The Dream Poem and…

He Looked Around

He looked around
as if in a dream
knowing insignificance
and feeling it.
The water still runs
and the sky is still blue but
all of the people in all of the cars in all of the cities
are in his dream,
driving,
waiting in line,
dreaming, looking out, walking, running, being.

He throws these words on this page.
These words are dreaming words
on a dreaming page.

On the street in the rain.
The water falls and rushes noisily.

The poet floats like a forgotten leaf
toward the drain.

Weebley Waffles

weebly waffles
weebly waffles

Weebley Waffles went to Wambly Academy

and he ran down the Wambly halls

down the Wambly walks

to Wanglewhat Inn where

he ran smack into Wappley Walbright and where

Weebles became

all blarneyed and festered

“I’m leaving Wambly”,  Weebley said that day at Wanglewhat

Now, don’t get me wrong, Wappley Walbright knew of both
Wambly’s and Wanglewhat’s respect for Weebley.
Wappley said, “Weebley Waffles you wangblatt! Wambly needs you.”
“Have no more whiskey, Weebley” said Wappley

david michael jackson

The Poem That Ended War

poem that ended war

He writes a poem when he needs one

and sometimes they go here

or                    over                     here

and sometime they hang

there

like they might say something important in a line of thought

but always this word<-  or that -> word

leads

somewhere else, but it doesn’t matter.

Even matter doesn’t matter.

In a parallel universe this poem ended war.

In this universe

war is hell

and this is just a poem

wishing

like all of the other poems

for

peace.

Angry Nursing Home Poem

Capitalism will leave you

penniless

sitting in dried poop

pressing a plastic button

press the button

“NURSE! NURSE FIRE FIRE FIRE!

nurse for a hundred dried poops

poor poor nurse

can’t call doctor for five hundred

went to school for this

poor poor nurse

 

press the button

 

while a smiling social worker

smiles sweetly at the family

and gives them all the right

answers

smile social worker

smile

be sure the team

cleans the dry poop

before the

ambulance arrives

 

 

 

based on true story………………..david michael jackson

poetry for peace poem

Yeah I’m there, man,

like a peach or a flower,
or a rock in the street,
picked up in the street
by a child and hurled at a tank,
while we visit the Hitler channel and
brag about our cluster bombs
and speak of freedom.
Whose flag?
Whose flag
shall we drape over the child?
Yours?
Mine?
And so this rock in the street, this
peach or a flower
bounces off the tank, and
falls again helplessly in the street
as helpless as this poem
as helpless as the peach or the flower or
the child

We can do this.
We can write this poem
We can read it.
for
peace
for
children and mothers everywhere.
Sing and rejoice for life
this day,
this day
and
tomorrow.
poetry for peace
poetry for peace
poetry for peace
poetry for peace

 

david michael jackson  Dec 2 2004  dave@artvilla.com