James Babbs- Three Poems

James Babbs continues to live and write from the same small Illinois town where he grew up.  He has published hundreds of poems over the past thirty years and, recently, a few short stories.  James is the author of Disturbing The Light(2013) & The Weight of Invisible Things(2013).

I Just Write Poetry

so far

I’ve been able to fool them

but I’m not sure

how much longer

I can keep it up

I think

they’re starting to get suspicious

I don’t know

maybe

I’m just being paranoid

but that’s what happens

when people start following you around

oh yeah

I’ve seen them

pretending not to notice me

young mothers with their children

old ladies in the checkout lines

counting out their change

teenagers

congregating in front of schools

and lots of men driving trucks

acting like they have some place to go

I don’t know who they’re working for

probably

some secret government agency

maybe

for some foreign country

nobody’s ever heard of

they must think

I’m getting close to something

why else would they be doing this

they’ve probably seen my writings

plastered all over the internet

they’re convinced

I’ve written secret codes

into every one of my poems

and they’re worried

impressionable young minds

are somehow being influenced

I’ve been labeled a subversive

a menace to society

I’m certain

they’ve put it all down in their files

they consider me dangerous and

all of them agree

I need to be stopped

I Was in Love With a Beautiful Woman

I was in love with a beautiful woman

but it doesn’t matter

now

at night

the stars continue to shine

above me in the sky and

I understand

the moon’s not made of cheese

but I keep driving the same roads

almost every day and

I watch the crooked trees

under a harsh gray sky

I’m afraid it’s going to rain

before I make it home again

half bottle of whiskey

sitting on the table and

eight cans of beer

waiting for me in the fridge

The Sky Soft and Gray Like a Piece of Canvas Stretched Overhead

it’s March and

there’s a cold wind blowing

the sky soft and gray

like a piece of canvas stretched overhead

I enter through the gate and

walk past one of the graves

covered with fresh dirt

on my way to the back of the cemetery

where the older stones are located

some of them leaning over

some of them worn away and

no longer easy to read

some of them broken and

the pieces

lying on top of each other

I’m looking for the grave

of my great-grandfather

I know it’s around here

somewhere

because I’ve seen it before

but its been a long time

nearby

there’s a pile of discarded decorations

that have been taken from the graves

in order to get the cemetery ready

for another mowing season

right now

the grass doesn’t look too green

but I know it won’t be long

there’s always another summer

it’s only a matter of time