As Time Ticks By

As Time Ticks By
By: James Dubeau

Upon the counter
Wine sits chilling
Ice slowly melts
Into pooling water
Jazz pours over the stereo
With indecipherable lyrics
Beautiful lyrics
French lyrics
Cluttered coffee table
Books strewn about
Dodging water droplets
Condensation upon glasses
Couch lays open
And inviting
And comfy
Eyes close
As time ticks by

Attic Inspection

Attic Inspection
By: James Dubeau

Two by four
Twenty-four
OSB
Trusses

Seventeen inch
Fiberglass
Loose fill
Insulation

Roof cans
Soffits
Air baffles
Faux gables

Water stains
Mold growth
Cracked sealants
Rusted flashing

Have To Pee

Have To Pee
By: James Dubeau

Sitting at the bar
Full glass in front of me
Full blatter in me
It is time to run
Far away to the hills
But
I can not do as such
My computer sits prone
Upon the bar
Trying not to be stolen
While I have to pee
In the restroom
Not ten feet away

Drink

Drink
By: James Dubeau

Drink to remember
Drink to forget
Drink to celebrate
Drink to dismiss
There is no time of day
Where one can not drink
After a hard days work
Or to keep the spirits
From dieing inside
Only the fear of pain
Will keep the drinks away
From the faint of heart
But for those hearty of soul
Who demand a grand old time
A drink is
A drink is
A drink

While Storms Rage

While Storms Rage
By: James Dubeau

Flash of light
Thunder strike
Head lay deep
In pillows heaped
Through closed eyes
Images shine through
Keeping me awake
Through the storm
Would these thoughts
Should these thoughts
Could these thoughts
Mean much more
Or just phantoms
Setting me up
For great failure
Now is time
For relaxation
Closed eyes sing
While mind wonders
Maybe some day
Phantoms will dance
While storms rage
On the other side
Of the window

Wakeup Call

Wakeup Call
By: James Dubeau

“You know how much I hate mornings,” Mark groaned as he rolled over and buried his head under the pillows. Susan had sprung out of bed and ripped the shade open to bathe the room in bright sunlight.

“Wake-y, wake-y, eggs and bac-y!” Susan practically sang as she pounced back onto the bed. Mark sensed her onslaught and flung a spare pillow at her. She caught it in midair and landed on him, the pillow cushioned her landing. Then she sat up, straddling his body under the sheets, and started beating Mark with the pillow.

“Stop,” he protested, holding his pillow tight against his head. “I just need five more minutes of sleep.”

“You said that you would go running with me before class,” it was more of a whine than it was a beg.

“Tomorrow. I’ll go with you tomorrow. There is some studying that I need to get done at the library before class today.” He lied.

“Fine,” Susan pouted. “I’ll catch you after class tonight then. Don’t forget, it’s your turn to make dinner.”

She hopped off the bed and pulled on a pair of running shorts and a sports bra. Mark peeked a look while she got dressed, hiding back under the pillow when she turned to find her shoes under the bed and looked at him.

“See you tonight babe. Love ya.”

“Love you too.” The door slammed leaving Mark alone.

It was hollow. Everything. His words. His thoughts. His feelings. Love is what his body and ego tricked him into believing. Mark’s mind knew it wasn’t love. Not any more.

With a sigh, Mark got out of bed. A long and peaceful shower was in his future. Alone.

Another Day Tomorrow

Another Day Tomorrow
By: James Dubeau

Window wide open
As the cricks chirp below
While the moon rises
Fully above the tree line
Another day is over
Sweat, blood, and tears
Shed throughout
On one thing to look forward to
When start twinkle above
Another day tomorrow
As grueling as the last

Prancing Through The Posies

Prancing Through The Posies
By: James Dubeau

Prancing through the posies
On a fine Sunday morn
Not a care in the world
Sun radiating down
Warming
Loving
Caring
To be held in those arms again
To be caressed
To be loved
Basking in the sun
Soaking up the rays
Scents of fresh flowers tickle the nose
Grass prickles against the skin
Puffy clouds float on by
Turning into shapes of the past
Present
Future
Leaving me wanting
And yearning
For a better time
A better life
One without any cares
Where everything is happy
And caring
And loving
But it is not to be
Not in this lifetime
Nor any other

The Game

The Game
By: James Dubeau

The game
Is full of rules
Laws
Regulations
Codes of conduct
Written or unwritten
Thick handbooks to read
Digest
Learn
Backwards and forwards
Knowledge is key
What to do
And when
What is legal
What will reward the penalty box
Is it worth the time
Effort
Sacrifice
To learn these rules
For the game
Which we all live

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Mirror Mirror On The Wall
By: James Dubeau

Mirror mirror on the wall
I have given it my all
Is there any hope of this ball
Will I just falter and stall
Plummet to earth as I fall
Or can I run down the hall
And answer the future’s call
With my reserve and gall
And stand straight and tall
Mirror mirror on the wall

Long Days Longer Nights

Long Days Longer Nights
By: James Dubeau

Long days
Longer nights
This is the time
In which we live
Work to do all day long
From sun up
To sun down
And then a bit more
Even today
On a lovely Saturday night
My bed beckons me
For in the morning
Before normally at work
I’m expected to be on the job
For what is needed
Must be completed
Before the day is done

Routine

Routine
By: James Dubeau

Sun rises
Sun sets
The same routine
Followed time and again
Day after day
Week after week
Month after month
Year after year
Horizons are clear
Allowing for continuation
Of the repeated pattern
When the boat rocks
Steady behavior pulls us through
But when the boat crashes upon the shore
The course must be altered
Before the ship sinks
Only a good crew
And a sturdy ship
Are able to pull through
As the ship rocks
And timbers creak under strain
A captain must ask himself
Is the crew capable
Will they pull the ship through
Save us all from catastrophe
Only if lead be a good captain
The ship will be safe
And able to sale another day
Returning to the same routine
Night after night
Moon rises
Moos sets