Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Towards Solstice

Towards Solstice

Reaching for the sky,
full of light,
the thin beings
only obtain flight
in death,
fluttering 
and spiraling to 
an iterative task
of fueling a fire,
or the probable
forest floor,
after the green
of chlorophyll,
able to grasp
and knead the rays
into food,
leaves behind
only brown fibers
and the structure
of a noble 
nurturer
to the effectively eternal
towers.

Robert L. Jackson III



Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Graphene

Graphene

If she desires
then her fingers
can touch
me across any ocean boundary
and leap 
through an empty sky
to the matter
of this distant orbit.
No membrane
can halt
singular energy
from igniting
cascading reactions
to become
the most powerful
force yielded by humans,
able to break bonds
and reform them
into beauty
absent of design.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Giants


Giants

The stars love the burning
and to follow the laws
of waves and particles.
The stars send their light
to other lifetimes,
bending across the universe.
The stars share their fuel,
warming the elements
and the rocks to react.
The reactions create
the strength between us,
the unique matter of souls.
The stars stitch through
smoldering holes
the pitch black blanket
weighting our shoulders.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Monday, September 5, 2016

Thorns

Thorns

I once thought
the small sharp thorns
would dull
or rot away,
but they've only grown.
However, 
the roots have spread
and now I must decide
to either cut them away
with new tools
or to employ them
as talons.

-Robert L. Jackson III



Sunday, July 31, 2016

Dunedin Pass

Dunedin Pass

The resilient tides
and singular hurricanes
incrementally alter
the face of my coastline,
until I do not recognize
the channels and currents
that I followed and fought
as a juvenile vessel,
free of barnacles, 
and inching away from port.
Amid the resonance 
of lunar crescents
and dredged sand, 
can there be faith
in the pass between islands
to the open ocean,
and that it will still be open,
when our moorings 
finally fray
and wear away?

-Robert L. Jackson III



Dunedin Pass in 1979.
Near to where I grew up there was a pass, or channel between Caladesi Island and Clearwater Beach. It had strong current and we used to swim across. It closed after hurricane Elena. 
Here is where the picture originated and a little history:
http://coastal.er.usgs.gov/wfla/vft/dunedin/

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Drift


I just wrote this today in response to the Poets United Midweek Motif theme of resilience. Due to some health problems I have been thinking about resilience quite a bit. 


Drift

The fuel evaporated
never to be combusted
in the engine,
the ground filled
and covered in the salt
of the ocean,
killing the vines
that never would succumb
to poison,
and the sun emerged,
arousing the world
unevenly.
The local violent heat
must escape
to fill the deadly vacuum,
and drive the wind.
There are always the differences
that pulls canvas tight.
There is always the wind
that returns.

-Robert L. Jackson III





Thursday, May 26, 2016

Nurture

A poem written where land meets the ocean.

Nurture

Are we rescuing 
the shells 
from the grinding waves 
and the homogenizing sun, 
or starving he beach 
of milky sand? 
The oceanic currents 
provide a harvest 
of food and thought 
beneath a blurred band of stars. 
Sifting through 
the broken and intact, 
eyes twitch 
for sea olives
(not edible), 
slipper shells
(not wearable), 
silent fiddler crab claws, 
and lion's paws, 
whose fierceness 
dulls with the tides.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Sunday, April 17, 2016

A poem that I guess is for Spring

Spring (2016)

Our bodies
are vessels of nutrients
for the next generation.
Leaving our minds and souls,
if not spoken or written,
to dissipate as fog
in the summer sun.
Loves
are the colors mixing
to a new palette
and style
for which 
the contemporary artist
will record the world.
Dreams are maps
to treasures
or gardens 
behind exposed sedimentary walls
not yet found
under the mud
left each Spring.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Saturday, February 27, 2016

Osteopathic

This is about some health problems that have come along in the past few months. It is optimistic though.


Osteopathic

The river,
poisoned by the stained 
grey concrete geometries,
still flows,
along the same valley,
polishing the mountains,
past the overhanging 
water oaks
and wise cyprus trees.
It's blood,
feeding the algae,
and rounding the rocks.
It's curves
stirring up
the purifying mud.
It's flow, accelerating
and collecting through time,
but then broadening 
and thinning,
until still seeping
into the boundless
sodium sea.

-Robert L. Jackson III





Sunday, February 7, 2016

Weathered

Weathered 

Our statues, 
constructed 
during the early age 
of heroes, 
are crumbling.
Repair them
with bubblegum,
and document them
in silly putty,
but they still wear
in the wind
and erode
in the falling droplets 
of dark soda.
With the sun grinding down,
even though they fall
their shadows continue to grow.

-Robert L. Jackson III




Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Joy

Joy

When the stitches around
a patch
hold;
When the stones fit
and fullfill 
a mathematical prophecy;

When the rubble
stops falling
from a torn house;
When the soil
holds the lake
from leaking into the fire;

When the speech
between minds
resonates 
and creates something new;
When eyes
can see
the clear beauty
in themselves;

When the tree
grows around
the rusting fence;
When the seedling
emerges,
and after a lifetime
returns to the dust;

When the machine
overcomes
the unforeseen;
When the cycle
continues.

-Robert L. Jackson III


Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United