DEEP DIVING



At Night I Fly
Dedicated to Barney Rosset

I go where the wind hides
When it's not blowing.

I watch the clouds gobble
Up the moon.
I see my thoughts, my feelings,
My love crash
Like seas on ships.

I stand on top of swords and spears.
I walk up on endless staircases and mountains
On the tips of giant nails
Drinking spirits out of huge goblets.

My heart pounds against no chest.
I know not what to tell it
Crowded in solitudes.
Too many souls alone to be
One body.

The moon's a defaced minted silver dollar.
It sleeps alone in its own universe.
No longer a star.

Today I died.
I died yesterday and tomorrow.
At night I fly.

© Spoon Jackson
 
Remember


When I walk or fly
out of this place
no one will remember
how the birds came to me
as friends and shared bread

No one will remember
how I planted a garden
of flowers and spices
in a space where growth
is prohibited

No one will remember
the Shakespeare and my poems
I read in hostile classes

I should have known
that once the trees
were all chopped down
like unarmed soldiers
I would be transferred.

©2011 Spoon Jackson
 
Long Sunset 
(for Tory in New York 2002)

Art withers without fellowship“

Poetry day in visiting
a jam session, first one ever
Poet Tory is here from
New York and Ann from the Bay

We recited poetry by the micro
and folks listened
we hummed poetry at the table
and still others listened

we played poetry dominoes
and Uno were the winner
recites a poem

The desert, the Bay, The Big Apple
street wise, heart holding
fast hitting, race car, concrete
stomping poetry

Balanced against a dark desert night
full of stars and moons
the New York poet longs to see
she tells me of the winds
in New York, funneled between
buildings the size of mountains

How the long shadows darken
and shorten the day
The Bay poet shows pictures
and speaks of the forest
both telling me of children
never to get old

Poetry slamming off the walls
off the bars, the vending machines
off the cards, tables and chairs
off the grass and dusty skies

Poetry slamming free, bold and cold
one way in and many ways out
I hope you get to see the stars
and long, sunsets you spoke of
or was it long skies?

© Spoon Jackson

Cave

Standing in this cave
looking out this crack
Of a window

Hoping there will be
an angle
A path for the sun
to blink in through
the tiny slit
in this hulk of stone

This place where
they do not believe in trees
as though they're evil
spirits

There are none here
no bluebirds singing
no crickets fiddling
only unnecessary chatter
Nothing

Even the sky's diluted
by illusions of power
The wind carries the sounds
that are refused to be
heard

The whips and whispers
of the night
cannot understand this
apathy against trees

I long to go
to a rich flowing meadow
where flowers bloom
with retribution

Stricken

I remember that Sunday morning tune
you snapping, snap beans for dinner
while Rock Doves cooed in the oak trees
I thought you were the strongest person ever
I thought you were an ancient redwood 
protected by a loving light from some heaven.
My mother, I knew you would live forever
like those goddesses and Mothers of Ethiopian,
Greek, Roman, Asian and Indian tales.
I thought you were immortal like love
indestructible by time and pain.
Then I came to prison even after
you told me not to carry that knife
that held my fate.
My brother Abe told me tales of how some
disease with sugar ruthlessly consumed your body.
He told me something called a stroke
had stricken you twice and laid
you helpless and bedridden for years.
How you could not speak anymore
how the goddess mother you are had left.
How life before everlasting and eternity
is a cruel snake wrapping about the throat.
Heaven must have been that morning
on the porch beside my mother as she
snapped, snap beans
© Spoon Jackson
  
Realness Goddess

I think of you and long
to see you –
your smiles and belly laugh
shakes up the sky
and the sun shines brighter
just to touch your skin

When you whisper
the forest stands still
the owls lean their ears
the mountains and clouds
share a warm kiss

The sea and shores
become lovers
while the beaches long
to lathe your toes

Earth Mother spins
proud
when she thinks of you

© Spoon Jackson


Saga

She spoke to me 
in Swedish
sweet chopping mellifluous words

I sat there wide eyed
and open eared
and listened
I didn’t have the faintest
idea what she said
but it filled my heart
with bird song

© Spoon Jackson


Sweet delights

He sat there until
he was nothing
drifting like air
until he was everything
a part of the whole
a whole of the part

He sat there past
the dawn of stars
He wanted to go
where peace hangs out
like a welcome home sign

Where silence is not
looked upon as mental illness
He wondered when poets 
like pop rap or rock stars
have sweet delights
thrown at them on stage

© Spoon Jackson

Hope

I´ll be released one day
By a beautiful real life
Or a beautiful real death
At the time dwelling in fear
That my own death could be near

Hope touched my heart deeply
And released me from my fear
She gave me joy
She gave me peace
Never to give up
Even in death
Even in life
Hope touched my mind
Freed me to see

Even when you are
Not in my conscious mind
One way or another
I am released
From my fear
And the simple things
Of life come clear

You help me stand
Above the strife
Hand in hand we soar
You give me life
You give me joy
You give me peace
Never to give up

At the time dwelling in fear
That my own death
Could be near
She calms my soul
And releases me
And links me to Mother Earth
By a beautiful real life
Or a beautiful real death

© Spoon Jackson 2008


No Beauty in Cellbars

Restless, unable to sleep
Keys, bars, guns being racked
Year after year
Endless echoes
of steel kissing steel

Noise
Constant yelling
Nothing said
Vegetating faces, lost faces
dusted faces.

A lifer
A dreamer
Tomorrow's a dream
Yesterday's a memory
Both a passing of a cloud

How I long
for the silence of a raindrop
falling gently to earth
The magnificence of a rose
blooming in it's many hues of color
The brilliance of a rainbow
when it sweetly lihgts up the sky
after a pouring rainfall

Picnics in a rich green meadow
We saw the beauty in butterflies
we made them our symbol
Tiny grands of sand
One hour glass
A tear that may engender
a waterfall

The memories
the dreams
are now
Love is now

There's no beauty in cellbars

© Spoon Jackson 

Beauty in cell bars
 
We lock ourselves up
not because of the bars and
steel that surround us
not because life doesn't bend
to our every whim

But because of the projections
we place onto our worlds
The judgements, the I can'ts
The trying to please everyone
while not pleasing ourselves

By seeking the beauty on the outside
that is surely within
For prisons are created internally
and are found everywhere

We allow unnatural and unreal thoughts
to be our walls,our limits
Because of the dam we build to
stop the universal love, the light

It's all within ourselves
this paradise you go to of beauty
and love
There's peace, where along with the
eagle you may sore
A place inside that was inspired
from the inner and above
which are one and the same

The world may not bend to
your every whim
But, it will flow wherever you
want it to go,
where it's supposed to go
There's beauty in cellbars

© Spoon Jackson


Nothing will be decided
 
Nothing will change despite
the state of flux
the world purports to be in.
The suicides and great depression
of souls
will continue to take its toll.
 
Nothing will change
how the churches preach
community
but practice disunity.
 
The small farmers who live tight
with Mother Earth will die out
while the big farmers will live smug
with chemicals and carelessness
 
Nothing will change
how the poor and meek will be shoved
aside like grains of sand
 
For villas, golf courses, bomb sites
and private wars
the government will pretend to be
stuck in limbo yet, quell and kill
protestors
 
Nothing will change how some governments
will boast of colonizing space
not knowing the universe will have
none of that
when you cannot even colonize the space
in your heart and soul with peace,
love and realness.
 
Nothing will change how like putting
batteries in a flash light
will be the only time you shine.

© Spoon Jackson


Sweet sorrow
 

When sorrows come
they come not as a single spies
but in battalions.

This year I am constantly
embracing sorrows
and then letting them go
I am inviting sunshine in
and there are endless seeds
planted ready to grow

But so far this year more
sorrows come, some sweet, some bitter

I'll keep being real
I'll keep being love

I'll keep being real
beyond labels and names
I'll keep being love
beyond the sorrows, pain and heartache
I'll keep being real
beyond hate.

Still I wonder; how much sorrow
can I take.

© Spoon Jackson 2010


Mountain

Yes, you are a mountain, divine
strong, majestic, deep and free
always reaching and growing

You rise above and through
it all,
your love, wisdom and beauty
keeps you tall

Mother Earth places silver
clouds around your crest
A protective light blessed
by Mother Moon.

no you will never fall
into the sea
and crumble at anyones knees
your visions, your deepest pain
and sorrows transformed
into art and truth

you are a mountain,
mountain of love, light
and wild freedom
your once abandoned meadows
have blossomed into lush valleys
of truth and growth

The bitterest fruit turned sweet
in your presence. And you
have always been a mountain, divine
majestic and free even when
you did not know it.

© Spoon Jackson 2010


Nothing to Prove

no power outside myself
could get inside me
unless I open a door or window

my battle has always
been self imposed from within

I am me enough now
and free enough now
to let the light pour
in like a strong sea breeze
and I have nothing
to prove
all I´ve got now is truth
A truth that trumps
any fears
to be anybody or anything
I am not.

© Spoon Jackson 2010

Passion

She sits by the window
spilling her light
down dark streets

Passion, she gives her
all, without judgement
she lets go to hold
on tight

Passion, she gives her all, to all
but is possessed by
none
she sits in the sky
like Diana, a full moon


© Spoon Jackson


 



1 comment:

  1. I only had time to read a couple of poems; wonderful. I will bookmark this page and come back soon. Spoon, I did 4 years and found I can write poetry in prison just the same as you. Funny, I read on your blog you want to go to a meadow to see the flowers. That's what I wanted to do and have done since I left prison; I longed to see the sea and a wide open sky. I sometimes miss the raw beauty of prison, there was so much to write about in there that is missing out here. I am also a photographer. I can send you some photo's of the sea and the sky if you like. If your people contact me on FaceBook, my name; Jamie Gibbons (Twisted Existence) or my e-mail; freedomrhymer@gmail.com. Take care friend...Jamie....

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