Lost On Ibiza

We found our dream beach
swimming naked in the sea late
afternoon among the chosen of
Spain as sun blazed August heat
balanced the cold salt waves
we were deliriously happy
you and I for hours
until the sun dimmed into
cirrus on the horizon beyond
the horizontal nudes strewn along
the sand

Fatherhood

In '77 my aborted fetus 
was the apotheosis 
of my life as wanderer
from a woman's honeyed virginity 
to an older man's  savoir faire
going from that multi-colored Scream 
in Oslo to Rome's round  bright beam 
pouring over me from Hadrian's oculus 
from a laid-out foam mattress
in Amsterdam sleepless night fucking 
sucking not caring high on the wondrous 
wandering weed to downing a stein 
of local beer in Ludwig of Bavaria's 
mad castle on my 23d 69ing a buff Dane 
on the sand of the Sea of Corinth 
my first immersion in the Holy Land 
wandering sacred Delphi sailing Greek isles 
naked among the naked 
swimming in the blue Aegean

I am father of no one
wandering through all the levels 
of prejudice against a non-breeder
prejudice against my smarts in middle
school prejudice against my hots for
my girlfriend's brother prejudice against
my bedding a 16 year old girl at 24
prejudice against my love for a
reciter of Yeats and Keats he
the image of Don Quixote prejudice
against my living off the fat of my 
live-in girl-friend social worker prejudice 
against all my menages a trois ah
disdain for my black lover of Shakespeare
my oriental lover from Myanmar my teenage 
Zapotec lover in the Zócalo of Oaxaca
my Persian lover hard
in the redwoods of Russian River
prejudice against my wedding the 
lesbian cousin of Winston Churchill
Prejudice for marrying the Man 
from Tennessee  and most stabbing 
prejudice for my going old

"Are you his father
you look a lot alike" 
I love you through thick skin
love you cunts and pricks alike 
from Tōdai-ji in Nara where Chinese sages
in 700 gave gay sex and Buddhism to Japan
from the beaches of New South Wales 
lush with lounging pregnant marsupials
from the bottom of Argentina's blue glaciers
from the top of Earth's most massive mountain 
its cone shaped shadow pointing to infinity
I love you all I love you like
my very own
offspring 


Jack 2/14

Shalako Mana

She turns to the West
On her own wherever
She is placed
Spirit of the Winter
Solstice a snow crystal
At the base of her garment
She has lost one of her seven 
Headdress feathers
She has gotten used for now
To our home in the East
She is a Hopi Kachina
Shalako Mana
Singular unpaired self reliant
Making herself known as
December and days of rain
Darken the sky
We met one winter years
Ago in the Southwest
There was snow in drifts
As I drifted toward her
Shelf where she stood among
Hopi figures and Zuni pottery
Her black bangs and tan pelt
Cape her snowflake
Awakened in me empathy
A kindred spirit
She patiently every winter
Conjures from me the urge
To go to the Western Lands

Jack 12-5-13

All On A November Day

Like all of these colors filling
My senses this late late fall day
You know them plum burgundy
To lemon yellow leaves lifted
By the winter-like wind coming
To bring change like  all of that
Are the feelings bubbling up like
Champagne or marsh gas
With so many images that my
Eyes glaze over like freezing rain
On the green green grass under
The influence of grass yes grass
For as many faces as colors of leaves
Stare forth from the blur of vision
The blond curly haired girl I used to
Shit with in the woods the boy
Who like me rubbed his tiny tiny
Penis against our girlfriend's vagina
From those images arise all the bodies
As on some judgment day that I have 
Held naked in my arms you know
Love love and all its connotations
And revolutions and shared fluids
Flesh and wet kisses vainly attempting
To transcend to rise up like the Holy
Fucking Ghost beyond the earthly
Confines of existence all that all that
Blending into a spectrum of songs
Streaming streaming from the 
World Wide Web world wide until 
We know the ecstasy and the Irony
Of a November Day

Jack 11/22/13

Take From Me Once More

What would you have me say
What lived wisdom do you want
To take from me perhaps one more
Story of love and loss from my
Catalog of the dead
Apropos the Day of the Dead
Approaching zombie like
Or would you prefer to tap
My syrup of philosophy dripping
My grasp of being not having
Trickle down dialectic from the Academy
Seen through Dutch lenses or shaped
By categories of Prussian understanding
Sensations perceptions concepts
From the march of thinkers issuing
Out of my mind prancing like a Pride
Parade Simone and Jean Paul 
Pulling up the rear cigarettes in
Fingers  stained with ink flowing
Down from the tomb of Balzac
Maybe I should say nothing
As you lead me wet into our ocean 
Awash with salt waves you laughing 
Finally emerging into a blaze of sunlight
So hot we cannot resist full embrace
You and I on this beach expanse
Our years together prompting Prospero
To snap us for all eternity

Jack 10/28/13

Hysteria of the Cicadas

Hysteria of the Cicadas

What is it to me
the hysteria of the cicadas
two weeks before the autumn
equinox as they sense the end
of their world what has it
to do with me am I
a cicada in a world of ants
warrior ants scurrying to kill
whatever they can devour
red and black doom for
the songs of insects high
in the boughs of a dying summer

Jack 9-9-13

Love Haiku

monogamy bites
the plural of spouse is spice
poly-paradise


Jameson 8/14/13 (exactly 6 mos. to Valentine's Day)

Arthritic Ego

Arthritic Ego


Is there anything more to say
old age is the demise of both
lad and ego neatly contained
in the very words and dispelled
with finality to the quick
to the joints that once bent
like reeds in the wind
undamaged by the onslaught
of storm and season's change
now inflamed as if in anger
thundering with pain at 
the very idea of age creeping
creepily under the skin
to the bone 
as I become stiff as the
Buddha on the porch
impervious 
my knuckles touching as if
in holy meditation knowing
nonetheless I shall be no more
alive than the seven icons
adorning my home
denying what I could never quite
the ego the lad in me the flash
of lightning I thought was my soul

Jameson 8-12-13

coalescence

Coalescence
Why did we not meet sooner
When for so many events
We were there together
How much music did we both enjoy
Together same place
Dancing in the same space
If you were an early riser
Why did I not see you in the morning
We took our breakfast
Broke our omelets right there
You were under the table over and
Over from eggs to waffles to bacon
Fried crisp
We met as the blush of your
Rose rose up as I held you
Warm in the warm rain
Washing us clean bringing
Smiles to our lips as I caressed
Your head our blood pulsing
Toward each other mingling
In an intimacy deep as a well
Not Heaven not Hell
A Pagan tub where Diogenes dwelled
Blessing our tumescence


Jack 7/12/13

Three Boys

Three Boys
Brimming with energy three boys
could be eighteen athletic friendly 
like any kids only better looking
blond black and reddish shocks of hair
smiling showing strong abs biceps
slender as if from swimming
they hug and pat backs shoulders
taking jerseys off they regard each other
they undress touching as they do
helping themselves as buddies would
only caressing as their cocks swell
as they give each other swell hand jobs
easing to a firm bed where hands become 
mouths sucking cock kissing yet never
ceasing to appear full of energy eagerness
enjoyment rotating from thought to act
giving each taking each in turn hand head
kiss and finally hard fuck all having a go
top and bottom enhanced by rimming 
or gentle finger probing now and again
blowing our third boy while being fucked or 
having delectable round balls caressed licked 
while penetrating still conveying familiarity
the irony of affection in porn
of friendliness of camaraderie all three
consorts ever verging on liberté, égalité, 
fraternité until one of the mates in rapture
pulls his cock from inside one other
and in a  perfectly coordinated triumph 
of gymnastics he ejaculates 
comes the second boy comes the third 
in perfect blending spurts of sperm
perfect spurts of pleasure one keen kid  
scoops from his belly and licks 
sucking his finger as they all smile lovingly
touch and kiss once more convincingly 
convincing me
I have never had sex 

Jack Jameson 6/12/13

On Listening to Beethoven's Final Piano Sonata

Walls

Walls

It was an urge other than desire
that undid our walls
walls that go up from the day
we are told take not candy
from strangers walls that we 
slip into every morning guarding
us from the gaze from the touch
of others who must remain separate
no matter how polite and warm the
talk our daily intermingling never
can reach the essence we protect
or else
or else we scorn the taboos
ubiquitous iniquities that grow like
wild hair follicle by follicle
as we mature into our private lives
yet I reached over and touched
your beard letting the rubicund glow
into my fingers  as our first  breach
of the palisade became a beating 
at the gate until we found ourselves 
so close it hurt 
our hurting so different yours and mine 
enduring we removed impediments 
stone by stone until we  had what we both
needed 
to be in each other's life
whether touching each other there
beyond and through the walls
or seeing as only we could
the connections invisible to others
Your shock of vermilion and mine of bone


Jack 5/19/13

Irrational numbers and the end of time

Irrational Numbers and the End of Time

Is it not 1969 am I yet on the sunshine
acid trip  LSD with the touch of strychnine 
from the sacred tree am I yet your lover 
the boy you give a hand job  
never being one for subtleties 
am I not in my bath today still swishing 
on acid with all the blood and bath water 
intermingling as pulsing hairs on my arm 
sway in the waves of the effervescent water 
no noticeable difference until I gaze into the
looking glass at that wizened old wizard's face
that white beard wild hairs every which way
underneath it all the same smile of bliss beyond
hallucination as when we were peaking and
you were coming simultaneously with me
is it not now is it not right now
are this aging man's tears not the same as yours 
twenty-two a year older than I 
tripping as you hold my cock erect
not knowing what to do with it 
the way he caressed me my elder lover '69
for the past and the future are illusions
I knew it on acid and I know it on wine
there is only the present moment
love manifests itself timeless in our kiss
yours and mine your uneasiness my uneasiness
your joy my joy and all the quest for permanence
when permanence is what we've had all along 
as we let go of the delusion of time 
irrational numbers dissolving as we admit
an identity in you in me your hand in mine
eye to eye head to head song to song

Jack 5-11-13

Green

Everything in this morning's sunlight is green 
except the purple maple tree 
resplendent in its own unique color 
surrounded by a deep verdure penetrating 
my memory this morning for when last I 
gazed over this yard the azaleas had 
not bloomed but now what's left is as faded
as brown oak pollen swelling the gutters
and Japan is still the East as different
from us as the maple is from the oaks
not my Western mind 
which Japan has nonetheless changed 
just as this spring has changed everything

Jack 4/24/13

Three Squirrels

Three Squirrels

Ice cold rain washes in the Solstice
Winter wind waves through the
Tentacles of black leafless trees
Reaching toward the silver sky
As three squirrels dart up and down
The network of entangled limbs
Fucking
There is no better way to say it
Fucking in the rain all three
Falling over and over one another
Chasing and interchanging who leads the
Charge
Until they stop and swing
Over and over one another nose to ass
Then  doggy style no way of discerning
Gender in the wet pelts of their furry
Fucks
As I sip hot Earl Grey tea and eat tuna fish
Wondering if what they feel
Is true love

Jack 12-20-12

Easter '13

it comes 'round with cherry blossoms
a naked young man impaled on a cross
eros and thanatos like sweat glands
blood dripping from his punctured side
and all the absurdity of rabbits and eggs
birth and death and uncomprehending ears
poking up to hear the hymns of sorrow sin
and loss and regain as if it is all one mad
dream with you pinching my nipples at
last at last opening your mouth to me
I thanatos and you eros dripping sensuality
more fragrance and smell filling me with you
as Jesus dies and doesn't die and flies away 
to the make-believe world of two billion dollar
Popes and capitalism being spelled
c-h-r-i-s-t-i-a-n-i-t-y
until the winter fires and burning heretics
leave us alone and we make our own
sweet bitter equinox

Jack ---Easter 13

Haiku on first seeing a photo of the Kamogawa

winter turns to spring

Kamogawa's waters go

as goes my ego




Jack Jameson 3/31/13

infection haiku

bronchitis grabs hold
stabs every breath emitting
spring sonata coughs

Abandonment Haiku

absence of touch aches
spoken words of love broken  
bones of spring kisses

No Blame

no blame
just pain
three years in vain
to make a song
you got it wrong
you based your facts
on heroes gone
joys on the road
joys of making 

you thought
we thought
we were the 
Beats
And the silver ring 
you flung away
with the necklace 
and the peyote

we were lovers
we were lost 
our ideals morphed
to jokes and laughter
disturbing dreams
and still there
is no song
just pain
no blame

Jack Jameson 3/13