—Poems and Photos by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
If I am to allow the wind to spread my legs
Then I must surrender a certain amount of my will to the wind.
I am not willing to do that.
If I am to trust my life to fate or to the will of a god
Then I must believe in fate or in a god that rules.
I am not willing to do that.
Lonely for the hearts of other living beings
I often go out into the world and announce myself alive.
I am through with making announcements.
To be alive is to live on the sharpest edge
Of being totally invisible.
To be alive means being awake
And not needing any illusion for guidance.
Good morning, James, it is time to wake up.
Today is my new birthday.
Happy birthday to me.
This room is a prison, no it isn't. Yes, it is.
There are no bars on the windows and no lock on the door.
I can leave whenever I wish, and though I often do,
It still feels as if years have passed locked in this cell.
A thousand books, a bed, two chairs, a desk,
A television, a computer, a stereo, a lot of music,
Paints and brushes—everything but food.
I don't need to leave often, and when I do
I am just going through the motions of being like real people,
Hiding the truth of my endless imprisonment.
Why do I stay? The ghost of my life tells me so.
It is my own ghost that whispers to me,
"Stay. You are nothing; no life for you!"
So I return to the desk. And I stay.
The bracing winter wind,
The smell of wet earth;
We are the earth.
We are the universe,
The universe is us.
After a rain the air cleared up so sharp
That from this valley one could see perfectly
The Sierra Nevada Mountains far to the east.
Much farther east it's war; in Afghanistan, Syria,
American bombers seek an enemy and take out a hospital,
A school, innocent deaths from imperfect missiles and bombs.
Mokelumne Peak is snow-capped and beautiful.
Looking at it from the valley, one is hard-pressed
To think of a faraway war now 16 years long.
But the dead know the truth.
Lovely, this ocean,
but there's eels in there, you know.
(Said while walking off.)
The raccoon eats the cat food I set out on the patio,
And the cat just watches.
She doesn't seem all that interested;
It’s more like she doesn't have anything else to do right now,
Or anywhere else that she needs to be.
So she watches.
The raccoon crunches away,
And 238,900 miles away, the moon shines down
On this scene like a golden balloon.
Sober under a full moon.
Years and years have passed since I have been drunk.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
May the universe fill us all, as we fill the universe.
Everyone and everything as one. One.
—James Lee Jobe
_____________________
Thank you to James Lee Jobe for such fine poetry today, and for his photos of Yolo County! This coming Friday (8/17), 7:30pm, James will be hosting The Other Voice Poetry Series, featuring Allegra Silberstein and Carlena Wike plus open mic, Unitarian Universalist Church library, 27074 Patwin Rd., Davis. Then on Sunday (8/19), 2pm, he will host the Davis Arts Center Poetry Series featuring Barbara West and Mary Zeppa at the Davis Art Center, 1919 F St., Davis.
This evening (8/11), Sac. Poetry Center Art Gallery will present its Second Saturday Art Opening from 5-8pm, featuring Watercolors and Wax (watercolors and mixed media) by Jennifer O’Neill Pickering. Poets are invited to write an ekphrastic poem and share it at the open mic at 7:30pm. That’s at Sac. Poetry Center, 25th & R Sts., Sac. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
—Medusa
—Anonymous Photo
Celebrate the poetry of connection!
Celebrate the poetry of connection!
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