Death’s Hand

Death’s Hand
By: James Dubeau

I can feel
Death’s boney finger
Hovering high above
Waiting
To grasp me
To pull me under
Joining those
Who have gone before
My heavy eyes
Accept the fate
He has in store
I could fight
To stay awake
To take matters
Into my own hands
But I am weak
Exhausted
The fight gone
From these old bones
I let darkness
Wash over me
And the skeletal hand
Drag me under

Here I Sit

Here I Sit
By: James Dubeau

Here I sit
Waiting
For the day’s events
To come to me
Killing time
In my car
Trying to write
A poem or two
But I cannot
Not today
For
My pen is dead
Out of ink
Unable
To scribble
A line
Or two
While the radio plays
And the sun
Falls across the sky

Future – Remix

Future – Remix
By: James Dubeau

Brown sunshine
Fermentation
Will be washing
However
I can motion away
For change
Plans cannot
Need uselessness
Before time
Can pass fully
Things are
Not from waiting
This week
Not another bag
Of paper
Sitting happy
Yet idle
Glad to be loose
In which
I let the Plans
Be just

Future

Future
By: James Dubeau

Epigraph from Clint Eastwood
By: Gorillaz

I ain't happy,
I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless but
Not for long
The future is coming on

Sitting
Waiting
For time to pass
I cannot be happy
Not fully
Not yet
However
I can be glad
Things will change
Plans are in motion
Plans which need
Just another week
Of fermentation
Before this sunshine
Can be let loose
From the brown paper bag
Washing away
Idle uselessness

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
Smile
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

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
But
Errands stand
In the way
A stop
At the drugstore
And one more
For posters galore
Before
A timely departure
Can be embarked
But
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
But
That is to be expected
When Erin is out
Running Errands

Pen And Napkin

Pen And Napkin
By: James Dubeau

Here I sit
Waiting for
God know who
To show up
And all that I have
To keep myself
Entertained
Is my Pen
This napkin
And all the
Jack and Cokes
I can drink
While my money
Holds out
Good thing
This old brain
Of mine
Is easily amused
That the thought
Of putting
Ink to paper
Is all that I need
To keep me going
On this night
Any other person
Would have gone
Insane
With the dancing
And the music
That floods
This establishment
As the first patrons
Filter on through
One by one

Explode

Explode
By: James Dubeau

Just poured the last of this
Pot of coffee
Into my cup
Glass
Mug
As my foot taps
And leg shakes
And fingers tremble
And bladder is ready
To explode
But I cannot leave
To relieve myself
Not right now
Not until I’m finished
Writing this work
For today
I must be productive
And there is no one
In this public hive
Which I would trust
To watch
My computer
From would be thieves
Or goblins
Which like to hide
In the corner

Sea Of Subdued

Sea Of Subdued
By: James Dubeau

Red chairs
Gray tables
Beige walls
A sea of subdued
Floats on by
As I sit
Waiting
Watching
Listening
For signs of the future
A stranger passes
Looking through the doorway
I cannot speak
Move
Or even think
She is gone
In an instant
Just a flash
A presence
Barely a spec
A flash of red and tan
A floating smile
But I cannot follow
For I am trapped
Drowning
In the sea of subdued

One More Day

One More Day
By: James Dubeau

One more day
Waiting and watching
One more day
Hoping for the best
One more day
Fearing the worst
One more day
To sit in agony
One more day
Until the truths revealed
One more day
Then we shall know
One more day
Left to go
One more day

Everyone’s Waiting

Darkness crept across the sky and the first stars twinkled in the dimming light. Frank looked at his watch again as he sat on the couch. “Honey,” he hollered up the stairs behind him, “It’s getting dark out.”

“I’m just finishing up. I’ll be down in a moment.” She hollered back down to him.

Frank tossed the newspaper that he was reading aside. No matter how many times he read it things wouldn’t change. Box scores never change once you read them. The Yankees are out of the playoffs. Beat four to one by the Red Sox. A three run homer in the 8th sealed the deal. They should have put in the reliever sooner… Frank picked up the TV remote and started flipping channels.

“You better not be watching a game down there.” Frank’s wife hollered down at him. “We have to be there by eight. We don’t have time for you to get caught up in a game.”

“Yes dear,” Frank hollered back as he looked at his watch. As it stands now they will have to make the thirty minute trips in twenty minutes. With a sigh he turned down the volume and flipped to the Braves game. Maybe these guys were having a better night.