flight 101

flight 101


long journey back
too far
if it were my will
still I have come
to answer your invitation
and share a repast in the garden
take in views of things that have grown
because of our work
though we now labor separately
I suppose that there is no danger
in recounting happy hours
lovely days spent with you
but such a distance in time
we must fly

JRS
9/6/2009

touch of Rye

touch of Rye

she watches over me
sweeps up the debris
from last night’s terrible dream
brings my morning meal
sets out the garments
that will keep my body warm
Rye works to save my soul
with no mention of my light-less eyes

JRS
8/27/2009

collecting

collecting

in the spring I feel more alive
this year things had a later start
still I have enjoyed the beauty of early flowers
and seeing people
who seemed to have faded away
with last fall’s colors
ghostly forms call me
come drink of old memories
and like the past they move by
my joy comes when the machine
collects the light from young new faces
today my camera goes with me
out walking to captured images
for next year’s memories

JRS
8/20/2009

portraits

Rye

Rye

no doubt you are my muse
I have not forgotten any part
of our brief encounter
the warm embrace cool dismissal

I would not have you believe
that my life was empty
after you sent me away
true enough some pain was known

after a time tender women came
with provisions for my heart
taught me to love without fear
gave me moments to savor

allowed me the space
to store softly focused memories
and in this place I have kept you alive
even though when we pass on the street

I know to you I am dead

JRS
6/2/2009

Writing poetry is my new love and making photographs seems to have been a part of me since I can remember. I have never stopped thinking about the 1960’s. For the most part my latest projects are sparked by those memories. Writing poems about how close we came, but still we missed the touch of love. Even at this late date I find myself looking for that face to reflect the soft light of my day dreams. This summer it seems that I have returned to the scene, the meeting place and venue of lost hope. Though I am on my own walking these old streets I’m not the only one. When I go out walking I’m often drawn to that part of town where my muse can be seen mostly imagined sometimes real. I saw her today going along like a ghost in the daylight as if searching for some vital part long lost. I am certain that it is not me because one day her eyes fell on me and went dark.

time machine

it seems that more often than not some of us are trying to get back to when it was happening. Right now I find myself digging around in folders for images from the 60s and 70s. Next week I will be taking part in a yard sale to help the Read Street Alliance bring back the Read Street Festival.
May 30th at 9am I will be on the corner of Park Ave and Eager St. I will have books from Blind Lady Press to sell and maybe a few things from my house that don't get much use anymore.

sunday

Like most people I feel more alive in the spring and this year things are off to a good start. To date I have enjoyed the beauty of early flowers and seeing people who seemed to have faded away with the fall colors. Ghostly forms move by and call me to drink of old memories. The real joy comes when my machine collects the light from young new faces. A few days ago my camera went with me walking and we captured some images for next year’s memories.

sunday walk

it is a little late this year, but we seem to be finding the new life that come with spring. went out with my camera a few days ago and here is part of what I saw.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7uo8UNrZjI

park near mulberry

Park near Mulberry

outside the head shop
Irene the hippie girl
told fortunes
did tarot readings

when asking for your star sign
she spoke with an unknown accent
though her mother tongue was English
passersby feared for her safety

she sometimes stepped into traffic
always pulled back in time
turned to look at reflections
in the bookstore window

down on Mulberry street
Irene played
at a life of her own making
dreams on sugar cubes

JRS
12/3/2008

worship of women

worship of women

outside a temple in the dark-wood
gazed in as she mixed a spell
an iron bowl to keep the flames
where she dropped hearts and feathers

wish I believed in magic
then I could ask
for a potion
to provide my heart with defense

wish I believed in magic
then I could know the reason why
I still live even with this hole
this gaping hole in my breast

JRS
3/19/2009

just to know her name

just to know her name


from every angle
he liked the look of her
to him
sounds she made were like music
and that smile shamed the sun
when she turned to go
he was at a loss
for the right action
if he could find the words
that would give her knowledge
of the drummer tapping in his breast
permit her to overlook
the hunger in his eyes
what moves could he make
to insure that
they would not part still strangers


JRS

about Jacob and BLP

About Jacob and Blind Lady Press

Blind Lady Press joins with the Ransom Note Poets on the last Wednesday of each month to share an evening of reading and fellowship with other writers and poetry lovers. Ransom Note Poets is a small group of poets and poetry lovers meeting on the first and third Sundays at Café Latte’da 1704 Aliceanna st .

Blind Lady Press came about in 2006 after I completed my first chapbook They Called the Wind Mariah. Before writing my first book of poetry photography was my passion. Photographing women is still a great joy to me as well as the images that come from memories. With my camera and keyboard it seems that my two loves have come together to tell stories of the downing of the age. At this point Blind Lady Press has seven titles and three authors.

I can’t say that I have divided my time between creating and sharing my work that well. As do most artists I work when the muse calls me and I go out to read and share as often as possible. Meetings with the Ransom Note Poets and a workshop with Poets Ink is one way for me to get a feel for how to move ahead with my art. I have just been approved for membership in the Maryland Writers Association. I hope to find some links to help in marketing my work.

Soon I will post link and information about meetings and readings.

it would be great to fine a new muse

it has been some time since I have been able to work with my muse, maybe there is a new one in waiting.

Silver coin
(what would my fate be)


joined by my defender
with an uneasy smile
a soft look in his eyes
voicing no words
he left me with the judgment

before going out
he took form his purse
a small piece of silver
turned to me grasped my hand
therein he pressed the coin

I had always known
my road would end at the block

I must answer of my sins
what things I have done
could speak of what was broken
like wings or hearts
tell you that I have stolen trust and crushed butterflies

the crimes I have done
with intent
souls now in dark places
because of my undoing
this alone enough to send me
to my destiny

the crime that takes me
to the platform
was without intent

to protect a friend
sought a foe of my making
took a bright shield
and dressed myself as justice

charged into battle on my call
laying waste warriors
sent by the prince of the night
in my zeal to slay demons

precious things were broken
soft tissue deeply gashed

rage in a pool of blood from the innocent
I have done this thing
no evil intent
none the less I am here to pay


JRS
4/11/2006

armed for demons

put on my armor strapped my blade
now dressed to do battle--- honorable cause
the mission had been sat
this day was for killing demons

warrant was signed and in my hand
the power to kill all of these green-eyed devils
and leave them lay --- where ever found

began my search in the valley
continued looking over the hills
these were the places where I had seen them
performing their work out in the open

after a search in known places
it seemed that my demons were doing no work
found a place where they sometimes lived
this too was empty

the hunt took me far and wide
to places light and dark
but my demons were out of sight
they are very cunning these demons of mine
they know places to hide ---yes places
where no man will venture to look
deep into my heart they have moved
a place where they know --- I will not see them

about to give up the quest --- and then
I saw your demon
being armed for demons I would have my kill
rushing to his line the battle was joined
I sat upon your demon landing blow after blow
the fight raged on into the dark of night
he would not fall --- he suffered no wounds from my blade

immune to my warrant your demon was unharmed
so in my day of power --- I killed no demons

JRS 4/10/2006
REV 4/11/2009