I’ll Be Thinking of You


The sun comes up into a quiet sky
and the birds seem to float on by
When the sunlight hits the morning dew
I’ll be thinking of you.

When the wind catches the trees just right
and they sway gently in the soft sunlight.
When the shadows fall grey and blue
I’ll be thinking of you.

When the sun hits the top of the sky
and the day seems to rush on by,
Whenever I see a sky of blue
I’ll be thinking of you.

When the day fades into a setting sun
and the twilight sky has just begun,
when the moonlight seems yellow and blue,
I’ll be thinking of you.

With the sunset comes the nightime sky
and the wispy clouds float on by,
when the stars shine bright and true
I’ll be dreaming of you.

2011 Music by David Michael Jackson and Andy Derryberry in Murfreesboro, Tennessee
Artvilla.com

Girl-with-Cat-and-Dog-Painting….David Michael Jackson

Destroyer Poem

Facebook
destroyer of creativity
maker of average
it is a grade school friend
saying
you can’t sing
a weeks work flows by in two seconds
into oblivion
life is dark enough
out here in
give up land
out here in try again city
we are all children coloring in our
books
enjoying the mud
it is not important if the dirt
on our hands is pure
it is only important that our hands are dirty
from work
fuck the likes
fuck the shares
good art can come from
not being
liked
It’s best to throw the rock
from outside the window
It’s better to scream alone in the forest
God cannot hear you in the
crowd.

Passenger Creek Poem by David Michael Jackson

Sugar Camp Hollow
by David Jackson

We were raised in Sugar Camp Hollow
on Passenger Creek
where them reb soldiers camped it is
said
and the confederate gold is buried there
or so the story goes

and I knew you there
and you and I both knew
to leave those grounds
where the small creek meets Passenger.
We both knew to leave
those grounds
before dark.
You and I
shared the secrets of Sugar Camp Hollow,
them rebs,
that gold.

The neighbor Simpson
told the tale,
his skinny fingers
waving, pointing to that
spot where the springs
flow to create that
small
creek
that place
where dreams are
formed.

A poem for you
tonight
Sugar Camp Hollow,
Passenger Creek,
them rebs,
that gold,

and I pause beside this spring
of remembrance;

this moment is
a thin stream of water
flowing
from a tiny spring
somewhere
***

The Whittlers Poem by Jackson

He leans forward,

there was a time, sonny

when I saw old men whittling
at the courthouse
sitting there on benches these men
were in overalls and wore
wool hats stained
from the sweat of
days spent in the heat,
in the field,
old grey wool hats
stained with work.
They whittled, these old men
and spat tobacco juice
on the courthouse steps
and sometimes they grabbed
their stubble’d chin
and waved a skinny finger
as they made a point about
“them this”
and “them that”
but mostly it was the weather
and the outlook for the weather
and how they could work no more
and they whittled at the courthouse
and could be seen on Saturday,

our day in town.

I can sometimes see those
old farmers
spitting tobacco juice,

whittling,

and one of them looks
not quite at me but
above,

“Is that your boy?”

 

 

by david michael jackson

The Girl with Chestnut Hair Poem

You ask about love,
there was a girl with chestnut hair,
but that is song.

You ask about love,
we wandered in the sunshine
and barely noticed it was there.

Ah but those are memories
and I wander in my poem.

Animals are people and
memories are love,

Animals are people and
memories are love.

There was a cat.
There was a bird.
There is a cat.
There is a bird.

There was a poem,
it wafted in the breeze,
left a slight scent in the air,
like the girl with chestnut hair,
then was gone.

I Turned the Wheel, a Poem by David Michael Jackson

I Turned the wheel

I guess I never knew how
and maybe I didn’t do so well
at pleasing you
or being good when
I should have been good
for you
I guess I never knew how
and maybe I didn’t do so well

but I tried
I tried
I tried

I turned the wheel
I turned the wheel

I held the door when I could
I held your hand to remember

yes I tried
I tried
I tried

and when the wind runs in the trees
the trees say I love you
and when the rivers run to the sea
we’ll be there
we’ll be there

I guess I never knew how
and maybe I didn’t do so well
at showing you how I feel.

I turned the wheel
I turned the wheel

I held the door when I could
I held your hand to remember.

The ocean waves end at the shore
with the sounds of our love
and when the wind runs in the trees
the trees say I love you
and when the rivers run to the sea
we’ll be there
we’ll be there
we’ll be there

A Ramble a Day Keeps The Wolves at Bay

A Ramble a Day Keeps the Wolves Away

A spring and you’ve made it
A spring and a song
and no lady in the rain
enough
he said
where are you
where have you been
You’ve gone quantum on me
You’re only there when I look for you
in the metaphor
or the wind
and the rocks.
Is it time to be a rock again
Is it time for an infinity
unreachable in it’s tiny corner
like a point getting smaller than
I
am a bone already
and that’s all that’s left of me
THIS
these dry dry bones left here for you to find
in my own little Pompeii of brittle words

David Michael Jackson