PoeticGymArt
Many GymPoems On One Page by Jim Nasium

The Paper Stand
A Poem About A Rainbow
A Poem About Jamaica
Elysium Fields
The Local Art Show
They Will Remember Me
How's It Feel
She's Insane
Cast Upon Her Island
On Line
Your Madness
A Trip Thru The Night
My Doom
My Wash
The Phone
The Train
When He Gets Older
What If Everyone Looked Like Me
Ten Again
All Of Them, They All Know My Name




A Poem About A Rainbow


I walked and walked for country miles
knowing it would rain, all the while
searching out shelter from the storm
some place safe, some place warm

All at once to my surprise
right there in front'a my eyes
was a place I will never forget
a place to stay warm, and not get wet

I went slowly into this cave I found
and carefully started looking all around
found myself some fire wood
started a fire, like a good camper should

the sky broke open and it started to pour
I sat my the fire just doing more and more
of the stuff I was down there for
this land of plenty, this land of the poor

I sat there by the fire a day and a night
I felt fine, everything was all right
and by the light, of the camp fire bright
I made finger puppets on the walls

It rained and rained and the sky got real dark
off in the distance I could hear a dog bark
then the rain cloud darkness over head
was parted by the Andean Sun

The sky was lit with colors bright
and even though it was raining I thought I might
try to touch the sky, now one big rainbow

I had been here for a few years
saw many a storm, shed many a tears
caused by the wind and pouring rain
in The Andes, playing the farmer's game

But that day when the rain was almost done
and the black sky was parted by the sun
I will never ever forget
what I saw before me

The whole freaking sky was one big rainbow
I saw it, it's true, ya gotta know
I never ever saw anything before like this show
and to this day still never have

This poem is about one big rainbow
that I saw once when I used to go
to the land that's still the same
as it was since the beginning of time
©1998 Jim Nasium

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A Poem About Jamaica


It was back in the early 70's
when I took my pen name...
and things were different then
things were real laid back
the music was reggae mon
and there was Jah Iration
I Iree Height's
things are different still even now
in the small hippie town
an underground community
called Negril

Thing's were different then
every one was "balling" every one else
they were all running the around place
blown out'a their minds
red eyed strangers naked on white beaches
that went on for miles
seven to be exact
that seemed like forever to me
for I am not a stranger here
I am not a tourist

I would sit there
on the western tip of that island
and the setting sun painted
the water and beach for me
every night
and I sat there
red eyed myself
I tried to copy what I saw Him make
"just for me" I would tell myself

As fast as I could
with my salt water colors paints
I would paint
by the light of the setting sun,
and rising moon behind me
in the east just above my home
that sits there still
on the top of that hill
called Monkey Hill
in the red ground district
of the island that still floats
to this day, in my heart

and if you think that I have forgotten any of it
you are wrong...

I could go on forever
telling tales of the golden days of my youth
but why, I'd only bore you...
and then you wanna know if they are true
©1999 Jim Nasium

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Elysium Fields


I stand here and I am frightened
again, because I am alone
I am with out my family
my friends, or my home

I stand here completely naked
yet not ashamed at all
no longer old and bent over
I fell young and can stand tall

I see that others are out there
on the horizon of this new plane
I do not know any of them
none of them seem to have a name

I see the others walking
I wonder where do they go
I wonder would they wait for me
and maybe could they show

me what it is that I should do
now that I found myself here
I don't understand what went wrong
none of what happened is very clear

I see that others are out there
on the horizon of this new place
I do not know any of them
none of them have a face

and so I start my journey
alone, in these Elysium Fields
I have no idea where I am going
or what this journey will yield

every thing is so perfect
everything is so pure
I wonder do I belong here
I am not really sure...
©1998 Jim Nasium

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The Local Art Show


Tonight's the night
a suit and tie
something wild
to catch the eye

after all I am an artist
and I am showing my work
and every one else will be dressed up
and I don't wanna look like a jerk

but now I wonder
what will I wear
should I shave again
maybe even wash my hair

red pants, white coat
navy blue shirt
a lots'a cologne
cause I plan to flirt

now I wonder,
what color tie should I wear
and if the reporters
will all be there

something loud,
or something conservative
to go with my black and white shoes
cause large is how I live

maybe something day glow green
something wild to make the scene
at the local art show tonight
to bad ya can't make it, it'll be out'a site

I plan to walk in
and catch every eye
and turn each head
I'm just that kind'a guy
©1998 Jim Nasium

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The Paper Stand



Standing near the paper stand
in the pouring rain
the stench from public transportation
is driving me insane

Every where I look,
all I see around
are cars and trucks, and buses,
all wanting to go down town

Why is every one rushing
to be in the same place at the same time
God I hate the city
I must'a been out'a my mind

To have ever come here
no matter what the cost
I will not return real soon
even if business is lost

Standing near the paper stand
in the pouring rain
at least I know this is the last time
I will not be doing this again !
©1998 Jim Nasium

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They Will Remember Me


each street I walked down,
they were always around
each time I took a turn,
the same path they would burn
even went I stopped inside
they waited for me, they would hide
just out side the door of the store
I gave to them yesterday
but today they wanted more
didn't matter if I speed up
or ran a block or two
they were still there behind me
and I know what they want me to do
so I stopped and turned towards them
and dug into my pocket deep
I gave them each a 5 peso bill
the youngest one started to weep
they were just the small town kids
who followed me from block to block
I was like their shepherd
they were like my flock
Someone told me that even
today, very late at night
the now grown kids
tell tales of what I did
and that makes me feel all right
I was the only gringo
I was the one with the cash
they were the fat fish, I was the lure
and they'll remember me, for ever more

if you have ever been to a small town,
in a third world country,
you will understand the above... perfectly
Jim Nasium

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How's It Feel


"How's it feel to be a free man"
was the first thing that she asked me
when I bumped into her the other day
while taking my TV
to the store just round the corner
in back of our favorite shop
she started talking right away
I didn't even want to stop

She asked me if I wanted coffee
and maybe a sweet with her
she suggested we sit in that corner booth
where the memories, are now all blurred
I really don't need to hear her
tell me of the way that it could have been
I don't need to hear her rules and plans
for "our" future, no please, not again

So I told her I was in a hurry
that I had some place I needed to be
I think she knew what I was talking about
when she took a good look at me
and if you took a moment
to look deep with in my eyes
you'll see I lived a thousand deaths
and tried a thousand's try's

Lately things have been so crazy
my time no longer my own
I can't even finish writing this poem
I gott'a go answer the phone
and now that we are no longer
the one that two can be
I think I need to get away
I just want some time for me

®1998 Jim Nasium

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She's Insane


She's Insane, Sweet And Insane

She hides in the attic, she 's concealed on a shelf
behind volumes of poetry she wrote based on me and her self
no one ever sees her, and no one would understand
that she she is in love with me, me, the man
not what I can do, or what I have done
not just for my money, or just not for the fun
knowing that her love she can not hide
I am sorry, but too proud to swallow my pride
cause she's insane, so sweet and insane

No one seems to understand the things that she will do
and sometimes she does them to me and to you
and when the dust settles and she is through
I wish that I could but I can't tell you
about all the things she will do
about the many times she has made me feel blue
and the plans she has for my future too
I don't want any more of this
I must find something new
she's insane... sweet and insane

But she is the one and only for this man
sometimes I must admit that I like her plan
for the future and all the things that she wants to do
maybe I made a mistake, I don't want it to be through
tell me, now, what can I say
when it was just only yesterday
that she packed up her car and moved away
now I am alone, with nothing much more to say but
she's insane, so sweet and insane
®1998 Jim Nasium

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Cast Upon Her Island


She is still there waiting,
I see her sitting on her shore
She sees me as I drive by
of this I am pretty sure

I drive by that Island
The Island Just Up the Street
more than ever I did before
now that I'm on this side of her door

I seen that her flowers have grown a lot
even though it isn't spring
I see that she has new curtains in the windows
and on the doors, and everything

I wonder if I should stop by and say
hello and how are you
I wonder if she'd talk to me
and if not, then what would I do

So I drive around the block
my eye on the clock, in circles it seems I go
sometimes I still think about her
and I bet that she don't know

I see her sitting in her tower
alone, by the candle light
under the sun, I walk alone these days
under the moon, I walk alone at night

I wonder does she see me...
when I think she don't see me
I wonder is this the way that things
are just gonna have to be?

®1998 Jim Nasium

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On Line



On Line

I come home from work each day
just about the same time
and when I do the things I see
always blow my mind

you are sitting there, in bathrobe,
and bunny slippers too
lying about being on line
when I know that's all you do

telling tales of housework
that I just can't see
when I know it's to chat you go
with some man that should be me

when I get the phone bill
it proves what i think in my mind
YOU really are in some chat room
on line, all the time

®1998 Jim Nasium

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Your Madness


your madness fits in so nicely with my own
no matter if you're here or if I'm alone
I thought I knew all of the you's... but not yet!
I like the you that comes out late at night all wet
by the light of the full moon
we hug up like two spoons
you play at being human for awhile
as we lie under the moon glow
you know...
your madness goes so nicely with my own

You'll be different in the fall, I know it
your the seasonal type
as your mind races to places we have been
with crumbly white rocks
and pockets full of pesos
we sit here now and laugh about why are we so lucky
together, our madness fits in very nicely here at home
you with your cow heads and me with my computer art
now I write about our start
many years ago
didn't we both know
that this day would come ?
bag lady and a bum
your madness fits so nicely with my own....

®1998 Jim Nasium

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A Trip Thru The Night


I took a trip thru the night
Just to get here, to be with you
Dusty narrow roads
Paved with pot holes winding through
Andean mountain peaks
Needing to be crossed

Rivers below bamboo bridges
seem to call to me
Waiting, wanting me to join them
Black waters run near by
None for the dust, none for me...

I wrap your silken scarf 'round my face
In a back seat windowless bus
I gotta get out'a here
Away from all'a this white dust
Yes, I know I must...
Find something new to do
That's why I took a trip thru the night
Just to get here
To be with you..

We sat there and smoked
for three days one night
Under the Andean moonlight
The now cooked-up white dust
What'a site we were that night
Our bellies were empty, we didn't feel at all right
We decided there was only one thing to do
So we packed up our bags
Got on a bus, went south, to Peru
The Year was 1974
I can't remember much more...

®1998 Jim Nasium

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My Doom


I would sit in that basement room
slowly smokin' chunks of my doom
with each blast I got a little closer to where I wanted to be
just this side of eternity
sittin' in that windowless place
the way I acted was a disgrace
burnt matches and empty plastic vials on the floor
and all I wanted to do was just one more
big old blast from that hot crack pipe
yep, I was ready... I was ripe
for the pickin' and that's just what them dealers would do
they were my friend till my money was through
and when I would try to get more on the eye
they didn't care if I lived or if died
now I stay away from that darkened place
you can see the sobriety on my face
I live my life at a slower pace
no longer caught up in that rat race
I would sit in that basement room
smoking chunks of my certain doom

®1998 Jim Nasium

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My Wash


I guess she just don't understand
that's the way you do it when you're a man
you grab a bunch and use both hands
then throw them in . . . mud dirt and sand
all colors and different fabrics too
it's just the way I like to do . . . my wash
I guess she just don't understand
that's the way it's done when your a man
hot water, cold water, rinse, and spin dry
I just don't understand . . . why should I?
I put them in and add some soap
stand by and watch and wish and hope
they'll all come out clean again . . . it's my wash
I guess she just don't understand
that's the way it's done if your a man
we take the clothes out, held in both hands
and promise them a trip to the land
of ironing, folding, and mending too
'cause these are things that men don't do!
I guess she just don't understand
the way I do my wash . . .

®1998 Jim Nasium

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The Phone


I come home from work each day
just about the same time
and what I see when I do
always blows my mind...
you are still in your bathrobe
fuzzy pink slippers too
the curlers that are in your hair
should have been out long ago, just like you
the babies in her high chair
she's crying all the time
the food that was left on the stove
is burnt... it's a crime
you have that phone up to one ear
it's the same thing all the time
and I when I say, "how are you dear
you look at me like I was slime
I can't believe that you spend all day long
on the phone with a friend....
I just can't take it no more
this has got to end

®1998 Jim Nasium

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The Train

Between the clang clang clang of the wheels on the rails
I over heard the little girl, with too much wind in her sails
tell her mommy all about her dream
"i was good mommy, i didn't scream
i thought it was gonna get me
or so it seemed
the monster was about 77 feet tall
and had a big red head, it look like a ball
and it's tail was 22 feet long
it had two million and 7 teeth, and it sang a song
of , come here little girl... I'll tell you a story
the dream was real scarry and it was all gorey
but i was a good girl mommy ", i overheard her say
as her mother just looked away
out the window at the passing scenes
i wonder, i thought, what the little girls dream means
the mother seemed to have no time,
for her daughter, it was a crime

®1998 Jim Nasium

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When He Gets Older

She called me for the first time tonight
in such a very long time
she said "hello, how are you,
ya know, you've been on my mind"

I wonder what she wanted
I had no more money to give
then our son got on the phone
wanted to know why I live

so very far away from them
clear across the states
I told him it's a long story and
that telling it would have to wait

maybe some day when he is older
I will sit him near to me
and then I will tell him the story
of how it used to be

between me and his mother
the woman with fire for hair
it warms my heart to know that they
wish that I was there
®1998 Jim Nasium

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What If Everyone Looked Like Me


Some times I wonder
what it would be
like if every one
looked just like me

Now I think I understand
what God had in His plans
We all look like we do
cause I am me and YOU are you

..and I think about YOU
most all of the time
I write verse about you
and I write rhyme
and I hope that some day
you will in your own way
understand that I am me
and that I always will be

that's just the way it is
there is nothing that we can do
now there are two ones
where there used to be one two

and I do look like you...
you look like me too
I still can't understand
why you ran away...
took my son that long gone now day
but that's another poem...

®1998 Jim Nasium

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Ten Again


I was with my brother's seven year old son
out riding our bikes, just havin' some fun
We went to all the places his father and I knew
as children, lookin' for something to do
and to see what ever we might see...
Just then as he was riding next to me
the sunlight reflected off'a his bicycle rim
and as I looked up and over at him
In a moment I was a kid again!
I was ten, and then
in that moment to my surprise
I was seeing through a ten year old's eyes
It was my brother and I on our bikes
not me and his son
the whole rest of the day we had a lott'a fun
And since this story is all too real
I wanted to share the way the sun made me feel
and tell you what the sun can do
yes, this really happened ... it is true!

®1998 Jim Nasium

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All Of Them, They All Know My Name


They all say that they know my name
Some claim to see through my game
Some claim they'd give me fame
Some came, just to drive me insane

They all say they know my name
They don't know I can see through them too
They say they want one thing but
I know what they really want to do

And I know what you want too
You still want to be in my heart
You have, I know, from the start
Many miles apart yet somehow still true

Then YOU want me to marry YOU
To get us a small house
To be there when ever you need me
To stay quiet as a mouse

Others want me to draw for them
Banners of blue and green
They come to me when they need me
When drawing is done they flee

One I know wants to be a friend
While she remains unseen
She is mousy with a rough voice
She wants to be some other man's Queen

The one that we call The Woman Child
Came and made me smile awhile
Now pulled away by her life's trials
The distance more than just the miles

Then one of them says she needs my words
Her voice I asked her to give to me
She said "I can't because after all
I am no longer free"

One thinks all of my poems are about her
She has been waiting for one of her own you see
She said that I just don't understand
How much she cares about me

One of them is far away
She is the maker of cow heads
I haven't heard much about her lately
She might even be dead

One or two of them say they love me
Words that cut me, just like a knife
But not as deep as the words YOU speak
"I want to be your wife"

I think that I understand why they use me
When done they just throw me away
I think I understand it all too clearly now
So this has to be the very last day

They all say they know my name
Some claim to see through my games
Trouble seems to follow fame
That's why I am NOT to blame

If they really truly knew the man
Whose name they all say they know
My heart would full with happiness
The joy would truly show

I will say in your face that is not the case
And my heart is still black, broken and cold
Tonight’s the night I changed my name
NOW... let the story be told

®1998 Jim Nasium

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