—Poems and Photos by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
California’s Central Valley is a giant,
twenty thousand square miles.
Long ago there was a sea here.
Today, looking up from this flat land,
I saw an egret flying past.
It was a lonely sight.
___________________
This rickety old boat drifts on a wide and slow river,
a river that bends into the blue sky.
The boat floats past the village on the far bank,
with the people and the little marketplace.
Time is nothing. The boat drifts on,
past the evergreen trees of the pine woods
and on into the white and fluffy clouds.
twenty thousand square miles.
Long ago there was a sea here.
Today, looking up from this flat land,
I saw an egret flying past.
It was a lonely sight.
___________________
This rickety old boat drifts on a wide and slow river,
a river that bends into the blue sky.
The boat floats past the village on the far bank,
with the people and the little marketplace.
Time is nothing. The boat drifts on,
past the evergreen trees of the pine woods
and on into the white and fluffy clouds.
The sunrise and the sunset don’t need us,
a fact that eludes most people.
Night comes and goes with or without us.
Life is short, and don’t kid yourself;
this life is all there is.
So take it all in; the rain, the stars, the moon.
The wind in the trees of the graveyard.
____________________
I hoard silence to use in the passing years.
I love the emptiness of this quiet room,
and I love my grief for its power.
In the shadows and in the dark corners of night
I see the face of my dead son.
His beautiful face.
Just that.
a fact that eludes most people.
Night comes and goes with or without us.
Life is short, and don’t kid yourself;
this life is all there is.
So take it all in; the rain, the stars, the moon.
The wind in the trees of the graveyard.
____________________
I hoard silence to use in the passing years.
I love the emptiness of this quiet room,
and I love my grief for its power.
In the shadows and in the dark corners of night
I see the face of my dead son.
His beautiful face.
Just that.
Poet and Pooch
More than thirty years living
in this wide valley and now
I have nothing left to ask of it.
No questions. And the valley
goes on and on.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
As sweet as blueberries, as light as bees; sunrise loves the quiet.
in this wide valley and now
I have nothing left to ask of it.
No questions. And the valley
goes on and on.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
As sweet as blueberries, as light as bees; sunrise loves the quiet.
—James Lee Jobe
__________________
Our thanks to James Lee Jobe for visiting the Kitchen today on this, the beginning of Chinese New Year, the Year of the Rabbit. See more of James at The Poetry Zendo (https://poetryzendo.blogspot.com/).
Note also that 350 Sacramento’s annual Ode to Earth Environmental Variety Show fundraiser happens this afternoon at the Colonial Theater in Sacramento. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about this and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week.
__________________
—Medusa
__________________
—Medusa
Poet and Pal
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.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
