Friday, September 14, 2012


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
That dull ache
Just before hangover
So one just sits
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

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
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
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
And sleep