Renew

Renew

After weather

and the eyes of generations

the white house

reveals its rotting boards,

still withstanding

the winter winds

that pulled the cotton flowers

from their knotted fingers.

Once dressed in unbroken white

she has protected

her family

from the typeset headlines

and dying soil,

but now struggles

in pastel yellow,

blending into the horizon

of grass and grain.

We want to bring renewal,

but only the owner

can paint you.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Each's Babylon

Each seeks a tower,

abandoned or built,

unguarded by steel

armor or blades,

to close the divine distance

and increase their view.

Some chisel new clean blocks

from the cleansed and uncovered rock,

while others use remnants,

rounded and covered in moss.

Searching amongst the trees

and city lines,

the tallest options

often are never considered

due to the effort required

to ascend their spirals

before they crumbles.

Some never stay

in one corrugated nest

after seeing the green valley

and shiny steeples beyond.

Few realize that our heads

need only the height

of our spines to achieve ease,

because earth contains 

the common elements of the sky.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Repaired (Munich - Munchen)

This was written in Germany.

Repaired (Munich)

I.  A dark sky of overcast

was painted

to replace the ceiling portraits

lost in the war.

The lost depictions

conveyed ideals of humanity

and justice,

through the characters of myth.

The cracks 

of the repaired structures

reveal no sign of weakness

below the plaster.

II. The live shells

slept below families

until the installment 

of modern architecture and amenities

required their detonation

to be removed.

The straw,

meant to absorb the waves,

rekindled a lost struggle

and the clear windows

cracked and shattered.

The air however

never stays opaque

but the music

curves 

it into a memory

of fading tiles.

III. The king,

lost in a millennia

of sand,

never dropped

the crystal cup,

leaving one lonely handle.

But to secure symmetry

a metal loop

augmented the other side

and carried

no light.

-Robert L. Jackson

September Travel

September Travel

The ghost of geography
guides me through the meadow
of tempting poppies 
and Black-eyed Susans.
She takes my hand
through the electron ether
without the taint of contact
to poison our thoughts.
How do you tighten your grip,
with no pressure
between the topography
of our hands?
I look to my feet
to check if the path is tread,
and if the destination
is recorded.
Is there a tan manuscript
rotting on a shelf
or beneath the flowing sand
that maps our love?
She guides me through the atlas,
tearing pages from their binding
and breaching the bandwidth
of the bridge we emitted across.  

-Robert L. Jackson

Relics

Relics

Do the royal lineages

require more glimmer and detail

to become inspired?

They bring as luggage

a portable alter

laden with fierce images and deep oceans

of molded metal and polished gems

piercing holes

that they hope will leak out

the heavens.

The skulls and fore arms

of saints 

and the splinters 

of deadly scaffolding

lie in windows

ordained with visions

that instill their worth.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Cielo Azul

Cielo Azul

For the first time
I saw the gray sharp predator
skim the white debris of life,
searching for the injured
in the early morning sun.
Its body and tail
moved in unison,
revealing no sign of thrust.
After dusk
another danger streaked
across the sky;
Innocently following
the pull of the larger body;
Revealing the faux instinct
of a falling star.
The dinosaurs only feared
the teeth of the meteor,
that never roared,
gnashed or taunted
in its silent hunt.
The gray one
rules in silence
and leaves the water blue
in the bleaching sun
until hunger returns.

Robert L. Jackson

Sailing Revival (July 4th, 2013)

Sailing Revival (July 4th, 2013)

Decades ago,
I spent a season of youth
sanding smooth
the aged edges
of the centerboard
and rudder;
The lone materials
that kept my hull
from sliding away
on the edge of the storm.
Then I sealed
their wooden grains
with laquer
that caused them to glisten
and enriched their contrast.
This work of preservation
was returned to me
when the next youth,
smiled and wondered,
and road across the choppy crests
toward the guarded coast
of the mangled spoil island,
whose anchoring roots
of pine, palm and mangrove
have dissipated
over the same period
and allowed the crystals of sand
to migrate
to the jetty grown
public access beach.

-Robert L. Jackson III