Whether Or Not Trees Believe

As the rain poured

its sound against

unforgiving ground, 

the clouds pretended

they knew the way back
to sunshine,
lightnings thunder
told lies heard by
unbelieving
trees
while
leaves leave
their
unwanted
homes
uncovered
and soon
whether
one wants it
or not,
the skies
make us
cry as though
we knew
who made
them.

Jim Hime©2015

Common American Tragedy

The cool air dank and misty, cars flying by at sixty,

Wrapped up in jackets still warm from trailer homes

Walked from to this waiting area for the school bus

To arrive on time or not, but we were there just 

In the nick of time to see that most common
American tragedy.

We loved the sixties for cars
As kids we drove them in our minds eye,
Across pages of tablets intended
For academic pursuits we drew
Life into the beasts and the muscles
Power of engines protruding
Through metal cut out of hoods
Uncovering the burgeoning blowers,
Blowing our friends minds with
Adroit adaptations of the commoner
Cars that our parents drove
Like the two that collided
Before our eyes
On that early morning
Ending of lives
Before our virgin eyes crying,
Limbs and people strewn across
A bloody highway at the entrance
To Ole South Trailer Park
Where we waited
For the school bus to arrive
On time or not.

Jim Hime @2014

I Wish

I wish that I could not cry 

but I am not afraid 

enough to stop this 

torrent of tears 

bleeding as it were 

from eyes that 

have seen too much.

I wish I could not laugh 

because I cannot stand 

to be merry 

in the midst of this 

dearth, this evil 

that abounds

in the sound 

of my hearing.

I wish that I could not speak 

and tell the tales 

of woe and misery 

that complete my 

existence that 

no one loved 

or cared to see.

Jim Hime @2014

Placid Face Lake

Which song should push forth in this night
In the midst of foggy shores along lakes divine.
The placid face of it shall surround us
Inside minds of hazy dreams
When the wind blows
Its knowing waves
Retreating and advancing
The sound lapping at our belonging
Dreadful darkness advances it’s ending
As the moon pulls tears from our faces
We are pushed you know
We are pulled
To this place of waters placid face
Deepness seeping up slowly
Clouds lose their luminosity
To the emergent suns revealing
For us this meaning.

Jim Hime ©2014

Loves Nothing

Every day I come 

to this page 

in my life and 

before it turns 

I look intently
at the emptiness
it reveals without
words to express
its loneliness and
boredom.

Alone, therefore,
the page without
its words, without
its longing or desires
says nothing,
expresses nothing,
lies about nothing,
imagines nothing,
implores nothing,
escapes nothing,
loves nothing.

Jim Hime @2015

Hard Times

You know

what a poem is

I wish someone 

would tell me

I have seen
lights turn
to dark
I have found
money in
the cracks
I tripped 
and fell on
hard times.
Writing is
no way to
survive
it just
makes it
seem like
it makes
sense.


Jim Hime ©2015

Hegel Hegel Hegel

Hegel, Hegel, Hegel;

What must I say of thee?

To know, to know truly,

The shape of a tree.

In Winter the frame revealed,
By Spring clothed by it's leaves,
In Summer fully formed,
It maybe in Fall felled.
To keep me warm,
To warm my bones,
Bones formed in my Mother's womb,
She now long gone,
The dust she became,
The dust she always was.
Life moves on changing
Geist flows on languid
What you see is not what you get,
Hegel, Hegel, Hegel,
You were true once,
But no more,
Superseded, suspended, supplanted,
Reprimanded,
By smaller minds,
Like mine,
Aufheben to you,
Always there negated,
We stare at thee Hegel,
Like the man hanged on a tree,
Only yours felled by me,
Your words like the leaves,
Raked into a pile,
And burned like your bones,
Kindled by hell's fire,
Keeping mine warm,
In the warm afterglow.
I drink a stout gestalt to thee
Hegel, Hegel, Hegel.

Jim Hime c1999