Take All of Me Billie Holiday


 

Oh Billie

I can hear you in the train as it

cries out in the night

Chicago

Memphis

New Orleans

Oh Billie

I can hear you in the

way my memories fall in  little

pieces on the stair

Oh Billie can you make that horn player play

Don’t explain

Take all of me
Take all of me
Take all of me
Don’t leave anything behind
Don’t leave anything behind

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P0hG3sD0-E&feature=related

 
 
 

david michael jackson

Poem : A Fish Story by Seymour Shubin

Child's fish drawing

A Fish Story

We took our little son to a carnival
He must have been five or six
And we came across a game
Which if you won, you won a goldfish.
I didn’t want a goldfish but my son did
So I threw something that connected
With something
And the little boy came home with a goldfish
in a water-filled plastic bag
He was so happy and we were happy
For him
But the next morning he came to our bed
Crying
It seems he tried to change the water
But he did it over the toilet
And the fish dropped down
Forever lost
The boy was crying so hard, poor thing
And so I told him that the fish
Had made its way to the river
And was with his mother and father and brothers and sisters
And friends, oh yes friends
A 60 year old lie which I wish I could believe in now
To meet my mother and father and sisters
And brother again
And oh yes, all those old friends.

Poem by Seymour Shubin   Drawing by Michael Franklin 1999, age 6

Seymour ShubinSeymour Shubin-02Seymour Shubin Witness To Myself

Socks in the Corner Poem

My brain is tired

the left side

in the front

the part that thinks

it’s in charge.

I drink the bottled water and try to

make the other side say that it is there

that I don’t have to add things up

that the socks in the corner will be

fine for now

that it all didn’t matter anyway

but the socks in the corner

need washing

and they lie there staring at me

like dishes

 

 

 

david michael jackson

The Cat and the Moon Poem by Yeats

The Cat and the Moon

 
The cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon
The creeping cat looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon, 5
For wander and wail as he would
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass,
Lifting his delicate feet. 10
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
When two close kindred meet
What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn,
Tired of that courtly fashion, 15
A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
From moonlit place to place,
The sacred moon overhead
Has taken a new phase. 20
Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils
Will pass from change to change,
And that from round to crescent,
From crescent to round they range?
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass 25
Alone, important and wise,
And lifts to the changing moon
His changing eyes.

 

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939).

He Folds His Words into Pastry Shells

He folds his words into pastry shells
and bakes them at 98.6
for as long as it takes to type these words
then he reads these words
and makes changes until
just maybe
for a moment
you can see the line in the water
and the float
bobbing
bobbing
THERE
it disappears
a strike!
It’s gone
and you grab the pole
and yank
and just maybe
for a moment
you remember.

david michael jackson