a clean face and smooth moves

I want to wash my face
until my face has been washed away.

Gone. Faceless.
I will live faceless.

I want to wash my body
until my flesh is gone.

I will go on as bones
and blood.

I want to wash until I feel clean,
but I can never feel clean again.

You cannot wash away the dirt
of having failed your own son.

I spent the days between his death
and his funeral washing. And I was not clean.

I am not clean now.

james lee jobe

Miles Davis, Freddie Freeloader

Who wants to live to be a hundred? What's the point of it? A short life and a merry one is far better than a long life sustained by fear, caution and perpetual medical surveillance.

Henry Miller

I often put links here; poems, jazz, blues, websites I like, etc. The one below is to a very fine poem. I encourage you to click it now and read, even before finishing this post. See if you don't agree. -jlj

Link: Praise Song, a poem by Hafizah Augustus Geter

My father 

      was all about tobacco 

      and smooth whiskey. 

Nice moves on the dance floor 

      and a certain amount of deceit. 

A fine liar 

      with a twisted sense of right and wrong. 

He liked fast cars 

      and long highways, 

music 

      from Hank Williams and Bob Wills, 

      and those pills that let you charge all day 

      and all night. 

And women looking for a good time, 

      oh my, he liked those! 

And what did he get for a son? 

Me, with a notebook and a pencil, 

      and a stack of books to read. 

james lee jobe

When we look into our own hearts and begin to discover what is confused and what is brilliant, what is bitter and what is sweet, it isn’t just ourselves that we’re discovering. We’re discovering the universe. 

Pema Chödrön

Link: If you smell iodine, the captain is nearby, a poem by Lyudmyla Diadchenko

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May patience be our blessing

-jlj