Wednesday, December 12, 2018

'There is only you, just like you thought.'

There is only you, just like you thought.
Tonight you'll slip between the shadows;
An angular space where humans seldom go.
A place where the moonlight can't find you.
No one is listening, and no one is watching,
The next move is up to you. Don't think
About tomorrow, or about how things seem.
Just be the moonlight. Be the shadows.
There is only you, nothing else, and friend,
That was all you ever really needed.


Tuesday, December 11, 2018


Filtering down through the pines
On the hilltop;
It starts like that.
A stream is born, joins other streams
And soon you have a river
Strong enough to reach the ocean.

So it is with humans, too.
Starting with a father’s orgasm,
You end up with a human
Striding across the Earth.
This human lives, loves, suffers,
And eventually dies.
It is a life.

Of course, those pine trees
Have a beginning and an end, too,
As does the earth.
There might be a drought, no rain.
A potential father turns away from his wife
And goes to sleep alone
Under the thirsty pine trees.
What do I know? Nothing.
Leave me be.
Try and learn something from silence.

James Lee Jobe
06 May 2018

11 Dec 2018

'Humans. For some of us'

Humans. For some of us
Even our masks wear masks.
A mask of a swan hidden beneath
A mask of a crow.
We think we are not not beautiful,
So we wear these things
To hide us from life.
It seldom works, yet
We do the same thing with language,
Hiding truths inside of lies
While raping the truth with lies.
There goes my father, he’s an owl,
No, he’s a laughing hyena.
Don’t believe him.
And there goes my mother, she’s a mouse,
No, she’s a dog, a poodle,
Sleeping all day on the sofa.
You can listen to her if you want,
It’s just soft snores.


Monday, December 10, 2018

'Each one forgot what the other looked like, exactly.'

Each one forgot what the other looked like, exactly.
Faces were almost there in memory, but not quite.
Blurred a bit, you know?

They walked the same streets, but not at the same time,
And not in the same manner. One walked with privilege,
The other moved from shadow to shadow.

In America, you can love other, even marry,
But not be equal. The person of color
Is always second best. Unequal. Uneven.

Even the shadows on the street mistrust each other.
People separate, go their own ways. In time,
The memory will blur. But the difference remains.


'A great battle had just ended'

A great battle had just ended,
Perhaps it was in Basra.
Perhaps it was in Fallujah
Or up in the mountains in Afghanistan.
Syria. Somalia. Libya.
Many lay dead,
Soldiers from one side,
Soldiers from the other side,
Children were dead.
Also dead was hope.
Also dead were any dreams.
The dust in the air seemed dead.
From nearby came a long drum roll,
And the dead rose up,
As best they could;
Some were missing their legs,
Others were missing their heads.
The dead rose up and raised their eyes,
If they still had eyes,
To the dark night sky.
And one by one they called out for God.
But God didn't come that night.
No, not just then.


Sunday, December 9, 2018

'A fog hangs over the flat farmland'

A fog hangs over the flat farmland,
While watching through my window
I can hear the sound of geese above me.
Somehow this makes me sad again,
And so another long, slow day begins.


09 Dec 2018

'A new poem everyday.'

A new poem everyday.
I’ve done it for years now.
Discipline? Sure.
But it’s more than that, too.
Everyday I open the door
To the Diamond of the Universe.
Everyday I wade into the Pacific
Until it washes away the language
And the sounds of life.
Or I stand under the oven of the Sun
Until I ignite and flame away
Like dried paper,
Like an old dream.
I will write these poems
Until the Earth is safe,
Until the universe finishes
Its endless expansion.
Or under the Moon and Stars
Until the light fills me.
Even now the tides rises
And the light shines.
Even now the words are lining up
Like good soldiers.