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I learned to love a beard.

Shaving my face. Everyday. SlowAnd tedious. Exact, precise.And from the open windowComes those tastes of the world.Winds. Trees. The smell of rain.Time passes like peeling an onion,One era of life after another.I learned to love a beard.I learned to go out into the worldAs the man that I am.-Jobe19 September 2020oktu “To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.”
–Pablo Neruda"The body weeps the tears the eyes never shed."
-Robert Bly"You do not know just what you've been forgiven."
-Anna Akhmatova Teaching Poetry Online; Resources for teaching and learning remotely, for all levels.Harryette Mullen: “Elliptical,” When polite prejudice makes for scathing satire.ESSAY: A Rascuache Prayer, Reflections on Juan Felipe Herrera, my homeboy laureate. Please support this blog! CLICK HERE FOR MY PATREON PATRONS PAGE. Even a dollar a week adds up! This blog has no other income.Thanks,
Recent posts

The blessing of first light

A new sunrise, new hope. The blessing of first light comes in soft and easy over the bottom rim of the black sky, real pretty, and it gives you the feeling that this day will have some goodness to it. Of course, that’s all in your head. Whatever goodness is to be, or isn’t to be, comes from what you do, not what you see. Still, it is lovely, and there is some hope for goodness to be found in beauty. Perhaps it’s best just to enjoy the sunrise as it comes to you.-JobeA blank sheet of paper
Is like a lonely child.
Speak to her, say anything,
But let her know you are there.-Jobe

"Reality's all you've got. But here's the real secret, the real miracle: it's enough." -Brad Warner"We are dealing with the best-educated generation in history. But they've got a brain dressed up with nowhere to go." -Dr. Timothy Leary"When we focus less on dodging imaginary punishments and more on planting seeds for the future with our beneficial thoughts and actions, we …

Poems from The Rag And Bone Shop Of The Heart, an anthology. Read by Jobe.

The poor remain hungry, the homeless sleep outside.

California. The Sacramento Valley. I have Yolo County in my bones, and Davis town is in my blood. I planted deep roots here, a family and a home, and the years spent working, planting, and growing connect me to this place. Does it belong to me? No, more like I belong to it. Flora and fauna worthy of love. People, too. A love day in July, today. Would you like some peaches? The tree out back has had such a fine season.-Jobe
I don’t drink, but maybe I should have some whiskey.The war goes on, nothing changes.The poor remain hungry, the homeless sleep outside.Nothing changes. Crying doesn’t help.Businesses with more money and more powerThan entire countries rape the earthLike evil soldiers raping villagers.Millions of people just don’t have any rights.This happens every single day.Maybe it’s me that should change.Bartender, single malt please, a double. After all, I don’t drink.-Jobe
"Ego is constantly attempting to acquire and apply the teachings of spirituality for its own benefit.&…

I will show you my gold.

Driving the summer backroads of Yolo County, with tiny glimpses of Putah Creek between the Valley Oaks. Tell me, wife, did you know that love could last this long?
If you will come a little closerI will show you my gold.There is a lot of it, enoughTo share with the entire world.I bet you didn’t know That I am so rich, did you?I bet you never thoughtThat I might hiding my goldOver the trail of many years,Over the highway of my entire life.You see, only now is the time right.Right now, if you just come closer,I will show my gold,A little more on each page.-Jobe ////

"Effort is more important than so-called success because effort is a real thing. What we call “success” is just the manifestation of our mind’s ability to categorize things." —Brad Warner"Kindness blesses both the person giving and the person receiving." -Jobe"I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts." -Will Rogers LINKSA Pile of Fish, a poem by Tomás Q. Morí…

Forgive yourself, forgive the people around you

Why am I a poet? My father’s face was hard and angular,
His thin lips seldom smiled, but often sneered.
And when he spoke, it was not of love. 
My mother spoke of love quite often,
Even when she slapped my face or took a belt to me. 
I noticed the silent power of the sunrise
When I was still a small boy,
How the streaks of color dressed the dark sky,
And I loved the way the winter air tightened my cheeks. 
I always knew that birds had a language all their own. And the smiling eyes of girls,
I caught on to that very early as well. 
Why am I a poet?
Because it is the only thing I know how to be.

We have to learn to forgive that which we doAnd that which we say. And I mean to forgive ourselves, Not just each other. And oh yes, a lot of what we thinkNeeds to be forgiven as well. Especially that.Forgive yourself, forgive the people around you,Then walk outside and stand in the sunlight, the moonlight.Open your heart wide and just be.-Jobe

"In the beginner's mind there are m…

My skeleton is walking under the valley oaks

Damn all liars.Am I getting old? Yes.But I am still dangerous --     I know the truthAnd I am not afraid to tell it.-Jobe 17 September 2020oktu

My skeleton is walking under the valley oaks, Half October, but the leaves still are green and firm.Autumn in the Sacramento Valley is brief and late.My bones move along through the sweet shade.The leaves will turn and fall soon enough;Perhaps the oaks are whispering among themselvesAnd I am not allowed to listen in.On skeletal feet I move on into some pines,Their green lasts all year. There is a breezeAnd from the pines comes a lovely scent.-Jobe 2018 ////

Poet Links
Ada Limón

"The truth is not always beautiful, nor beautiful words the truth." -Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
"Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things." -George Carlin
Please support this blog! CLICK HERE FOR MY PATREON PATRONS PAGE. Even a dollar a week adds up! This blog has no other income.Thank…