Is This Possible

Is This Possible
By: James Dubeau

Is this possible
Can this be
Will it come to pass
Or will it all
Like all before
Tumble and fall
Only time will tell
What will come to pass
And what will
Only come to failure

Blocked

Blocked
By: James Dubeau

Fuck
Why can’t I think
Fuck
Why can’t I write
Fuck
Why don’t the words form
Fuck
Why doesn’t the ink flow
Fuck
Why don’t the keys type
Fuck
Why doesn’t the page fill
Fuck
Why don’t my characters move
Fuck
Why don’t they talk
Fuck
Why don’t they live
Fuck
Why can’t I write
Fuck

Is This What Love Is

Is This What Love Is
By: James Dubeau

Is this what love is
When your heart
Soars out
But it cannot
Put it’s arms around
Those that you’re with
As they dance
And writhe
And drink
Hands can only go so far
Mind only allows so much
Like
Love
Hate
Jealously
All bounce around
As music floods
Bass beats
Bumping
Grinding
Hugging
Kissing
But none can be had
None can be felt
None can be held
I am alone

What Is This Life

What Is This Life
By: James Dubeau

What is this life
That we are given
Only to have it
Taken away
In a blink
Of the eye
Fuck this world
And all these things
What made this
Such a shitty place
It is all just a lie
That we take for granted
A life
That we live
The only good thing
That I have to say
In this shitty world
Is that I get
One last chance
To say
Good bye

Peacekeeper?

Peacekeeper?
By: James Dubeau

Do you really
Bring peace
When every move
Only instills fear
Why should you
Be considered a good guy
When all you do
Is strong arm those
Who do not obey
If anything
You deserve to be
Knocked down a peg
Or three
For all the injustices
That have been caused
By you
And those like you

A Moment To Vent

A Moment To Vent
By: James Dubeau

Fucking people need to go
They need to sod off and die
There is no need to shoot my car
Breaking the driver side window
Just because you are bored
Should not be a reason to egg my car
Nor because your drunk ass
Doesn’t know how to drive
Or pay attention to the road
Give you an excuse
To rear end my car
Smashing the bumper to bits
Why does the general public
Only agree on one thing
Which is that I cannot
Have nice things
My car must be battered
Beaten
Shot
And disgraced
Until the semblance of a nice thing
Has gone away
But I give a fair warning
To the general public out there
Hell will be paid
If anyone is ever caught
Fucking with my car

In My Pockets

In My Pockets
By: James Dubeau

Faux leather money clip
Wrinkled dollar bill attached
Credit card
Debit card
Drink card
Business card
VIP card
Employee card
Ice cream card
Drivers License
And old lotto ticket
All stuffed inside
Crumpled memo book
With pages torn out
Remaining pages are covered
In black chicken scratches
Mental notes
Half hearted poetry
Story outlines
Black pen
Red pen
Mechanical pencil
With a busted off clip
Work schedule folded in half
And in half again
Silver box knife
Has yet to slice the pocket
Some day soon it shall happen
Work truck key
On a fob
Personal car key
On another
Dangling with
House key
Work key
Deadbolt key
Office key
Safe key
Gas key
Nineteen-ninety-six
Shiny copper penny
Tube of Chap Stick
For these snowy days
And a cellular phone
Cracked
Scratched
Dented
And
Dinged

There Is

There Is
By James Dubeau

There is something more
Something more awaits me
Awaits me from beyond
From beyond the horizon
The horizon concealed secrets
Concealed secrets cannot be grasped
Cannot be grasped in my hands
In my hands there is nothing
There is nothing to fill my soul
To fill my soul would be necessary
Would be necessary to succeed
To succeed there is

Tired

Tired
By: James Dubeau

Tired in the morning
Tired at night
Tired at the mid day meal
Tired all the time
Tired when the alarm rings
Tired when snooze hits
Tired as I crawl out of bed
Tired driving to work
Tired as fingers grace the keys
Tired as the mouse slides about
Tired on the drive home
Tired while watching TV
Tired while writing lines
Tired while revising
Tired when going to bed
Tired
Tired
Tired
Why can’t I sleep