Now I Lay Me Poem by Seymour Shubin

NOW I LAY ME…

Sleep is easy
Just close your eyes
And
Try not to think
But if you must
Think only happy
Ones, like the time
No that wasn’t so happy
Think of the seashore.
The waves
Think of the waves, count
Them
All right, fifty is enough,
Think of other things
Like the time.
Like the time
Think of pretty things,
Like…like her,
Oh God, now the heart is racing,
Nothing feels comfortable,
Not this bed, the pillow
All right, pillows
Get a drink of water
And one of the pills
Just one more
Stop kidding yourself,
You’ve had one,
Just don’t take another
Mustn’t take another
Count…keep counting
.My God it’s three o’clock.
You shouldn’t have looked at your watch
Shouldn’t have turned on the light and looked at it
On the nighttable.
Tomorrow I promise
No more pills
Just the one more tonight
One more
And not tomorrow
Ok, ok, this one, just this one….
Please God don’t let me
Wake up dead

 

Now I lay me, the just one more poem copyright 2012 Seymour Shubin

 
Seymour ShubinSeymour Shubin-02Seymour Shubin Witness To Myself

Seawinds Poem The Catharsis

Catharsis
You happened so rarely
like some endangered
species you were.
You built my tension like
sex
and released me in
a torrent and I rose and fell off off
your cliff
into bliss that could never last but must
fly out like fireworks for
an instant
oh where have you been my love
my one
my only
oh where have you been my one and only
I digress
and you wait for me
wait upon your soft pillows

 

More That’s Not Music

 

david michael jackson  june 11, 2012  editors@artvilla.com

Good night poem

 

let the light flicker again tonight

leave the lights on she sings

oh oh the music stops

the music always stops then begins

like the leaves always wave

making holy sounds with the winds

Discouragement Dave

sing another song of discouragement

foolish one

the night brings a kind of wisdom

unknown by the day

the flowers close at night

good night

 

david michael jackson  June 9, 2012

I Shall Poem by David Michael Jackson

Stalker

There is indeed a stalker in my dream
He waits among the broccoli sprouts
Waiting for me to pass as an ant today
Today I shall be the smallest ant in the field
I shall carry the pieces of leaves toward
Pyramids
I shall ride in your collar and wonder at your
Life
I shall wonder at the cashier, the driver, the toll
gate worker, so many strangers
You’d think I’d have seen them all by now
So many like me
Engineer with prints, artist with canvas, musician with violin of very
old wood,
So many to the slaughter, so many like me
Walt’s wagons is now the semi-trailer driver
The same staunch strength, he has not changed
So many like me
The press operator stamps parts with earplugs in place
His grandfather the blacksmith is in his hands, in his feet
They are the same among so many
This farmer’s son has wide feet for the plowed earth,
Sits in his cubicle without the need for wide feet
Writes poems he does, this ant in your collar
Shreds leaves
Builds pyramids

***

Dead Man’s Hand Poem by David Michael Jackson

Ultimate Game of Cards
by David Michael Jackson
The wind in the willows
whispers,
waits not for this poet whose
words are frozen,
and yet as restless
as the limbs which sway
carelessly like
youth which is
lost,
squandered in the ultimate
game of cards.
Aces and eights,
the dead man’s hand.
We are all holding aces and eights
and the wind in the willows
cannot help us.
I deal
a joker here
a queen there.
I am a lonely duece who
cannot sleep so I listen to the wind
in vain waiting for the
whisper.

***