Poet and Rexroth
—Poems by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
—Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
The crop is in.
Pick an ear of corn and open it.
Inside is everything of the world
And of life and happiness.
Sunshine and rain and earth.
Honest sweat from honest work.
Faith that the work will hold us
On into the Fall and the Winter.
Good solid nourishing food
For the family or the customers.
And if all goes well, some profit,
A little income. And that’s a lot
To ask from a single ear of corn.
Poet as Dinner Cook
The winds
Passing up this valley
Come from the ocean
Far away.
The blow of nature
Across the flat earth.
Twilight as I write this,
And through the window
I can see the pine tree tops
Waving hello to me again.
Is it windy enough for you, James?
Poet's Art Journal
The world doesn’t think about me.
And I prefer it that way.
If anyone needs me, I am not hard to find;
Just go into the village and look.
Look in the place of lost moments
And forgotten sounds,
And if, upon finding me,
You find a pile of torn-up papers,
Just glue me back together again
And pretend that I am whole.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
I know these things quite well,
Although it is quite easy for me
To forget this nonsense.
I am not important,
And the world is not important,
In fact, I fell asleep twice
While writing this down.
Poet's Self-Decorated Tote Bag
Just give up.
The only thing that can save you
Is to not be saved at all.
Nothing can save you.
Nothing will save you.
There is no truly holy book
Or greater being or Heaven.
There is no Hell,
No lesson other than to
Accept the great nothing.
Can you figure out my poem?
Salvation is an illusion
Dreamed up in your mind.
Sit down and shut up
For a couple of hours a day.
One hour in the morning,
And another hour at night.
Nothing. Emptiness. Peace.
Beloved Granddaughter, Khaleesi,
Mother of Dragons
Now it is here, a time of balance.
My life and my spirit.
What I believe and what I do.
How I live as a man.
There is a balance now
That was missing for so long.
I am warmed by the sun
And the sun is loved by me.
Growing old isn’t bad at all.
Dharma Lessons
“Walk softly and carry a big stick.”
—An American President said that.
As leaders go, he was quick to violence;
This isn’t advice I admire.
May we walk softly and carry water to the thirsty,
Walk softly and carry food to the hungry.
May our footprints be so gentle
That we leave no mark upon the Earth.
May that which we carry, in truth,
Be kindness. Simple human kindness.
_________________
Today’s LittleNip:
May we simply refuse to compete
And begin to share.
—James Lee Jobe
_________________
Thank you, James Lee, for today’s fine poetry and photos!
Today from 2-4pm, Poetic License poetry read-around will meet in Placerville in the Sr. Center lobby on Spring Street. The suggested topic for this month is “Scotland”, but other subjects also welcome. 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.
And Gail Entrekin writes that the newest issue of Canary Literary Journal is available at canarylitmag.org/.
—Medusa
Buddha in the Rainforest
—Anonymous Photo
(Celebrate poetry!)
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
