casual conversations
evoked then folded
amongst the personal things
stickered and stored
i've so often asked myself
is it possible to fall in love
with every woman
that you ever meet
and if so
how do you let go
and where can you find
a removal van for the mind
for the memories
of all that's left behind
stepping out to start anew
how can i cleanse
in this irish summer rain
with it's tears of a lost love
permeating through
everything i own
records and books
now boxes on a pavement
left signing an old tune
to these photographs of you
of a time
where a photograph
was so much more
than a nine second delay
but something to own
yet like these memories
time too gets overtaken
with no distance left to run
i try to hold as best i can
from the steely approach
of the oncoming removal van

The interior landscape

Here in the landscape of bushes and crippled trees
silence speaks of the final peace.
Grotesque dead trees with grey boughs stretching upward
appealing to a fairytale God:
“Give us today a new life.”
There is only one god with many names
you can't trust him to hear your whisper in the wind.
Those who do not understand this are doomed to endlessly
going to casinos or nightclubs, unable to be alone the noise drowns out the ghost of god.
Pale faces seeing a horror behind you or into a void which
is the biggest punishment is to be forgotten.
I shun not this landscape as it has been abandoned by man
can only be peaceful.

Go
as far
as often
as hard
as you can

©  2017 Jim Davis

You've moved on
You're living life
I'm still counting days
Since my heart died

the pain
the numbness
the subtle suffering

I've lost track
How many days?
I know you're gone
Never coming back

the lonesome tears
the fragrance you left on my heart
the empty beds

Just know I miss you
My wish upon stars
Sparkle of gold
Killer of my heart

*the shock of loss
the bitterness of loss
why did I lose you?

I CALCULATIONS

A bird from the window
Pecked at my papers
Lined with my scores.

Now trees are dead,
And papers are gone.
This is the computer age.

I will break it down for you.
I even made a list,
Would you like to count?

II THE LIST

1.This is the computer age              
    Of digitized proofs
       And

2.Authority attested identies,
     With participants' certificates.

3.Our own words have lost meaning

4.We are now vessels                     
With our definition stapled on screens
      And

5.Meagre salaries    
    Tagged on our foreheads.

6.We are our grades.

7.The given guidelines,
      Projects we finished overnight.
         We are the cheated test scores,

8.The printed marksheets
       From the renowned buildings.

9.We are a bunch of degrees.
      
10.We are a box of experience
     With a reciept of coffees we bought,
         We are a cv of what we did.

11.We are the said lies
        And

12.The stress calmed by mummbled slurs.

13.We are the second employee
        Shouted at.
          And

14.We are the hundredth consumer
       With company approved needs.

15.We are the salesperson with quotas to meet.

16.We are the owners
       Of a dying business,
         A pending debt.

17.We are the numerous people
        Of covered faces on the streets

18.And exposed bodies in the world wide web.

19.We are the constructed
         Digital photographs
            With deconstructed heads.
        

20.We are a bunch of numbers

21.We are a bunch of numbers

22.We are a bunch of numbers,

23.When did we become
      
24. A 0 or a 1?

People shouldn't even fit in a whole encyclopedia

And yet here,
Are you looking for a number 25?


III RESULT

Well I gave the papers to the bird,
She put it in her nest
And made it warmer.

You call me crazy
But I will always
Call myself a free bird.

Nervous,
Scared,
Frightened,
And alone.
Physical,
Emotional,
Mental,
And alone.
Exhausted,
Dying,
Destroyed,
And alone.
Frustrated,
Angry,
Tormented,
And alone.
Drowning,
Swinging,
Bleeding,
And alone.
Alone,
Alone,
Alone,
And still breathing.

There was a time,
though filled
and spent
in moments,
never days
and rarely hours,
when smiles
and warmth
existed.
A look,
or touch,
or a simple word
or sound,
was all it took
for pleasure,
brief though
it was.
Not now
no more,
some effort
is required,
to replace
the smallest
of deeds,
and all
while strength
declines.
How much
do I need
that smile,
any more?
Is it worth
the energy
spent?
I say no
and the need
has left me.
The Play
has had
its run.
Good night,
good bye,
so long.

In my frenzy
I hustle past myself,
Stackin so high
Its an 8x4,
The walls close in as
I serve the fiend.
His paranoia becomes mine,
I hear his kids wandering
If they are going to eat,
I eat their suffering
And put it in a dope house
Of brokenness.
I am everyday
Who dies with every dub,
Every friend that became
Bug eyed and sleepless,
Losing all he ever was
And any love he ever had,
Blaming the world,
I am their worlds.
All that sustains me is addiction,
Yours is the judgement
I feel as you read this.

What is this place I have
Become?
The question becomes a mirror,
The mirror becomes a ghost ,.
The ghost is a demon
That mirrors the man i see.

I dont stop.
I keep the night in the sun,
My Loks carry the night,
I serve with no sleep,
I sacrifice to serve,
More faithful than
The pain in my soul,
The soul a little boy
Lost with the days when
The boy lived by the hand
Of the sun.

A boy dies,
He lives in death as a martyr
Spreading wings of regret,
Requiem for my kids,
I serve a destruction
With an identical sun,
And a mirror is.....
I am,
I was,
Mirror mirror.