Aquatic Visual

Aquatic Visual

Where do we want to swim?

The clarity

of the South Pacific reef

is only matched 

by the artificial pool

contained in protective concrete, 

and the cold spring,

permeating up 

from the stone, 

while the predators 

hide in the murky mix 

of the storm churned ocean 

and the rolling mud river 

waiting to gaff 

and pull us together 

from the surface; 

a savior with teeth 

releasing us 

from the boundaries of flesh.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Listening (Grateful Perspective)

Listening (Grateful Perspective)

Songs

that never caused ripples

on the morning water,

now crash and wear the stones 

with curled white knuckles, 

or maybe the palms 

have just forgotten 

how they once bent 

amid the hurricane 

that rewrote the musical staff, 

changing the channels and passed 

to open and close.

But now my aging borders

crack, 

spilling the fertile soil 

and welcoming the tides

to enter.

Robert L. Jackson III

Annuals

Annuals

Let’s be trees 

and appear dormant 

through the winter

expanding our roots underground;

While the flowers,

too often the bright focus,

wilt and vanish,

and then we’ll awaken

into the arms of Spring.

Robert L. Jackson III

39

39

Fear

the moon

falling out of orbit,

the tides stopping

after their ebb,

the sun burning

it's hydrogen wick

to wax,

and the wind halting,

leaving a worn vessel 

to drift in the doldrums,

waiting to sink

with no drive

to reach its destined port.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Oceanic Myth

Oceanic Myth

In the iterative hallway 

lined with identical cabins,

the ocean was not visible, 

but Poseidon's power 

still tilted the rectangles 

in my mind.

My demigod and I 

walked away 

from a unfulfilled library, 

in the belly and without windows, 

containing only the tattered tales 

of Cousteau;

the room 

lost to the gleam 

of glass elevators 

and polished rails 

emitting lighthouse beams 

to attract destruction, 

like Alexandria.

Even the new steel 

welded in bulging seams 

could not resist 

ancient statues of Pan, 

submerged, but not yet lost.

Robert L. Jackson III

Erosion

By the time 

you return to the mountain 

across faint trails,

there may only be a hill.

Now it stands 

with blurred edges 

in the billowing clouds 

but is still too soft 

to be considered 

a fact,

to be etched 

in the blue and green atlas.

But still you follow 

the snow melt stream 

as it diminishes 

from the source, 

cutting striped canyons 

into the skin 

of your globe; 

the forgotten foundation

of expressions.

-Robert L. Jackson III

Replacements

Replacements

The planted trees bud in the Spring,

misaligned on the compressed soil.

How will they adapt to the world?

Will their branches bend around the conductors

and angle in the local breeze,

or will they follow the swirling currents of heat

and electrical emotion?

Robert L. Jackson