The Bet
by Seymour Shubin
I guarantee you, he said
At the end of his mother’s funeral,
That the dead will meet,
That they will look in full health
To each other,
Just as they were.
Oh yeah, I thought , and where
Do I collect if you are wrong?
But that was then and this is now
And oh how I miss her
And how I want to give
His money back.
Originally Publihed as The Bet Poem
We fought over an apple on the
train to Paris
and you kicked at me as
we crossed through the gate
onto the cobblestones,
two young Americans in Paris
having a lover’s spat and
making up.
We checked into that hotel
with the tiny balcony
and the red bed with the red curtains.
We were sprouts in a garden
that year.
We never imagined that
it couldn’t last, that time
would grow vines which would crawl up
us like it crawls up everyone
and hold us in factories and
houses and familiar streets.
Every cell in my body is different now and
you are gone,
as gone as Paris of that year.
The train
rolls again across
the French countryside,
rolls into Paris
on
tracks of memory
and we get the same
room and hitch hike across France again
speaking no French,
young Americans with our
thumbs out.
david michael jackson June 10, 2012 editors@artvilla.com
i wuz the last one standing
told off
hornswangled,
befittched,
narry a narnstitch to chamfer,
stalwrited agin,
the final blartly
last one standing I wuz,
barnsnorted right into thye cornswaint
petroclusive
blottled and confused
left there to think I was
left there to think
and think I did
david michael jackson sometime in the past editors@artvilla.com send caramel corn
We blacklisted those who
made us fear ourselves
It was us, not them.
We were there
We were there
John Brown.
We were there.
We were there in Berlin.
It’s is not they
it is we.
We stood by
millions were burned.
We were fearful.
We stood by while
the talk infested our
neighbors,
the talk of fear
for communism
for drugs
for 19 guys with box cutters
for Mexicans.
We climbed out of the sewer of our
collective fear
into the sunshine of truth
once, a long time ago
in a place called Congress
and we told a man called McCarthy
where to stick his fear
and if we have to
by God
we’ll do it again.
david michael jackson june 28 2012 editors@artvilla.com send peace
Mystic Blue Eyes (you shoulda held on to her)
You shoulda held on to her
Mystic blue eyes
Deep as the sky is high
Calm as water in the morning
Rough as the open sea
You shoulda held on to her
That little bit of trouble
Though not so much really
Tough but sweet
Hard but soft
You shoulda held on to her
She would have held on to you
The time quickly passes
If you don’t hold on tight
The sun rises
Love it before it sets
You shoulda held on to her
Lovely little lady
You knew her for a while
I knew her from a child
From when I was a kid
You shoulda held on to her
Now you don’t know where to look
Will she call
Will she come back
There’s no way to know
You shoulda held on to her
Mystic blue eyes
Deep as the sky is high
Calm as water in the morning
Rough as the open sea