—Poems by James Lee Jobe, Davis, CA
—Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
—Photos Courtesy of James Lee Jobe
Open the gate. Let the cows roam,
Following their own free will.
Open the door. Let the children play
However they wish to play.
If the house and the grounds are both silent,
Shape your cool tongue into a bright flower.
Perhaps a camellia, fat and full,
Bursting with life. Lick the silence clean.
Move through your silence
Like you might move through an entire life,
If only you could. Do this without shame.
______________________
I built this life, but no matter. You built yours, too; we all do. And we live together on this spinning earth under a star billions of years old, perhaps older than god. And the other stars? They are so old that by the time their light reaches us they don't even exist anymore. and when I pray, and when I meditate there is only my soul and my breath. I leave the ages for someone else to define.
Night, the shark with teeth of steel
And a hunger for sweet flesh.
Night, the great starry ocean in the sky.
Like the word of the liar
And the praise of the misbegotten.
Night, the sword of darkness,
Cutting through all dreams,
Cutting through life
Like a hot knife through soft butter.
Like the sound of death.
Like the smell of new life.
Night, the womb of the hairy mother.
What do I have that can possibly face
The endlessness of you?
A mother and father with their own child on a leash. Dirty windows on an old house in disrepair. A fallow field. The creek, as muddy as my life, widens across a flat lowland, and my life widens as well. Daily, from this creek, I emerge.
Things fall apart. Indeed,
Hard things happen quite randomly.
What was once an ocean becomes a desert,
Flat and true.
Earthquakes move the plates of the earth
To the dismay of buildings and bridges.
The sky can strike you with lightning, wind, or hail.
Tread your path with care, friend,
And watch out for the good things that happen, too.
The flutter of a hummingbird.
The friendly nuzzle of a pup.
In the morning the light comes for us, no matter how desperate we were in the darkness of night. Even this valley has some measure of cheer when the light of a new day drapes us in warmth. How lovely, that fresh pale light. The sky, so immense, reaches from the floor of the valley to the sun. To the stars. Or so it seems. Who are we? What is that we think we know?
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Passing clouds cover and uncover the moon, all night long their shadows move across the trimmed grass. Oh, I am so empty.
—James Lee Jobe
__________________
Good morning and good poetry from James Lee Jobe on this Saturday in December, and our thanks to him for that. James will host The Other Voice in Davis next Friday, Dec. 20, for an all-open mic beginning at 7:30pm at the Unitarian Universalist Church on Patwin Rd. Bring new socks, any size, for the Interfaith Rotating Winter Shelter in Davis.
Today, stop by Sac. Poetry Center in Sacramento, where the SPC Gallery will present “Global Sisterhood”, a new art display by Women’s Wisdom Art, from 2-8:30pm. This open house will feature an art project for all ages (2-4pm), a reading (4:30-6pm), and wine and other refreshments from 6-8:30pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
—Medusa, celebrating the clouds that cover and uncover the moon ~
—Anonymous
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