Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Feeling Awkward

Feeling Awkward
By: James Dubeau

There are times
Where you see someone
Say hi
And it seems
They are talking to you
But when you turn
And say hey
A quizzical look
Washes over them
And now
You are left
Feeling awkward
Then there are times
When you see your friend’s truck
At least you think it’s his truck
It’s blue like his
With a white top
Like his
But when you enter the bar
And order a drink
He is no where to be seen
You are left
Feeling awkward
Then there are times
When in the crowded bar
You hear your friend’s voice
Coming from the bathroom
From behind the bar
From the far side of the room
But when you look
High and low
He is not to be seen
And you are left
Feeling awkward

Monday, March 28, 2011


By: James Dubeau

All that can be done
Is being the best
That can be
For me
No more
No less

It would not
Be wise
To push ahead
Forcing changes
For that move would
Only explode
Burning shrapnel
Into my face

Just sitting still
Also does not
Constitute a wise move
Amongst my juices
Would only
Drown me

Being the best
Me that can be
Is the only option
Left to me

Friday, March 25, 2011

Too Much

Too Much
By: James Dubeau

I eat too much
I drink too much
I work too much
I spend too much
I sleep too much
I think too much
I hope too much
I cry too much
I love too much

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Evening Jazz

Evening Jazz
By: James Dubeau

Here I sit
From head to toe
In this concrete
Of a room
Auditorium really
Bits of wood
Splashed about
Seats and stage
My eyes grow heavy
From sandman’s weight
In the darkened room
Applause erupts
Dark figures
Filtering though
Taking positions
At brass and wood
Three beats
High energy jazz
Fills the void
Forcing me to life
Tapping toes
Nodding along
With the beat
Each figure stands
One by one
Jamming out solos
To thundering applause
Before I know it
All is quiet
Save for ringing ears
Once again
In the empty

Monday, March 21, 2011

Erin’s Errands

Erin’s Errands
By: James Dubeau

After class
The car is packed
Ready to leave
Headed out of town
For the week
Errands stand
In the way
A stop
At the drugstore
And one more
For posters galore
A timely departure
Can be embarked
As things tend to go
Complications arise
Delaying thought out plans
The Pharmacist is out
On a lunch break
For ten
Or more
While the posters
Weren’t quite finished
Pushing everything back
Forcing timelines
To be redrawn
That is to be expected
When Erin is out
Running Errands

Friday, March 18, 2011

Is It Just Me

Is It Just Me
By: James Dubeau

Is it just me
Or does it just suck
When you wake up
Expecting a day off
When in return
All that you get
Is one phone call
A dirty
Phone call
That asks
That on the day off
The day for relaxing
The day for production
The day for errands
That work beckons

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Food For Thought

Food For Thought
By: James Dubeau

Flag atop the pole flutters
Wind howls across the parking lot
Owl perched atop the branch
Field mice scuttle below
Under his watchful eye
When one seems slow
Easy pickings
Swooping down
Snatching up the mouse
For lunch
Or just a snack

Monday, March 14, 2011

Little Miss Pixie

Little Miss Pixie
By: James Dubeau

Little miss pixie
Flittering about my head
Pleasing me in ways
That should not be
Bringing me things
That should not be had
Buzzing about
Amusing me
Annoying me

Why is it
When you are
No where to be found
I am lost

Friday, March 11, 2011


By: James Dubeau

The heart must journey
Up narrow routes
Navigating twisting turns
Over the mountains of life
At any moment
Boulders could tumble
Or ground falls out
Killing on the spot
The trek never goes
As it was hoped
Through these treacherous lands
But in the end
The hike
Is well worth
The pain and torment

Wednesday, March 09, 2011


By: James Dubeau

You are nothing
But excuses
And complaints
Can’t do what it takes
To be happy
Hold you back
Do not listen
To those voices
Silently murmuring
In the back of your head
They only plant excuses
Which are nothing
But reasons
You don’t want to hear
Be your own person
Do the brave thing
Dream big
And reach for it
For if you do
And if I know you
Like I do
You will be
A star

Monday, March 07, 2011

Line In The Sand

Line In The Sand
By: James Dubeau

Line in the sand
Can’t be crossed
Shouldn’t be crossed
By these heavy feet

Line in the sand
Marks where daemons roam
Free to play
Upon wicked ways

Line in the sand
On up ahead
Just beyond
Where salvation lies

Line in the sand
Thin red trickle
Slowly flowing
Dripping across dunes

Line in the sand
Crosses under
Circling buzzards
Cawing for me

Line in the sand
Leads me to
My comrades
Rotting corpses

Line in the sand
Pools blood at
My good friend’s
Outstretched palm

Line in the sand
Ended here
With these good men
And so will I

Friday, March 04, 2011

When I Knew Him

When I Knew Him
By: James Dubeau

When I knew him
We were both
Young men
Children really
Going though
The simple woes
That all do
At that age
As the years passed
We grew apart
As always happens
I deserted my friends
Left for college
When that failed
And I returned
I did not seek
Those friends
Which were left behind
As the sands of time
Buried them away
For a decade
Or so
But as the wind blows
Sand to obscure
Wind also blows
Sand to reveal
Those lost friends
Are returning to me
One by one
In unexpected ways
When a hand extends
From the depths of sand
That might be
The only chance
I have to grab a hold
Bringing them back
Into my life
That one chance
Is what I had
With him
Instead of reaching out
Grabbing his hand
I let him slip under
Now he is gone
For good
And I can no longer
Speak to him
And say
We are still friends

Thursday, March 03, 2011

I Don't Know

I Don’t Know
By: James Dubeau

I don’t know
What to say
What to think
When I look into your eyes
In bygone pictures
Of bygone times
All that I can do
Is kick myself
For not saying hi
When I heard you were in town
When I heard about the cancer
When I heard the end was near
Why did I not
Make that one
After that decade
Was it fear
Was it denial
All that I can do now
Is hope
And pray
That you are looking
Down from above
Over all the outpouring
From friends
And family
Those near and dear
As well as those
Who stood
At arms length

Wednesday, March 02, 2011


By: James Dubeau

It had all started
Like any other day
Full of work
And arguments
With the boss-man

So I took a moment
To be by myself
Cooling my heels
Away from there

And there she was
Questioning me
Questioning my right
Just to be there

Hanging on out
Under the slide
Near some swings
Kicking the rubber-chips

From that first moment
When I first saw her
My first look was locked
My first breath was stolen

Somehow words had found me
Explaining my day
And terrible ways
That left me on that playground

She humored me
And we got along
Conversing for hours upon hours
Until the sun hung low

Eventually it was time
To be on my way
So with a nod and a wink
I asked for her name

And what she had written
Upon my notepad
Could not be deciphered
Not by this old lad

Mixed in the scribbles
Appeared to be
Three different Qs
Not a name to me

My name is Robin
She said with a smile
I can see that
We laughed for a while

Want to have dinner
Tonight with me
She had asked

Tonight is spaghetti
Topped with meatballs
Dine with me
And the family

I nodded
And followed
And smiled
And loved