Wheelchair Poem

It’s gotten easier.
My back is still giving me a problem
but I’ve learned to cope.
I’ve worked it out.
Getting her into the wheel chair is the easy part,
then I just back her up to this door
well first I have to block the door open
with this concrete block.
Then I bring her to the edge of the doorway
I gotta be careful as I lower her over the ledge
almost lost her once.
Once I get her out here
I can pull the chair over this concrete
and down those steps to that concrete ledge,
I have to pull the wheelchair backwards
up that hill in the back yard.
I drive the car up the hill
in the side yard and park it
back there with the door open.
Once I pull the chair backwards up that hill I can
pick her up and
put her in the car.
You want some coffee?

david michael jackson

 

Tell Me Why Poem

didn't_make_it
didn’t_make_it

TELL ME WHY

the branches grow here

and the seeds fall to the earth and

the wind blows across the land

and the rain just falls everywhere

and makes the seeds

grow

so tell me why the branches grow

and why the seeds fall

so tell me why the wind blows across the land

and why the rain falls everywhere

and why the seeds grow

ha I say

I, foolish one, knave, a gnome in the kings land

ha I say to the riddles my mind makes for me

to the why’s without what for’s

ha I say

this night of wind and moonlight

***
David Michael Jackson

Abstract Dancer Painting

Abstract Dancer Painting

abstract-dancer-painting
abstract-dancer-painting

I have to call him something on this internet. It doesn’t let you get away with “Blue and Green Number 12” or some other stupid modern name. He has to be named something that somebody will ask for. Chances are you asked for him. If he’s not an abstract dancer painting then you can go look at one of those that look like dancers that somebody painted weird colors.
Maybe he’s an abstract bear or something else but he’s an abstract dancer painting now and he’s going to have to take his chances there.

I’m an internet artist and people are going to see me whether they like me or not! Come to think of it, how is that different from a museum. I sneak around with my keywords and people visit my museum called Google.
People see my art and it’s not wasted nor does it wait to be declared worthy.
Maybe one of my images will inspire someone somewhere.

david michael jackson May 1 2012 editors@artvilla.com
Modern Art Paintings

The Dancer Poem by Seymour Shubin

dancers poem

The Dancer Poem

 

The Dancer Poem

I saw this so many years ago
On a school trip up the Hudson River to West Point.
This was before we got there
And the band was playing
And I looked into the large room on the deck
And saw her dancing.
Oh what a dancer! At one point
Her partner swung her so that the back of her head
Almost touched the floor.
And I remember a few days later
How, sitting in class next to her,
She asked if I would take her to the senior prom,
I who couldn’t dance a lick
And in my shock
I made up some excuse
And hating myself, for she was a beauty
As well as great dancer
And I even thought about it over the years
And then, finally, some sixty-five years later
In Death Notices in the morning paper
There she is, middle-aged-looking and still a beauty
And I wondered did she ever remember
Anything of that time,
Oh that time
That poor Wimpo can’t forget to this day

 

The Dancer Poem © Seymour Shubin 2013