David Michael Jackson

Right Like It Is

by

Right Like it Is

Buy Right Like It Is  on Google Play

Yes it is the most unnoticed album in the history of albums. Too bad the guys only did one album because these instrumentals are special.

“Dreamy new age guitar noodlings go with rainy days and cafes better than umbrellas and lattes.”
……Nick Dedina Listen.com

 

Thanks Nick but a lot of good it did. This is one of my albums. It’s one of those to throw against the wall in my angst.  You know, one of those times where you really thought the world should beat its way to the door but that’s not how it ends. Time just goes by and so many albums are lost because they were published. All most hear, or will ever hear are clips. Putting it up for sale is very much like hiding the candle until someone pays to see the light. If no one ever pays, then no one ever sees the light.

It  “don’t matter anyway”. I’m singing in the wilderness of a billion websites. Here I’ll knock down this tree, see if it makes a sound. Ain’t nobody out there but them chickens and they’s eatin’ corn. Quit whining and get back to work, Jackson.

 

Right Like it Is Concert

 

There were times when

cliche wasn’t necessary when

the music flowed like a

winter stream

through the snow,

like water flowing over rocks

in a tiny nook

near a spring.

There are times when

the air vibrates and

times when it does not

silence is golden

only because the

bird sings.

 

david michael jackson     july 16, 2012   editors@artvilla.com    send Gandhi

Them Rebs That Gold Poem

by

Music by Andy Derryberrry

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 Chicken House Gazette

by

My cousin Ruthie and I founded the Chicken House Gazette in the chicken house. The chickens were gone by then. Somewhere in my life the chickens disappeared. We gathered paper, the kind with the wide lines, the grade school paper which had that smell of new school supplies, that once a year smell. We gathered paper. We cut articles out of magazines. We cut pictures. We glued and pasted our way to the first issue. We created two issues, one copy each. We sold out the first day, to my mother and to the neighbor Simpson across the creek.

Those were not the last issues of The Chicken House Gazette. Since those days my audience has grown slightly but I am still cutting and pasting the latest issues of my little Chicken House Gazette. My audience are still neighbors and friends across the creek which has turned into an ocean. It’s still the same small world!

Thank you neighbor.

 

 

david michael jackson   july 15,2012   editors@artvilla.com    send _____________