art music poetry

Blinded by the Light of Your Eyes Poem by Susan Mandel

by

Susan Mandel
(1)
Blinded by the light in your eyes
I cannot see the truth.
The darkness in your stare tells me
that dreams fade by the light of day.
Who do I see when I open my eyes?
Does it really even matter?

(2)
When you run to catch up with yourself
do you ever reach the end?
Exhaustion is bound to catch you before you do.
If the exhaustion doesn’t kill you, will you kill yourself?
Or can you not run quickly enough for even that.
Keep trying.
Swim.
Run.
Ride.
You’ll catch up eventually.
Just in time to see yourself die.
Never having found a finish line.

El Fuego Y Agua Poema by David Michael Jackson

by

El Fuego
por David Michael Jackson
Traducido por Jodey Bateman

No se apaga el fuego
Arde como fuego, como pena, sabes, como pena
Mozo, trae agua, agua para mi fuego, agua fresca, dulce y clara
Las pablabras no sirven. No sirven ni palabras ni labores
La espada clava adentro, sí, en la panza, en el abismo
Y las palabras no obtienen favor
Come el durazno, hombre, come el durazno, sí
atrévelo entonces, enconces, entonces
¨Queda más tiempo?
Tiempo entre crecer y envejecer
Tiempo entre el río y el mar
Come el durazno, hombre
es bueno
es dulce

Boothswargled in Boatswain by David Michael Jackson

by

Once when the lager were carrying their coats
in the sultry swemult of laggon’s presence,
in the swarthy simult
of essence itself.
Let us just say,
condense it to primulfigance,
leave it homing,
as the harrial is cresting to the himult
and the sweevers are weaving,
lasoming, hanging helpless in
swammance itself.
Oh swammance!
Oh swammance!

boothswargled

My dog was run over poem by Wayne Jackson

by

Dog Run Over

The dog lay in the street
a small
mass
of torn hair and blood pressed in pavement
and eyes hanging loose from the sockets.
and puddled liquid
soaking into rocks
quivering like
wind through light lines.
Once it licked and barked
its way about the house
chasing Boo and Boo him.
I didn’t see the car that hit him.
Was it someone I knew?
or a stranger driving swiftly on
an unknown road.
Couldn’t they have stopped
to make sure
to at least see
and mumble something
or other.
What would Boo say?
Could I tell him
it’s only sleeping
would he notice
it wasn’t moving
at
all

Dog Run Over Poem copyright Donald Wayne Jackson 1989

I Married a Hippy Poem by Andy Derryberry

by

love
I married a hippy
A pretty girl who
occasionally shared
my illegal smile.

But she really was
a sweet innocent child

And I looovvved her
And she looovvved me

But since Jesus moved in
It’s as if she hates me
And that just breaks my bones
And grinds me to dust

The way I understand it
He came for the likes of me
In fact it seems that He
Loves me just as I am

I know she remembers that..
That she loved me once
And if He could love me now
Couldn’t she? Again

You my wife
What do you know
If you loved me
You might save me too

Have I ever not been right?
***