David Jackson

Spider Poem by Robert Frost

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Design
Robert Frost

——————————————————————————–

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth–
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth–
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?–
If design govern in a thing so small.

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Bird Poem by David Michael Jackson

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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

You may also like my shoes poem

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Gardener’s Fern Book Poem

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The Gardener’s Fern book
was filled with clutter.
A program from a flower show
at the Mattatuck Museum,
with a special thanks from Judge Gray.

Mom’s ‘hide and seek’ exhibit
was judged,
too sophisticated for the masses,
or so they say.

There was a Father’s Day card
and
A Valentine for Someone Special.

Imagine going through this book
after she was gone?
With all her belongings
calling; falling,
as leaves from a tree.

Nobody Poem

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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