stir-fried with green beans

homage to frederick kiesler, by robert rauschenberg

Offer your heart to heal their wounds, to fade their scars.

Open the borders, open your house,

open your life to them - I will open mine.

Share the food, share the medicine, share the earth.

Immigrants, pilgrims. Their load is heavy,

and their souls are so weary.

What little they own, they carry with them,

and their dead have been left behind.

Will you not stand and be counted?

Will you not help to push open the iron door? 

james lee jobe

Emptiness is bound to bloom, like hundreds of grasses blossoming.

Dōgen Zenji

Washed and stir-fried with green beans.

Turning the soil in the garden,
there was a surprise;
some forgotten white radishes.
Washed and stir-fried with green beans,
onion, and asparagus,
dusted with fresh ground pepper,
dinner had an extra blessing tonight.
A little gift from the earth.
Isn't life wonderful?

james lee jobe

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I sometimes still feel young

you arrive without moving so much as a foot. you speak without opening your mouth. you do not open your eyes, and yet you see it all. even though you lead the way, friend, you also follow. like death follows life. like day follows night and night follows day. like the world circling the sun while the moon circles the world, the craft of science, the craft of life. 

james lee jobe 

ACROSS KANSAS

--by William Stafford 

My family slept those level miles

but like a bell rung deep till dawn

I drove down an aisle of sound,

nothing real but in the bell,

past the town where I was born.

Once you cross a land like that

you own your face more: what the light

struck told a self; every rock

denied all the rest of the world.

We stopped at Sharon Springs and ate--

My state still dark, my dream too long to tell.

awake way past midnight

through the long night the starlight

lays soft across the window

is it any wonder that in my heart

I sometimes still feel young

james lee jobe

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in love with the blue light of the moon

zhen-zhen jobe

the pilgrim moves with a gentle grace

when the night has come

easily the pilgrim lifts

his heavy eyelids

-georg trakl

his eyelids are the door to the other side

the astral plane

his flesh is the iron that the angels beat

into a fine steel for swords

swords that fight the darkness,

swords that shine like a kind thought

and behind those eyelids

his eyes are starlight, moonlight

sunlight

dreams

compassion

and mercy

the pilgrim moves with a gentle grace

through this world and the next

through the days and nights of time

he moves and he does not stop moving

he does not return

james lee jobe

Pain is not a punishment; pleasure is not a reward.

Pema Chödrön

imagine a hermit who sleeps in daytime and stays awake all night

there is a hermit that is in love with the blue light of the moon
in love with the diamonds of the stars
and in love with those footprints that deer leave in the snow

high up on the mountain the nights pass like years
and the years pass like centuries

the sun sets
the moon rises
and an old man strokes his long white beard
as he gets up from his worn out mat
time is his blanket

now compare your life to his
what do you love like he loves the moonlight

james lee jobe

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the tossing of the rose

the surrendering of the kingdom.

handle a large kingdom with as gentle a touch as if you were cooking a small fish.
-lao tzu

this nakedness: there is a realness to it.
the mystery is solved. at last.
crooked nights when it was long in our thoughts.
quiet days when the mind was empty
and you think of the body of the other.
what to touch, what to taste.
a sacred thing, the act of it.
and now the kingdom is offered to you,
and you, in turn, offer up a kingdom as well.
the dye is cast. the rose is tossed.
the mind is empty and the kingdoms are surrendered.
nakedness. nothingness. every beginning is new.

james lee jobe

An awake heart is like a sky that pours light.

-Hafez

I choose to believe. I don't care what you do. 

why are the rivers and seas lords of the waters?
-lao tzu

the sea? the sea does exactly what it wants. you know that.
the river is subtle, changing course once in a while on a whim.

my eyes are blue seas, not a river. (I just had to say that.)
great white sharks are circling, so swim at your own risk.

is there hope? of course there is. faith has been left up to us.
I choose to believe. I don't care what you do. It's a funny life.

why are the rivers and seas lords of the waters?
why are the mountains and hills lords of the land?

everyone and everything needs someone
or something that they can look up to.

I look up at the birds when they fly, but by god,
when they walk they look up at me.

james lee jobe

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the rose is tossed

welcome to the fascist states of america.

those who would take over the earth and shape it to their will never, I notice, succeed. -lao tzu

I am eating a fine, red pear, perfectly ripe,
while the fascists decide how many socks a person may own,
and if everyone must pray kneeling or standing.
soon, all the men will part their hair on the same side.
soon, they will announce when the women should all be pregnant.
everyone will wear the same uniform and be punctual.
I am eating a fine, red pear, perfectly ripe,
while some white men raise a flag that looks like a dollar bill.
next the money flag will be behind the altar with jesus.
eventually the money will suffocate them,
or perhaps jesus will toss out the money-changers again.
I am eating a fine, red pear, perfectly ripe,
it is delicious, and I slice off bite after bite
with a pocket knife. taste buds. they're a marvelous thing,
aren't they? so is having a choice.

james lee jobe

Always hold true to your own perception. Your own self is your main teacher.

Jeff Bridges

Banksy, street art

the surrendering of the kingdom.

handle a large kingdom with as gentle a touch as if you were cooking a small fish. -lao tzu

this nakedness: there is a realness to it.
the mystery is solved. at last.
crooked nights when it was long in our thoughts.
quiet days when the mind was empty
and you think of the body of the other.
what to touch, what to taste.
a sacred thing, the act of it.
and now the kingdom is offered to you,
and you, in turn, offer up a kingdom as well.
the dye is cast. the rose is tossed.
the mind is empty and the kingdoms are surrendered.
nakedness. nothingness. every beginning is new.

james lee jobe

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an emptiness that lasts until tomorrow

capital bridge, sacramento river.

for a tall boat, the bridge rises up
shape-shifting into a huge letter H.
traffic stands by like children waiting
for the ice cream on a hot summer evening.
the children are excited, the boat slides
past. the letter H has once again mastered
the wide river, swift and cold and powerful.

james lee jobe

With no underrobes,

bare butt suddenly exposed--

a gust of spring wind

     Buson (1715-1783)

"Interview"

1955

Robert Rauschenberg

rain on the roof    

an emptiness that lasts until tomorrow and then some     

a kind of silence that can be carried around in a cup     

inside the house a man and a woman move in quiet rooms     

they are whispers of themselves     

of who they once were     

the house is rather dark     

there is more shadow than light     

the rain lasts far into the night

     james lee jobe

Bodhisattva Prayer for Humanity

May I be a guard for those who need protection

A guide for those on the path

A boat, a raft, a bridge for those who wish to cross the flood

May I be a lamp in the darkness

A resting place for the weary

A healing medicine for all who are sick

A vase of plenty, a tree of miracles

And for the boundless multitudes of living beings

May I bring sustenance and awakening

Enduring like the earth and sky

Until all beings are freed from sorrow

And all are awakened.

      Shantideva, Indian Buddhist sage 700 A.D.  

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have I done anything worth doing

"death you missed me again"
I was thinking this as I peeled myself up
off of the street after the bike crash
both wrists and one elbow twisted and sprained
the other elbow fractured
one knee busted
but not my head and not my spine
the summer sun lit up the green in the oak trees
and across the street some kids played baseball in the park
a lovely day
"I'm counting this one as a win" I said
wiggling my fingers and hands
to see if anything there was broken
it hurt like hell but I laughed a few times
as I slowly pedaled home

-james lee jobe

What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?

Jean Jacques Rousseau

I go to sleep early and wake after midnight, wanting the feel of fresh air. Outside, clouds cover the moon like a child that is hiding a precious toy. Standing there, I consider my life. Have I done anything that was worth doing? I know who I am, but does anyone else know me? An owl nearby seems to agree, asking me, “Who?” “James,” I answer, and turn to go inside.

james lee jobe

When hungry, eat your rice; when tired close your eyes. Fools may laugh at me, but wise men will know what I mean.

-Linji Yixuan

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calling bullshit

                    you say you are a poet because the moon was in cancer on the night your poor old momma squirted you out but I call bullshit as what makes you a poet is writing poems forever even when you are ancient and long in years and decades with the reading lamp shining on your gray hair

james lee jobe 

hello are you now on the path
you have always wanted to walk
is there still kindness in your skin
in the part of your hair
when you sleep are the dreams
more real than waking life
and what of the feel of steel
the kiss of wood on your face
that ache in the small of your back
that ache in your knees
is that where you whisper your true name
the name from your very first day
will you whisper it again right now
to me

james lee jobe

louie 'satchmo' armstrong & one of his 4 wives - in egypt

The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.

Samuel Beckett

continuum

how old is my valley
millions of years I suppose

how old is my iris
just a few weeks

one grows from the other
time means nothing

life goes on
with us or without us

james lee jobe

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scattering seed

day is over
night has dropped its blanket
over the cool damp earth
time is nothing
just mist on the field
that is left for grazing
time is silence
a road with no traffic and no end
emptiness
a darkness with no rules
and no reward
the flower moon rises
spring is passing by

james lee jobe

There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.

Matsuo Bashō

manifest destiny    fathers who scattered seed and left no fields fallow     guns and slavery    mothers who rose before dawn and cut wood as well as any man     children who knew work the way stars know clouds from looking down    generations of labor    sweat and early death    rape and genocide    the woods gave way to axe and fire    beasts and natives died for the greed and want of the settlers    a land exhausted    rivers polluted     people jaded     my country 'tis of thee    sweet land of liberty    for some    just for some 

james lee jobe

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humiliating our political leaders

you wanted to go home    whatever that means    so you asked the strangers who only exist in your dreams how to go home    you got a variety of directions and instructions    none of which worked    when you finally found a way home it wasn't home anymore    what changed    you did of course    listen    home is not an address     it's in your mind and heart    what's wrong with where you are right now   

james lee jobe 

bamboo ticking in wind speaks 

in dark isolate rooms I listen 

demons and gods fill my frail ears 

so blurred and faint 

I can't tell them apart 

year-end leaves dry rain falling 

scatter 

autumn clothes

thin cloud 

my sick bones slice through things 

clean 

though my bitter chant 

still makes a poem 

I'm withering autumn ruin 

strength following twilight away 

trailed out 

this fluttering thread of life 

no use saying it's tethered 

to the very source 

of earth's life-bringing change.

-Meng Chiao   751-814 CE

I have no desire to humiliate our political leaders    I just feel the need to correct them on everything    very loudly    and on television    with political poems     or even just with this one 

james lee jobe

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james 

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following the absurd trail

color inside of the lines 

place the child inside of the box 

and close the lid securely 

lock the clasp 

whisper to her through the box  

doesn't she want to be liked 

doesn't she want to be pretty 

and popular 

dress only this way 

and speak only that way 

be skinny 

color inside of the fucking lines 

or we will eat you 

-james lee jobe 

street art in kobe, japan

can you point me to the creek? 

if you took 

all the so-called intellectuals in this town 

and laid them out longways 

end to end 

head to foot 

they wouldn't reach halfway 

to the sweet part of putah creek 

you could add all their advanced degrees 

and still fall short 

let's try this 

we'll follow their absurd trail as far as we can 

and from there we'll just listen 

for the sound of rushing water 

-james lee jobe

vincent van gogh, field of poppies

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James 

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