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JT Nelson Jun 2019
I was taught by a man
That smelled heavily of smoke
Of the difference of certain
Brands of cigarettes
And the place to smoke them

I don’t remember much of that lesson
As I quit over twenty years ago
Except that Lucky Strikes should
Be smoked outside... alone...
In the park.
I think I only bought one or maybe two packs of Lucky Strikes. Those filterless suckers were a tough smoke.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
I ran up the hill
To see the sunset
Only to realize
I forgot my camera

So I took a picture
With my brain
And had it enlarged
For eternity in my memory.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
We heard the screech
Then the pop
Of metal on metal
Or metal on wood
It’s hard to tell the difference
When you’re half asleep

People were running
To it and from it
People afraid that they’d
Be sent away
Away from their babies
Others stopped them and calmed them

My thumbs wrestled
With dialing 9-1-1
But I described it best I could
As quickly as I could
And as accurately as I could
Then we waited.
Traumatic situation all around tonight in our “hood” as a mom with children jumped the curb and hit a pole or tree then took off from the scene as she was afraid that she’d be deported or put in in jail or something. One by one the emergency personnel showed up and we made our way home. Lights and voices still thick behind us. Scary.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
Rounded smooth
Mostly flat
The perfect stone must fit
In hand comfortably
With index finger extended
Along the back edge
Firmly

With a step forward
And twist of the body
A side-arm sling
Low to the water
Whip and a fling
Last bit to touch the stone
Finger

The aim is out
Not up
Forward
Not down
A trajectory of perfect velocity
And angle to deflect the earth
And skip

Skip.......
Skip......
Skip.....
Skip....
Skip
Skip
Skip

A­nd then the sink
To bottom
Lost forever
After giving it’s life
To a perfect skip
Across the water leaving
Rings
Finding then skipping the perfect stone was my medium as a young artist standing in shin-deep crystal clear water in Minnesota as a child and teen. Scanning for stones through ripples. Picking, lifting, judging... skipping. Always trying to get better.... always trying for the longest skips.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
I dreamt that
The sweet corn
Was ready in the fields

Then I awoke
And realized
That it’s only June

So now I’m sadly
Disappointed that
I’ve got two months to wait.
Seriously.... bring on the sweet corn fresh from the field. Boil it up... Butter and salt... boom.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
Flashes
Rolls
Wind
Then rain

Sometimes a pain
Like the day of weddings
Picnics
Or funerals

Sometimes a joy
Like the farmer whose crops
Are withering
And soil cracks hard in sun
Writing during a rainstorm is a true joy... but my words can’t hold a flame to the true emotion that Mother Nature pours out during a good thunderstorm. All we can do is reach out and try to grab a few good words. Maybe after a thousand poems, I will finally capture my true emotions that I’m feeling right now.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
Evening light
Shining 'cross the lake
From behind me
Through still still air
Over still still water

You have so many
Great qualities
And so many friends
That adore you as you fade
Through amber and crimson hues

We don't wave goodbye
You just slip away
Gently and softly
As Nightshades take hold of the air
We'll see you tomorrow... same time.
Sunsets at the lake are the best. They present a brief moment of magic when the conditions are right... and oh, how beautiful when they are right.
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