Air

Air

In the crowded room

at ten meters apart,

electrically,

we are separated

by a salty ocean

100,000 light years wide,

the diameter 

of the Milky Way's disk,

spiraling

with 200 billion stars.

However, if gazing across

an earthly ocean

we are separated

by not even an angstrom

of air,

and the particles

leap to touch

across the gaps of nothing.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Vision

Vision

Digital statues

gaze down 

at windows, 

but no landscapes 

lie beyond the glass 

covering reflective veins 

of pure silicon

falling into a grid 

without hierarchy 

and branching regeneration.

These contemporary visions 

evolved from crackling flames, 

to charcoal drawings, 

to indigo symbols, 

to electrical sounds, 

to pictures in light, 

to pure information.

Robert L. Jackson III

Misplaced Poem

This poem was found hiding in a unrelated folder in my office.  I am not sure when it was written, but it was a while ago.

Adventure

We shoot for stars
with air powered bb guns
and try to bend gravity
like the gods used to do.
Now those days are gone
with only traces left
at the exotic locale
of mythical rocks and legendary seas.
So we travel
to outer space
through the dreams of children
but not to Earth.
The destination is in question
when places do not exist.

Robert L. Jackson III

Ragweed

The yellow flowers

pierce my lungs

in the wait for winter

to ease breathing

from this last gasp

of fertility.

The leaves

will coat the land

and obstruct many seedlings 

from hunting the air

in the thick warm blue.

From beneath,

rescue will come

in the form of worms 

reducing the sails

to brittle scaffolding,

and releasing

the soldiers to conquer.

Robert L. Jackson III

Lists

Lists

The glass under the full spectrum of energy

will sag, scratch, and cloud;

but keep the boundary intact

between the two atmospheres.

The impatiens and ivy may unravel beyond

above the window box and pot rim

or be sheared by teeth,

but still keep the roots watered.

Let the gypsum dry wall warp

and pale paint peel,

while the grass grows high

around a rusting mailbox,

but do not let

the timber beneath rot and buckle.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Spin free

This is actually a slightly older one that I just felt like posting.

Spin Free

Smash the compass,

shattering

the whirling

viscous sound,

so gravity cannot

hold its needle

on a pivot,

and air cannot

dampen its spin,

and light

cannot reflect

its directions,

and the metal

cannot feel cold

in our hands,

and the magnetic field

becomes invisible

again,

leaving

our souls

as the only map to follow.

Robert L. Jackson III

Spinning Seed

When spinning

the earth sees

the days continuing to flare and dim,

the bicycle tire

balances more easily,

the escaping rocket

flies straighter

and pierces the darkness more deeply,

the leaf and seed

take longer to reach the ground

and spread their species farther,

the atmosphere organizes

into a storm,

and the mind

thinks of analogies

and correlations.

-Robert L. Jackson III

June

Somewhere there is a meadow

that has never met

metal, herbicide,

or the soles of bare

and rubber covered feet.

Each bloom located

by the wind or the animal

with severed blades

never bagged in plastic

but digested in grazers.

Somewhere the sounds

of speed and electrons

has never resonated

stalks to follow

invisible dances;

Instead they sway

-Robert L. Jackson III

13

Ringed stalks

knobbed from the gnawing 

of mammals

and browned in droughts

can bloom again

from beneath the decaying straw

in the wet Summer.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Patterns

Usually the sand spires

and hardened bridges

succumb to the rhythmic

and predictable tides,

but today it is the pattering rain

that pelts the surfaces,

slowly texturing the walls

into uniform dimples

that lower it to the horizon.

The deep moat fills

and slowly erodes the walls; 

fracturing off and filling themselves in

until the confined liquid reaches the banks 

and overflows into the gate and courtyard.

The realm of crustaceans,

quartz, and salt 

fall to the sky,

that awards it's subjects

with sintering embers each dusk.

Awakened by the lapping sea,

the warriors observe a flat beach,

rippled only with wind blown dunes

and the debris lines of tides,

piled high in rusty barbed wire seaweed,

bleached broken shell shields, 

and the spears of mangrove seeds.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Workshop Triolet

Today was an unusual day as I went to a poetry workshop held by the Southern Humanities Review:

http://southernhumanitiesreview.blogspot.com/2014/02/discovering-shr-is-this-weekend.html

It was at St. Dunston's church which was 

different than what I expected on the inside.  

It reminded me of a cabin at a mountain resort. 

It was a good program and it made me think.  I heard lots of good poetry.  Here is one of the results.

The triolet equation

I think in equations

is a power that cannot be gaged

and that often we shun.

I think in equations

of solutions to nations.

Math was taught as my language, so

I think in equations,

a power that cannot be gaged.

-Rob Jackson

Expansion

Expansion

Spring water

guided by

extruded metal 

solidified and expanded,

cracking the seams

In the molded plastic

so that the sequenced valve

would never close.

The ungoverned flow

moves past the frozen,

holding open

the prison door

through the tubing

to exit and fly and layer,

onto leaves and fibers

bending under the weight

of curving beauty

freed from the laws of man, 

and allowed to follow

the instincts of nature.

Robert L. Jackson

Sand

Sand

Sand is born
from protection that has failed
for the shells 
of crustaceans and mollusks,
and ground from rock
in the tumbling waves 
and swirling wind.
It is abrasive
to those not yet hardened
by the salt and and sun.
The grains traverse the world
in the soles of shoes,
the metal joints,
and folds of skin;
contaminating societies.
Rarely do we realize
that it polishes metal
to a revealing mirror finish,
and cleans and melts to silicon;
the critical substance
of modern communication.

-Robert L. Jackson