Gallery - Jack Shiner

TWO NEW QUESTIONS

For every answer
there are two new questions

Waves of change
these questions bring

And there are as many questions
as there are grains of sand
in the seven seas
And as many as there are stars
in the deep skies of night
and perhaps more so

Questions are the foundation of learning
Answers are the foundation of knowing

To learn and to know
is to strive and to live
to exist
to be

Choose a star to ponder
Sift the shifting sands through your fingers

For each question
may you find understanding
and for each answer
may you find
two new questions

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TALKING OVER BREAKFAST

I read a quote one day
of the poet William Butler Yeats
who said something like:
“A poet cannot write
as if talking to someone
over breakfast“
But I would beg to differ

Being able to write
as if talking to someone over breakfast
is exactly why poets like Walt Whitman
Carl Sandburg and Charles Bukowski
were so widely read
and continue to be on the shelves of bookstores
even today, years after their deaths

Telling it like it is
No fluff
No double-meanings
No mysterious passages
Just straightforward
cut-to-the-chase honesty
as if you were sitting there
right across the table from them

And I think poetry largely lost its audience
precisely because poets did not write
as if they were talking to someone over breakfast

They became so esoteric and unreadable
that no one cared to read what they wrote
except other poets

(Talk about shooting yourself in the foot!)

Well—anyway—I’ve got to run—
But maybe we can get together
and discuss it all further sometime—
talking over breakfast

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INSIDE US ALL

Inside us all
dwells a feeling of anger
of the way things generally are—
War
The cost of living
The corrupt regularity of politics
Injustice

Inside us all
is a hidden sense of hopelessness
that nothing will change—
Oh, well—
We will shrug our shoulders
turn away
and accept it all as the way it is

Inside us all
Is the power to change—
A sense of right and wrong
A sense that good deeds can be done
A sense that peace can prevail
That the world can be well—
fair—
just

Inside us all
we know that what is evil
corrupt
unfair
unjust
is only a shadow
A shadow that can fade
dissolve and disappear
when bathed in light

And the light is there—
shining brightly
warmly—
inside us all

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DREAMS

I find it a righteous
and wonderful thing
to believe in the magic of dreams
To see something as it could be—
not just as it is
or seems

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SAME OLD BLUES

I turned on the news
for the first time in weeks
and was not surprised to find
it was still the same old blues

Government in gridlock

The Republicans blaming the Democrats
The Democrats blaming the Republicans
and strangely enough
they’re both right—
It’s all of them who are to blame
for not compromising
and working together daily
for the good of us all

And we too are to blame
for we elected them

And—
as for those of you who didn’t vote—
you are to blame, as well—
The outcome could have been different

Disasters
floods
earthquakes
famine
war
mass shootings—
stock market upturns
unemployment downturns
and partly cloudy skies
with the usual coastal fog—
no chance of rain tomorrow
expect the normal seasonal temperatures
and a five-day forecast showing strong signs
of a predictable continuation—
of the same old blues

More About Jack Shiner Here

DELICATELY

I long for times to be less tense
to travel
to wander along our way
Each day, a new adventure

To pause—
if we wish

For hours—
if need be—
just to ponder the light and shadows
as they move and meander
and melt into a sunset’s glow

Feel the breeze—
delicious

Listen as the evening fades
and the night descends—
delicately

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POETIC ADVICE

Try—
once in a while—
to sneak in a little time
to write a poem while at work—
on the clock

It may very well be
the only possible way
you’ll ever get paid for doing so

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CROSSROADS

Where life ceases to be solely born
of anguish and oppression
and springs forth a source of understandings
pure and genuine:
this is the crossroads of a civilization

And we stand at the crossroads
of those feelings

We stand at the crossroads
of this civilization

It is we in the Present
we of this very moment
who must decide
what will be for our children

It is for them
and primarily for them
that we should make these decisions

It is for them
and us
and all that surrounds us
that we should live this very moment
this sparkle in the sand
this feeling from within
Peace
peace
flowing from within

I shall never tire of life
or the challenges it provides me

May a drop of wisdom
touch my forehead
May it saturate deep within
and may it penetrate—
my soul

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TO TRULY CREATE

They can teach you
Counterpoint and Harmony
and how the Majors and minors relate
But they cannot teach you how to feel
and you must feel—
to truly create

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AS YOU TURN THE PAGE

Beauty—
like this before me—
had to be pulled down
and pounded and pressed
to become this paper I write upon

And further processed and prepared
to become this page
words are printed upon

From the placid beauty of the forest
to the pleasing, peaceful touch
whispering between your fingers—
as you turn the page

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WINTER MEADOW

A blank sheet of paper

virgin
pristine
barren…

…barren as a winter meadow
freshly covered
with silent snow

I’ll walk into this meadow
leaving tracks for you to follow—
and for me to find—
my way back home

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EMBRACING SHADOWS

My purpose in life
has blown away with the wind
never to return—
(but it will)

The wind circles around and around
The tide goes out
and comes in again
The snow falls from the clouds
melts on the mountains
and returns to the clouds once more

Sometimes it feels
like trying to make ends meet
while the ends keep moving
farther and farther apart

Or like trying to carry water
uphill
with a sieve

Or like trying to make a sculpture
from air

Or trying to embrace a shadow

And I’ve been embracing shadows
and sculpting air
for quite some time now

And I’ll be embracing shadows
and sculpting air
for some time to come

There is frustration
and satisfaction in knowing—
it is what I do best

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NOTE: Thanks for taking the time to visit my website. I hope you enjoyed reading some poetry. -Jack