4 poems by Jake St. John: I Talked To The Moon for Jack Micheline I’m talking to the moon tonight for you, Jack I moved my feet and made it to California a long way from home and I talked to the moon in Asheville and I talked to the moon in Nashville I talked to the moon in New Orleans where the waters rose above the doors but the bars did not close I talked to the moon in Texas in wide open spaces where poems rode like outlaws through the streets and the moon talked to me as it shined in the sky and reflected like the white line of the highway my insides spilled on the streets of Broadway in San Francisco my heart thumping in Chinatown I talked to the moon and rambled my dreams and my nightmares and the moon talked to me, Jack the moon talked to me ### Reflections From The Road I cannot sleep tonight stars scream in my eyes the train horn tosses and turns in my bed invisible children stomachs as empty as their dreams whimpering in the rush of night homeless clutching cardboard resumes and coffee cups void of hope fragile voices asking my nightmares for change ### Neighborhood Sketch After Dark down here on the outskirts of town in sleepy ol’ America sometime after the sky has lost its blue here I am scribbling & giggling in these tiny notebooks the stars peak over my shoulder and the only thing I can really hear is a car passing by in the night and maybe a train whistle writing by the window light or if I’m lucky a full moon I can see the universe spill out before me and here I am floating through the void no more than a leaf down a lazy river all peaceful & eternal now the waves hush as they splash on the beach below and the constant steady hum of the factory on the far shore and I feel like the last man on earth because the night provides a certain amount of loneliness even when it’s not bleak and empty but it’s there hiding out in the shadows ready to leap if you turn your back and I can feel it as the pen scratches words onto the page down here on the outskirts of town in sleepy ol’ America where all the houses are crowded with dreams ### Sing A Song for Jack Micheline early morning sun in the sky that big yellow bird pulls up to the front walk of the school and the doors open and a song falls down the stairs with kids wearing smiles out onto the front walk and I ask the bus driver why she sings songs with the kids she brings to school every day and home every night and she said to me if they’re singing songs they’re not fighting they’re not fighting and I sat down on a bench with those words in my head and I thought to myself sitting in the sun why can’t rich old men sing songs together rich old men financing all these wars should sing songs together and all the soldiers all over the world should sing songs together as their bones are bleached by the sun out in the battlefields and all the politicians in all the countries under the stars can get together and sing songs they can all sing the same song a song about the children a song about the homeless a song about the hungry a song about the soldier whose bones are being bleached by the sun out in the battlefields. © Jake St. John All rights reserved. All work belongs to the author and may not be reprinted or used without authors permission.
Posted on: Sat, 03 Jan 2015 02:22:26 +0000