More David Michael Jackson Poetry
More David Michael Jackson Poetry
Owl Poem with Warthogs
Wee Willie was a warthog
he warted and hogged the whole day
and at night Wee Willie turned into
a great horned owl and
flew and flew
all night long.
The owl’s name was Ollie the Owl
and Ollie perched in the highest tree
and waited for the sunrise.
Warthogs and owls
don’t know that I know
their little
secret.
I am a man in the day and when I sleep I
fly with Ollie
Oh Wee Willie
Oh Wee Willie
Do you sleep when Ollie
flies?
Oh Ollie Oh Ollie
I’ll meet you when
the sun falls behind the
mouse’s
house.
david michael jackson April 21, 2012 [email protected]
If the kids liked the Owl poem they may like my rabbit poem
Cinco de Mayo de La Puebla Poem
Amigos
Gracias por la batalla de Puebla
Thank you for our freedom
Strike up the band
Break out the smiles and banners
and dance dance dance
let the skirts fly high
let the men stomp the ground and shout
Bravo
Cinco de Mayo
Bravo Cinco De Mayo
Gracias amigos
Gracias
Por nuestra libertad.
david michael jackson May 5, 2012
This Day
This day this day this day
the sun the sun will shine
this day this day this day
my love will be mine
oh write for me a sonnet
oh write for me a book
oh slip the bonds of caring
into the cranny nook
oh let me be the one
the one who does not weave
the thread of discontent
with the words I leave
I paused on the hillside
long enough to see the Indian family
passing beside the tall oak,
long enough for me to catch
a glimpse of them
against the sky.
A solace of Indians
I saw them turn to me
They looked me in the eye
I turned away
I said
Go away there
why
are you following me?
I saw the slave then
in chains
gazing at me beside his mule.
I saw him turn to me
He looked me in the eye.
I turned away.
I said
Go away there
why
are you following me?
When I looked again
I saw the
woman.
……………….david michael jackson
There are great poets,
no minor poets,
and me,
no real rain of perfect words.
These words of today will always
have to do.
We make do with what we have
and I have only the flowers
I failed to pick today.
I let them live.
They have so little time to attract the
bee
and I am as worthless with the pollen
as I am here among the
great poets,
but the flower doesn’t ask
“Is it a great bee?”
And neither should you.
Poems for peace
start somewhere.
They start too often after the war
after the bodies are counted
and we have given up on counting them.
Poems for peace come from the cries
of mothers over children.
Poems for peace come from
soldiers who cry,
why
why
why.
Poems for peace don’t come as easily as
this poem from
this poet for
this poet is not worthy.
this poet is not worthy.
he has not killed nor seen the blood
on his own hands
enough to cry
for the soldier,
enough to cry for the
innocent.
To say I am not worthy so
I will not speak of the peace,
I cannot.
Who didn’t see that war or this war take
take a piece of their lives,
you?
Who didn’t see the lack of peaceful words
harm someone,
you?
Who didn’t lose a friend to war,
you?