Friday, November 07, 2014

My Life in Front of the Screens

My life in front of the screen
Spaces and splices, scene by scene
Supposed magic and splashes of art
Or small pocket powerhouse galaxies
Explored and watched - also called...
Or from a living room and staring ahead
Staring down, staring straight across
Well we're bored -- it's not a crime
Everyday in front of them most the time
Transfixed yet tranquil
For good or bad, the balance leans -
To our lives in front of the screens.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Ink Stained Jeans


I am proud to announce a new creative writing website. If you enjoyed the poetry and stories here then please visit www.InkStainedJeans.com

Thank you for reading.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Swirling


Swirling
By: James Dubeau

Swirling
Twirling
Spinning
Around the drain
That is a dark lament
Reaching out
Grasping
For a handhold
To pull free
Wanting something
Anything
To click
Turning brass gears
Latch into place
And embrace
While taken for a ride
Across the cosmos
Through time and space
Into the great darkness beyond
Where lights of stars
And whole galaxies
Would only dream
To dare to tread
Background radiation
Drowns it all out
To nothing but
A pleasant
White
Noise
Choking out
A throaty scream

Monday, December 10, 2012

Single-Serving


Single-Serving
By: James Dubeau

Everywhere I go
In my tiny life
Everything must be
Single-serving strife
The coffee
The sugar
Even the cream
And when I do cook
Massive batches are made
Of chili
Stir-fry
Or even pasta
To be divvied up
Into single-serving batches
To be eaten as lunches
Over a week or three
For if I don’t
All the groceries go bad
Siting in the fridge
Waiting to be eaten
But I do like to cook
Honestly I do
And would cook even more
But it is just no fun
To be cooking for one

Friday, November 30, 2012

Dangling


Dangling
By: James Dubeau

Dangling
Just out of reach
Of outstretched arms
My fingertips almost touch
Can almost grasp
Can almost make it mine
But no matter
How I contort my body
My arms cannot stretch any further
It would not be so painful
If I never had the taste
The sweet taste
Upon my lips
Knowing I was almost there
Almost had it
Almost achieved the desire
Once
Makes the craving
All the more
Infuriating

Monday, November 26, 2012

Crossing Paths



Crossing Paths
By: James Dubeau

A few flakes of snow
Drifted past
My fogged over glasses
And frozen white breath
Greens turned yellow
Then to red
And I pushed off
Feet struggled to find traction
Upon my peddles
As my bike rolled
Across the empty crosswalk
I looked up
My vision filled
With a large symbol
Headlights
Grill
Which I once knew well
I stumbled
I peddled
I got out of the way
Movement washed cold wind
Across my face
Clearing fog and improving vision
I turned to see
The flaxen haired motorist
Who hadn’t graced my presence
Since the sun was hot
And Cajun music
Wafted through the air
Our eyes did not meet
She had turned to fiddle
With something in the back seat
The light turned green
And she was gone
But the memories of days gone by
Flooded back
And I wondered if I would ever
Grace the tavern again
To put down money
For beers and the gambling of meat

Friday, November 23, 2012

Our First Laugh


Our First Laugh
By: James Dubeau

As we sit here
On this curb
Sharing our first laugh
We are living moments
The best moments
We’ll ever have
Between you and I
This is as good as it gets
When anything is possible
No annoying habits
No hurt feelings
It’s all downhill from here
Someone will say something
Bitterness will creep in
One of us will be hurt
It’ll all become a chore
Until it is ended
And we go our separate ways
But let us not think about that
The way it always goes
Let’s live in this moment
Live it up while we can
Be happy and joyful
And enjoy this laugh
Before it turns to tears


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

So Long Space Cowboy

So Long Space Cowboy
By: James Dubeau

Single streak of white
Against the endless azure
As it turns to black
And the starry void
Above and beyond
With you was carried
More than just
2800 tons of rocket fuel
There was also
The hopes and dreams
Of every man, woman, and child
As you bounded across
That hunk of cheese
Even today
Children still dream
Of walking with you
Bouncing with each step
From the Eagle
So with a heavy heart
I must say
To you Neil Armstrong
So long
Space cowboy

Monday, November 19, 2012

Mid Fall


Mid Fall
By: James Dubeau

Footfall after footfall
Against the trail
Running across the countryside
The sun tried to cling to the sky
But slowly fell behind me
Joining leafless trees
And dead prairie grass
Upon the horizon
It is these autumn days
Same days as last year
And the year before that
Which has me wondering
About my place in this world
As I watch those blossoms
Which once had vitality
Wither and die

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Under a Sanguine Moon


Under a Sanguine Moon
By: James Dubeau

“That’ll be two fifty.” Lauren said as she grabbed a bottle of beer from behind the bar. Her short red hair was a stark contrast to the black dress and pinstriped suit coat. A single strand of pearls clung tight to her neck and added a splash of coloration to her pale complexion. She patted pockets in search of the bottle opener.

“I got it,” Jonah popped off the bottle top and pocketed the opener. His curled mustache flexed as he winked through horn rim glasses. The pink elephant on his vintage t-shirt seemed to copy the move. He had been drinking and conversing with the bartender all evening.

“You’re the last. It’s closing time.”

“Had to keep my new favorite bartender company.”

“Thank you for the conversation. It has been most appreciated on this slow night. Would you care to join me for a walk when I finish closing up?” She smiled.

“But of course.”

By the time he drained the bottle she had finished the closing duties and had dragged him into the crisp night air. Jonah walked his bike as they walked through the Monroe Street neighborhood. They soon were walking through Forest Hill cemetery. City lights were hidden behind the trees surrounding the old cemetery. A clearing at the top of a hill gave them the opportunity to gaze at the night sky in tranquility.

“I love the sanguine moon when it is bright and big and full of life.” Ruby lips exposed a broad wolfish grin.

“I’m glad you invited me along.” Jonah wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

Lauren locked him in a tight embrace as her lips met his then wandered in lustful flurry across his face and neck. Teeth grazed his flesh. She paused and looked up with large doe eyes which glowed red and mean with hunger. Vampire fangs glinted in the moonlight before sinking deep into his flesh. His blood boiled into her mouth.

Jonah screamed and struggled to free himself. He fished the bottle opener from his pocket and stabbed her side with the pointed end. She reeled in pain, letting him kick free of her embrace. Before she could swoop upon him Jonah was on his bike weaving past gravestones. As he neared the entrance the bike slammed into a gravestone, sending him tumbling from the bike, and destroying the front wheel. He was to his feet and limped into a maintenance shed before the vampire caught up to him.

“Got a little fight in you, I like that.” Lauren pounded on the shed door.

Jonah leaned against the door, bracing against her efforts. He searched for a weapon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. She over powered him, knocking the door open. Jonah snatched the first hard object his fingers touched and turned to face his attacker.

Lauren lunged into Jonah, knocking him against the wall. The pair stood face to face, their bodies pressed together. For a moment neither moved. No words were spoken. She took half a step back. A pair of hedge clippers was lodged between her ribs. She blinked once then fell to the floor.

Exhaustion overtook Jonah and he too collapsed. Lauren lay unmoving. Her large eyes had a vacant stare towards the ceiling. He turned to search for a tool to ensure the vampire’s destruction but when he turned around she was gone. Only the clippers remained where she had lay.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Unfinished


Unfinished
By: James Dubeau

What is this
What am I doing
Sitting in the coffee shop
Drinking it black
While tapping keys
Idly working on
One project
Than another
Before losing an hour
Or maybe three
Surfing the web
For this and that
Why is there no focus
Why is nothing finished
Where did it all go
When I was not looking
Did my muse run off
Taking my creativity with her
Did stresses surmount all else
Do I not want to write anymore
Or maybe my creativity never was
Leaving behind all the projects
Pending on my computer
Novel third draft only just started
Short story fourth draft halfway finished
And least of all
This poem
Is not…

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Wondering Thoughts


Wondering Thoughts
By: James Dubeau

There are those moves
Which one does make
Late at night
With a belly full of booze
When the internal editor
Is fast asleep at the switch
He could have said
Those choices would result
In nothing but sadness
And changed the course
But he cannot tonight
Not while his snores
Echo though the skull
Reverberating
That dull ache
Just before hangover
So one just sits
Lamenting
Recent decisions
As well as those
From years gone past
Thoughts and memories
Float on past
Tears well from the corners
To be brushed away
And forgotten
Seconds turn to minutes
Minutes turn to hours
Hours turn to days
Days turn to years
Slowly fading away
To be background noise
But there are those times
It all comes flooding back
Making it all fresh again
Like a knife upon the flesh
When all that remained
Was a memory
Or an idea
Of a memory
Which never was
And never will be
Again

Monday, September 10, 2012

Haggard Paladin


Haggard Paladin
By: James Dubeau

Once upon a time
My sword shined in the sun
Strong and sharp
I stood
Waiting for the dragon
To crest the hill
Ready to be slain
But now I sit
Haggard and old
Rust flaked from my sword
The edge could not cut grass
As the dragon flies
High overhead
Breathing down fire and death
Upon all I hold dear 
There is nothing that I can do
But wait
And hope
For an opening
To slay the beast
But it will never come
Before the time
Left in my soul
Melts away

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Farmer Driven


Farmer Driven
By: James Dubeau

Big green John Deere
Rolling along
The country side
Traveling paved roads
Slowing traffic behind
A line of cars
Afraid to pass
On rolling hills
Just outside of town
There was once a time
Where this scene did not happen
Before the advent of blacktop
And combustion engines
Fields were not cut up
Divvied up
By what the taxman wished
When the fields were worked
By plow pulled by horse
Or mule
Or oxen
We are all victims of his success
A nation grown fat
Bloated
On bounty filled bread baskets
Us in our automobiles
Pissed off
Him in an air conditioned king cab
Hoping seed prices
Don’t send him under

Monday, September 03, 2012

Dark Past


Dark Past
By: James Dubeau

Why does the dark past
Invoke such nightmares
Upon the soul
And set the mind
Tumbling
Through time and space
Not letting rest
Reach weary eyes
When the night runs long
Mental guards drop
Letting murky ooze
Seep though
Poisoning the mind
Sending it in spirals
Bringing back
Every detail
Every smile
Every laugh
Every thought
Every emotion
Of those days
Long ago
Tearing tenuously healed wounds
Open and raw
Fresh searing pain
Which can only be cured
With more time
Whiskey
And sleep