Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Always

Always

The new moon
still pulls
without a face
or a body,
walking
across the dark.
So we wait
for celestial progress
and the light
to narrow our pupils,
remembering,
how to walk 
in the dark.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Saturday, September 30, 2017

Symmetry

Symmetry

The fruit,
bruised on one side,
was then dropped
on the other.
I cut the original 
damage away,
and it was flat
on one side,
but just before 
it perished
you removed the other.
This continues
until
it is consumed,
but the seeds remain.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Wednesday, September 13, 2017

A Coast's Return

A Coast's Return

The vacuum
of the storm
drew all blood
to reveal 
the teeming floor.
In the cyclic path,
the ocean
refills the basin
completely,
following the edges
of each island,
and contour.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Written for the Poet's United Midweek Motif of 'Reunion'


Sunday, September 10, 2017

Hurricane Irma

I don't have a new poem today, but would like to ask that you keep in mind the people of west Florida and Tampa Bay. As you may have seen from the Life of a Poet earlier this week, Clearwater is my hometown where I grew up. There are pictures in that blog;
Hurricane Irma looks to be headed directly for this area. 


It may look much different after this.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Yeast

Yeast

The mixture of grains,
eggs and milk,
lie flat
and sterile
until infinitesimal beings
emerge,
and conquer 
the harvested fields,
exhaling 
and shrugging
to stretch  the fibers
into a precarious state,
only to be subdued
by metallically contained
energy.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Obvious

Obvious

Holes
appear in the wall,
from both bullets and corrosion.
Both light
and water flow through.
If the metal is peeled away
and the containment breached,
will the land flood
or be enlightened?

-Robert L. Jackson III

Written for the Poets United blog's midweek Motif of 'Flood.'



Sunday, August 13, 2017

Catching Wind

This post is a little different than usual. After recollecting my high school days, I asked my mother to find this essay which was written for Mrs. Roby's English class about twenty-four years ago. I remember it because it was entered in some state writing competition, but did not win. After an extensive search, it was found (thank you!). This is a scan of the original, with errors and all.