Poetry Posts

Creek Paintings ~ Three Paintings of a Creek

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Creek Painting 48″ x 36″

creek painting
creek painting

This creek painting was painted from a photograph of Passenger Creek in 1989. There was a tree in the photo which was not falling but certainly about to fall. It makes me think of the “tree falling in the forest” statement we all know. Maybe it was caught up in that branch. It adds an element of anticipation on the creek.  Here is our earlier post of this creek painting

All paintings have a story and even maybe a byline. This one has a byline. I painted it the day my brother died. I’d cut it into a thousand pieces if I could get him back. The last strokes went on when the phone rang. I was painting it for Wayne Jackson.

Creek paintings are plentiful. Fcreek-painting-02creek-painting-o3amous creek paintings I cannot seem to reference. Maybe this should be one.  Things don’t turn out that way though.

My first effort with this photo was this smaller creek painting . This painting was owned by  Wayne and is now in my possession. I had just started painting and he put it on his wall and bought a light for it. This sparked my painting efforts. The creek, in particular passenger creek has always been special for me. The creek represents a small out of the way unnoticed peace and tranquility. A place of small sounds, insects and birds. I grew up on a farm on a creek. My earliest memories are walking the trails beside this little creek, fishing and swimming with my brothers.

These creek paintings were my earliest efforts and maybe my best. They were impressions of peaceful times, of good times as a child. Oil paint has a way of becoming more translucent over the years. These creek paintings were painted in 1989. A few years later I began painting on paper and painted this last painting of the creek. This one is dated 1992. It is the last of the series.

Here iwayne jacksons a pic of my brother, Wayne Jackson.

 

 

Here is a link to his poems. He was, and is, my brother and friend. These paintings and my art are dedicated to him. He encouraged me. That is the greatest gift.

David Michael Jackson

editors@artvilla.com

 

On the Need to Write and The Reaper Poem by David Michael Jackson

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I need to remember to
write a poem before
the reaper takes me
takes me,
takes me like he took all the others.
Those
fallen down pieces of
granite were people just like
us,
fallen and unremembered by
everybody,
like my father.
There are many now
who don’t remember my
father but who
may remember me
and may someday read these
scribblings which
a nobody moron
loser like me
at least took the time to
write.
So write,
leave scribblings on the walls
of your cave.
***

If Only Poem by Andy Derryberry

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If Only

If I had my way there’d only be laughs and giggles

We’d all be innocent and a little tipsy

Smiling at the slightest thing

Never hurt or angry, nor scared or injured

Soaking in every moment completely without worry

Hardly able to sleep for being so alive

There’d be no sad good-byes no aching absence

Nothing precious lost and only laughter found

Nothing to envy, only things to admire

Nothing to horde, plenty to share

Laughs and giggles
If only I had my way

A Poem for my Teachers

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Rarely did we ever come back

to say thank you,

almost never.

We were busy.

Oh they made speeches to you,

mostly other teachers or administrators.

They told you of the difference you made.

The difference you made?

Miss Mabel,

Mrs. Shumaker,

Mr. McDaniel.

The difference you say?

You noticed me.

You told me I was special.

You sat me in the highest chair,

quietly without fanfare

without anyone ever knowing,

except for me

too many years later.

You picked me up and

set me on my feet.

And so I say to some teacher who may

wander into this poem,

some other child’s teacher.

 

I cannot say thank you to

Miss Mabel,

Mrs. Shumaker,

Mr. McDaniel,

so I will thank you.

 

You may not see

but flowers are blooming

at your feet.

 

Thank You Teacher.

 

Thank You Teacher Poem Copyright 2012 David Michael Jackson

First Edition

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The Jacksons just posted some cool covered bridge pictures

A night at Rocketown
Laura Longon is great with a concert All That and a Bag of Chips
Here is a short story from Passenger Creek,  How Johnson Got Out of the War
Here is our friend and much published writer Seymour Shubin with The Bet
Every site needs a Love Directory so here is Love Songs and Poems
Okay another song/poem Darling Do You Love Me
Here is an excerpt of a poem by Janet Kuypers with a reading by Oz Hardwick. The poem is Escaping Every Cage
Here is book review of Witness to Myself
Elisha Porat returns with Waiting For His Return

Oh my goodness my Granny said Oh My goodness what have you done with Jake and Haystack and Elisha Porat and David Michael Jackson and Janet Kuypers. Have ya’ll gone completely crazy around here. You used to be such a quiet little place!
Who is Modern Music Nashville? They are a thin flow of water from a tiny spring somewhere.
Yeah we’re country boys  but we  also love Chicago poetry folks. These play button are contageous. Read and hear our own Janet Kuypers Made any Difference?
Ya know? Sometimes it’s The Trouble with Loving You but We’ll Make it Through Hard Times

Lately I have been publishing lyrics from my songs as poems. Lyrics tend to repeat phrases people ask for in search engines.  Some poems go viral. Some mp3 recordings tend to go a little viral too. Here is a new rhyming poem derived from our most  viral downloaded recording, Baby I Really Love and Need You. by Jake and Haystack
Here is A Poet’s Solstice by David Mitchell


Here is David Mitchell with Often in the Fog
Oh yes a Whiskey Poem
There are love poems and then there is Love Runs the World
Seymour Shubin brings us his first story at Artvilla, The Viewing
Phil Coyote returns with Greed or Need
It’s just me with Show Me
Hey somebody really cool showed up. We welcome Seymour Shubin with Joel. I think we have something here. Looking for more poems from Mr. Shubin, yesseree by cracky.
Enough with this droopy sloopy gooey sadness. No one is there anyway. I publish to the void and the bots. Don’t tap on the glass. There is no one out there. Only aliens reading this a million years from now in a distant galaxy.  Lyric is good to go  Too Late For Sleeping  Melody is pretty too. It’s a song about love, my alien friends . An emotion we humans had before we blew ourselves up. Off to the studio.
A poem called Earthen Jar.
12,000 files later I re-announce  the first poem  published on this site in 1996.. This poem owes a poetic debt to poets T S Eliot,”Do I dare to eat a peach” and to William Carlos Williams’ poem about the old lady eating the plums. He said :
They taste good to her
They taste good to her

Ah Summer Breeze always brings lovely wisdom I do not have. Here is Crazy Old Lady