around millions of stars, and he
want’s so much to matter.
In leau of that he’d
settle for
second base
again.

***