dreams have finally returned
lucid and vivid
maybe sleep aint all that bad

jwturner
12/4/2009

the goal is clear
the path is not
it is guarded
by a familiar foe
a powerful legion
anticipates every move
one thousand men
with just one face
mine

the goal is clear
the path is too
i just need to get out
of my own way

jwturner
11/29/2009

he could see the line
it was there, always there
constantly daring him to cross

he even liked it
he flirted with the line
taunted it from a distance

but he had chosen a path
a comfortable, winding path
that would never force him to cross it

and then one day
suddenly and without warning
the path brought the line closer than it had ever been

the line sprang to life
startled, he stared at the line
and the line gazed back at him

with eyes and mouth
and body and spirit it spoke
and called his name and begged him

to leave the path

jwturner
8/7/08

It’s actually sad to look at the date on my last post. Can it really be that long since I’ve written any kind of poem? Not even a haiku?

Speaking for myself, since there is nobody else to speak for, I often wonder if I should keep it up or not. Perhaps I should just turn it into a personal writing site and forget about trying to force poetry to come. It’s either there or it’s not. As you can see, it’s not been there.

your face
on my screen is
gripping my brain
I know it’s a photo
but it drives me insane
it’s solely to blame
for the sleep
i’m delaying
for this moment’s
unfraying
for the demons
i’m slaying
for this game
that I’m playing
for this price
that I’m paying
for the urge
i’m obeying
for these words
I’m relaying
and the ones
I’m not saying

jwturner
8/28/09

they get
the top to do
the most of few
the first of you

they get
to be desired
to be inspired
the you not tired

they get
blessed by you
the zest in you
the best of you

I get
what’s left of you

jwturner
6/29/09

you fooled me once, shame on you
second time’s on me
number three? simply painful

jwturner
5.18.2009

i long for the new in you
the first touch of your skin
the surprise of your curves
the shock of your lips
i long for the unforeseen
an unexpected movement
an unpredictable moan
an unforgettable moment
i long for the new in you

jwturner
5/8/09

Walking out of Moscone Center in San Francisco, our group happened upon Zach Houston’s Poem Store.

Zach sits outside with an old typewriter and pumps out poems on ripped scraps of paper. He simply asks what you want your poem to be about and you pay him what you wish. I had no cash, so I borrowed three dollars, including a $2 bill from Ira Serkes and polled the group for what I should ask him to write about. Ginger Wilcox suggested, “Love.” That’s one of my favorite topics, so that’s what we went with.

I was going to just type in the poem he wrote for me, but you really can’t get a feel for the poems he writes without seeing them. So here it is. Thanks, Zach.

here she comes, walking up the aisle
the stewardess with the plastic smile
she’s moving at a turtle’s pace
a silly look upon her face
it appears to be glued just above her chin
that ever present, stupid grin
can’t she see i’m not in the mood
to watch someone else feel so good
she doesn’t mean it anyway
it’s just a game she’s paid to play
so, i think i’ll make my flight complete
and as she passes my prime aisle seat
i’ll trip her

jwturner
7/26/87
on the plane home