Y2K Internet Blues Poem by David Michael Jackson

Y2K Boo-Hoo Blues

forks and spoons may not work in a few hours

no more cars

no more tv to bother us

no airplanes flying overhead

making noise

no more traffic lights

no computers

no internet

how quiet it will seem

maybe the birds will sing



we can hear the wind in the

trees again

remember the wind in the trees?

It was on the cd they put out

with all those sounds

it is good that we recorded them

so we’ll



Winter Poem by David Michael Jackson

winter and the trees have no leaves

Beauty is the stolen moment
of a single green field among
the grey of the trees.
Beauty is the sudden reddish brown
of the grasses
and the clear view
of the fields through the dark trees,
the daring of the hawk as he
somehow avoids
the barren branches and
soars through the woods.
Beauty is the single glimpse
of a deer family
in the


Internet Poets Poem by David Michael Jackson

Web Published Poets

I hail to you

sentient ones

keepers of the morning dew

masters of the web so

recently spun

hail to you

who dare submit

who dare feel and tell

hail to you




lucky ones who

know the morning dew

for the sunrise comes

and the sunset


so wail




each day is not an


only the gift of


and young

and hope

hope for a stricken child

hope for a grandmother

hope for a prisoner

for we are all prisoners

and hope

that says indeed there is

a new law of God’s physics

all that matters cannot be destroyed


The Soldier's Poem by David Michael Jackson


I reach inside and I twist

my heart out of my chest and I

hold it in my hands.

It is beating for you

rumba rumba baby baby

rumba rumba

can you hear my heart

I can feel it beating for those children of war

who did nothing

to earn

a look at the blood in the street

who did nothing

to learn

of the sound of gunfire in the night.

rumba rumba baby baby

rumba rumba

for the soldiers who said I’ll go

and went

and found not what they were seeking

only the

gunfire in the street

and the children


Fires of War Poem by David Michael Jackson

To Heal

I want to say that
I am sorry
it is not enough to be sorry
it is not enough to cry
it is not enough to get even
or even to try to turn the other cheek.
The refugees gather at the border
“Their lives matter too”
It is enough to become quiet
in the silence of the crowd
it is enough to honor with silence
the dead and the living
it is enough to love again
and to feed the hungry ones
in silence
we cannot heal wih revenge
we must heal this wound
in our hearts
we bleed in silence
our tears fall into the rubble
but the fires still burn