Summertime Yearning

Summertime Yearning
By: James Dubeau

I would love to have a bright day
Full of sunshiny goodness
Warmth radiating from the sky
Keeping me warm
As I lay on the front lawn
Grass prickling my skin
Not a cloud in the sky
Or a care in the world
But here I am
Shivering inside my home
Illness striking me down
As winter rain pours outside
Only a matter of time
Until roads become pure ice
When the sun sets
And darkness falls

Be Gone Devil Plague

Be Gone Devil Plague
By: James Dubeau

Be gone devil plague
Your wrath has laid me right out
Only haikus stay

In other words, I’m sick. So sick that on Monday I didn’t have the strength or motivation to go online. Yes I do use a laptop and yes it was within arms reach of my bed. That is just how sick I was. Things are on the upswing now, but I am in no shape to come up with anything creative for today’s post. Thank you for visiting and I hope this haiku is sufficient for your enjoyment.

Blurry Eyed

Blurry Eyed
By: James Dubeau

Wake up early
A time zone away
Body only needs
One thing today
Blurry eyed
Down the hall
Take the elevator
Three floors below
Crank it up
Focus on the screen
Legs are churning
Sweat starts poring
Before to long
On rubbery limbs
Reverse the trek
Up the elevator
Key in the door
Push it wide
Weary eyes go wide
In shock and terror
As flesh flashes by
To leap into the shower
Head shacking in disbelief
Father
Get some clothes on

Sky Sheep

Sky Sheep
By: James Dubeau

Head in the clouds
Lost in the crowd
Not paying attention
To where they are
To where they are going
Signs are not enough
Never read by the sheep
As they pass through
Men and women stand
Paid to watch
Watch and direct
Without these guides
These observers of the skies
Sheep would not know
What to do
Where to go
They will only bunch up
And not move anywhere

Bones In Hand

Bones In Hand
By James Dubeau

Here I sit
Bones in hand
Fortunes to be told

Will they be favorable
Or disapproving
Only a roll will tell

Shake of the fist
Flick of the wrist
Bones scatter about

One says positive
The other not so well
Results I can live with

Bones tell of actions
Confirming or denying
Living by their rules

Hope

Hope
By: James Dubeau

Cold
Dark
Damp
Falling around me
Crushing with despair
Through the fingertips
Of my compressing cage
A pinprick of light
Then another
And another
Jagged lines form
Cracks link the lights
Growing as the ceiling collapses
Shattering the cage shell
Will there be enough time
Before the ceiling falls
To escape this prison
Only one thing remains
Hope

Electrical Excitement

Electrical Excitement
By: James Dubeau

My fingers reach out
Softly caressing
Thumb pressing down gently
Before jumping from electrical excitement
Finding the right buttons to push
Holding down firmly
Fighting the resistance
My mind counts out
Three…
Two…
One…
Waiting for the right moment
A silken purr reaches my ears
I devilishly grin
You are mine
Mine to caress
Mine to control
As long as you purr
We will be together

Murdered Mister

Murdered Mister
By: James Dubeau

I picked up the pistol from where it sat next to the poor sucker that lay at my feet. His blood turned a deep brown as it hardened in the rug. Gunpowder wafted from the barrel of the .45, this gun had been fired recently. It had to be the murder weapon. The girl was right; someone was after her secret caller.

I contacted the girl before calling the police. She was heartbroken; sobbing tears rang out over the phone. Her young heart would rebound. They always do.

“What happened?” She choked out between sobs.

“Shot, .45 to the gut,” I calmly replied. Her sobs doubled, but the bluntness was necessary. “Did he have any enemies?” I repeated the question that I had asked her earlier this afternoon in my office.

“Yes… No… I don’t know.”

“Give me a straight answer!” I growled. “Did he or did he not have any enemies? The police are on their way and I can just as easily send them in your direction. They would be more than happy to pull you in for questioning, if you would rather do it that way.”

“He… He told me she left him.” It was all the girl could do to control the sobbing enough to squeeze out a satisfying reply. “That bitch wanted nothing to do with him anymore.”

“I’m coming to see you. Don’t go anywhere,” I rattled off, slamming down the phone before she could reply. There was something that she was not telling me. Something that I will have to pry out of her in person.

Muscles Scream In Pain

Muscles Scream In Pain
By: James Dubeau

Just starting out
Muscles scream in pain
It is to far to go
The long path lay
Stretching out
One foot after another
One step at a time
A quarter of the way done
Muscles start to loosen up
The path does not seem to far
One foot after another
Moving easy now
Halfway finished
Halfway to go
Sweat pouring
Dripping down
Flying about as
Three quarters finished
Muscles scream in pain
Just a little bit further
Just a little bit longer
Only thing that keeps feet moving
Is knowing that the end is near
At the end
Legs are weak
But it is all worth it
In the end
Or at least it will be
In a few months time

How Does It Feel

How Does It Feel
By James Dubeau

How does it feel
When the pain goes away
Is there an absence
A void which can never be filled
Or is the emptiness replaced
With fear, desperation, insecurity
Or just loneliness
How does it feel
To be able to fall asleep when tired
Not having to wait for exhaustion
Or to lay in the fetal position
Shivering and weeping under the blankets
Without sweat soaking nightmares
How does it feel
With cold hard steel pressed against skin
Held tight to the temple
Rattling metal in shaky hands
Will the heart race beyond control
Or just flutter on as normal
How does it feel
When the bullet pierces flesh
Smashing bone and brain
Leaving shards imbedded in the wall
Dripping with fresh wet gore
How does it feel

Old Oak Tree

Old Oak Tree
By: James Dubeau

Dawn’s early morning light
Twinkling specks amongst the darkness
Fade with the rising sun
The great orange ball hangs low
Impressing all that see it
Alone in the field
Stands a tall oak tree
His trunk wide with age
Leafy branches covering the tree
As the sun lights the field
A dark path emerges through the grass
Shadow elongated
From the wise old oak tree
Morning turns to noon
Sun raises high in the sky
Shadows shorten
Reducing to nothing
A leaf breaks free
Falling slowly to earth
Followed by another
And another
Cool crisp wind
Breaks several free
Fall is coming
Noon slowly turns to evening
Shadows reemerge from the tree
Heading in the opposite direction as before
Branches thin as leaves fall to the wayside
Leaving behind only a fatted trunk
Wisdom leaves with the falling leaves
Twinkling speaks return
As evening turns to night
Horizon gradually covers the falling sun
The old oak tree stands alone

Across the Crisp White Snow

Across the Crisp White Snow
By: James Dubeau

Across the crisp white snow
A thin black trail leads the way
Down a familiar path
One which I have been down before
Where I shall return again
If the fates do wish to smile
Upon me on this day
For as it seems the way it is
That I shall never end this trek
The trail is long and I am tired
Only colored splotches seem to urge me on
Sprouting up from my footsteps
No longer is this enough
As the naked tree beckons me
Wanting me to rest upon her trunk
Curled up under the leafless limbs
Letting the sun fall behind the hills
Where the trail dares to lead
Off into the distance