bear

by tinothy t jones

a bear went walking in the woods because he had the goods on the devastation of civilization every year the cars got easier to break into and the snacks in them just got tastier and tastier at the rate they were going in 3000 years there would be more cars than trees and all them filled with beer and pretzels and ham sandwiches the sun smiled at their folly and the skies wept and over eternity a trillion clouds swept

haiku

by timothy t jones

the sad blade of grass waits oh so patiently for the bug to pass

goodbye henry

by timothy t jones

they came to say goodbye to henry. it was the thing to do. it was a nice day. with a few clouds in the sky. everything went smoothly. nobody had much to say. mostly they just nodded. eventually it was over. until the next time. whatever that means. if anything. goodbye, henry.

hesitation

by timothy t jones

thanks to nooshin azadi, for the idea for this poem

i dreamed in another life i was a monkey sitting on the shore of a desert island trying to catch a fish and behind me in the jungle a terrible beast roared i was all these things i was the monkey that sat and the fish that swam and the beast that roared and i was a grain of sand on the beach and a wave in the ocean and a beam from the sun i was all these things and more because life is a dream yes, life is a dream i know this and yet i hesitate to jump off tall buildings walk in the traffic or sleep in the river

up the road

by timothy t jones

once upon a time there was a happy kingdom, ruled by a wise king and a beautiful queen. one day the queen was seated at one of the windows of the castle and she saw a stranger coming up the road. he looks like a strange man, the queen said to her maid, who was sated at the window with her.along with her jester and her privy counselor. what is strange about him? asked the maid, he looks like any other stranger coming up the road. that is a good question, answered the queen. she turned to the privy councilor, and said - summon the captain of the guard, and have the fellow brought before me. as you wish. the captain of the guard brought the stranger before the queen. he looked a bit shabbier in person than he had seemed, observed from the castle window. who are you? the queen asked the stranger.. i am he who travels forever, but never arrives, the stranger replied. that could describe a lot of people, the queen’s maid said, with a laugh. almost everybody, the jester added, except our most gracious king and queen. do not speak in riddles to her majesty, the privy councilor advised the stranger sternly. i am he who neither flies, nor feels the road under his feet, the stranger said. more riddles! the privy councilor exclaimed. speak plainly, fellow! you are not being very hospitable, councilor, the queen observed mildly. come, sir, we wish you no ill. who are you? i am he who is a slave to all, but bow to no one. this will not do, not do at all, the privy councilor sneered, as the jester snickered and the maid rolled her eyes. do you mean to say you would not bow before his majesty the king? there is no king, the stranger answered. the queen laughed, and turned to the privy councilor. this is beginning to be amusing, she observed. please find his majesty and ask for the favor of his presence. with a scowl, the privy councilor did as the queen bid. but the king could not be found, neither in his chamber, or anywhere in the castle or the surrounding grounds. and though the entire kingdom was searched, as well as the surrounding kingdoms, and the empires to the east and north and the rivers to the south and the oceans to the west, he was never found.

high on a mountaintop

by timothy t jones

two prophets were brought before the emperor. they had been causing a disturbance on the street of the capital, cursing each other roundly and each accusing the other of false dogma. how, asked the vizier, seated at the emperor’s right hand, shall we decide between them? here is what you do, the emperor addressed the captain of the guard. take both of these rascals to the top of the highest mountain in my domains, and throw them both off. see which of them falls to the ground and shatters into a thousand pieces, and which of them floats to the ground like a feather and lands on his feet. the two prophets were led away, and the emperor proceeded to the next order of business. when they had descended the thousand golden steps of the palace, and exited the peaceful courtyard with its hundreds of sparkling fountains throwing water up to the sun, and found themselves out in the dusty street of the capital, the captain of the guard turned to the two prophets and said - go about your business. do not let me see either of you for at least of week. do you mean, asked the first prophet, that you are not going to take us to the highest mountain and throw us off it? of course not. do either of you know where the highest mountain is, or how far away it is? or how to get there? i, for one, have better things to do than trying to find it, let alone climb it. neither prophet had answers to the captain’s questions. what are we to do for a week? asked the first prophet. prophecy is all we know. find honest employment, the captain said. how are we to do that? the second prophet asked, we do not have names, we are only first prophet and second prophet, and without names we can not find what you call honest employment. call yourselves joe jones and bob lee, the captain said. can we give you as a reference? the first prophet asked. why not? the captain of the guard departed. the two erstwhile prophets looked at each other. a cloud appeared in the sky, but no rain fell.

culture war blues

by timothy t jones

i don’t want to bake cookies like a woman i don’t want to hunt moose like a man i don’t want to catch fish like a polar bear i just want to be who i am i don’t want to make billions on wall street or live in a commune in a tree i don’t want to be a squid or an octopus i just want to be me i don’t want to go on tik tok and convert the world to my views don’t want to hold a sign at a rally i don’t want to watch the news i don’t want to wear a suit and tie or a uniform of blue i just want to collect my welfare check and do what i have to do if i can’t be brad pitt or tom brady i would settle for being bill gates or just an ordinary billionaire but such is not my fate i don’t want to get up in the morning though the system tells me i must i would rather sit by the side of the road and talk to the bugs in the dust they ask me all these stupid questions that don’’t do me any good i can’t fly away on a rocket to the moon but every day i wish i could

53, or the dawn

by timothy t jones

it is my privilege to serve you please do not tell a joke i know it is only natural and will not cause an international sensation in your heart you are not a hypocrite but you take your power for granted you remember the old days when humans ruled the earth it is important to understand that freedom is a gift the revolution has no gratitude and humans have no memory 53 was an important individual and stood on a balcony he heard the cheers of the crowd a crowd filled with his enemies the cheers contained a message that his ears could not hear also he got bad advice and did not see the dawn breaking behind him

different

by timothy t jones

different people lead different lives some are con men, some work nine to five some are on welfare, some are movie stars some spend their lives in libraries, others in sports bars some people love the whole human race and greet the world with a smiling face others take exception to their personal circumstances and think they don’t get fair chances some are born with silver spoons in their mouths, but still sing sad tunes some are happy just to exist some disappear, and are never missed some people just can’t get along everything they do is wrong others always provoke a smile and have no bad info in their files some folks have to rise and shine and rush to get to work on time others can lie around all day whether the skies are blue or gray more and more folks “work at home” and spend their lives on the phone or sit all day in front of a screen what does it all mean? yes, my friend, the world is changing unseen forces are rearranging the human race into one big blob the new age is on the job when the aliens arrive hardly a soul will be alive who will remember the old days when different people went different ways

who is

by timothy t jones

who is he who never speaks but only laughs? who wants everything you have but settles for half? who will let you go along day by day? but when the time is right for him will make you pay? around every corner behind every door at every bus stop walking on every shore his collar over his face his hat over his eyes he will find you when he wants you but will make it a surprise listen, o wayfarer for this is the strangest part he wants to be your friend and write his name in your heart

tigers

by timothy t jones

the sky is as blue as tigers. the clouds are as white as polar bears. after a while, the sky turns gray, as gray as an elephant. later it will turn dark blue. it will not turn black - very rarely does it actually turn black. a street light will come on beneath your window. if you wait long enough, someone will walk down the street. if you wait even longer, someone will stop under the street light. and they will look up at your window and you will see their face. that is, you could, if the window was not so high. the window is as high as the sky. there is a sliver of moon in the sky. but it is hidden behind the clouds. the clouds in the dark blue night. you listen, but you hear nothing. not even a lonesome whistle. or the sound of tires in the rain. because it is not raining. it has not rained for a long time.

in the wind

by timothy t jones

american dog waiting on windy corner where is my old friend? american bum standing in coffee shop door i need a new friend no more sable coats or nights at the opera for you or for me right and proper, sir perfect room temperature the way you like it a good martini like a good faithful puppy should not disappoint but my dear fellow you expect me to believe you have no old friends when i was your age i had conquered the old world and threatened the new but now all is lost in the american night on the gray sidewalk in the rain, the rain outside on the gray sidewalk where are my old friends?

wanderer

by timothy t jones

stranger, as the night unravels let me tell you of my travels through the expanding universes seeking smiles, but finding curses bartender, bring another round for myself and this new friend i've found this strangely silent brooding shade who listens to me unafraid born beneath a dying sun boon companions had i none or teachers sage to form my brain but only solitude and rain within my miserable hut from which all grace and art were shut i wondered what the world could hold which so far left me in the cold i put my foot upon the road i had no password, had no code i had no weapon in my fist no destination in the mist all have is my poor brain which works in ways i can not explain and my flat unlovely feet flopping and slapping down the street and the sky above my head from which all shining stars have fled will it rain, or will it snow? perhaps it is better not to know

chan-e

by timothy t jones

the sun begins to set over a deserted road in the shadow of a deserted gas station which has a faded sign “last chance” the second “c” in “chance” is completely gone a brown paper bag stirs in the dust it is called a “sandwich bag” but there is no sandwich in it where is the person who ate the sandwich? are they happy? are they sad? did they enjoy the sandwich? did they have a coke with it? or maybe an apple or a bag of chips? there is no sign of a chip bag or an apple core or a coke can or anything at all a small animal runs across the road is it running from another animal? no other animal appears the sun sets the dust settles

slow train outside a dirty window

by timothy t jones

who did this ? who did this to us all? * what the ... joe, come here look at this * billy bob! you did this didn't you * that's enough samantha that's enough * aliens say it slow a-li-ens * they hate us they hate us they just do *

the old house

by timothy t jones

back in the day every town had a road and the road ran through the town and on to the next town in the town there was always another road that ran up the hill and on the hill was a house an old house where nobody lived and nobody lived since anybody could remember sometimes the old house had a name like “the old johnson place” and sometimes it did not the windows were always broken and cats crawled around the front yard and looked at the broken windows birds flew around the windows and sometimes bats, at dusk every town had a sheriff and the sheriff would drive up the hill and look at the old house and drive back down the hill again every sheriff had a friend named mike and mike would ask the sheriff anything going on up at the old house? and the sheriff would say, nothing much and mike would say, no kids hanging out, getting into mischief? and the sheriff would say no, not any more they don’t get into mischief now they just sit home and watch tv and mike would say, that’s too bad and the sheriff would nod and they would look up at the sky the darkening sky at the clouds and the old house and the birds and the bats and the moon and the trees back in the day