Behind The Axe

My father

Gave me my first axe

When I was 8 years of age

39 years later

It’s my go to tool

I’ve honed my skills behind the axe

And

Honed its blade!!!

Its weight

Its length

Its handle

Which soaks in my sweat

And

Sometimes my blood

Becomes a part of me

And me of it!!!

A symphony of

Cutting, slicing, and chopping

Me, the conductor

It, the instrument

The Axe and Cutting Mattock

Have been in my hands

My father’s hands

His father’s hands

His father’s, father’s hands

So on and so forth

All the way back to Ireland, Scotland, and Wales

Back to Scandinavia and The Vikings

The axe is deeply rooted in my blood

My DNA

Everything that is me

When it comes to working outdoors

One day

When I’m old

And my hands too feeble

Too crippled

To hold my axe

I’ll look back on the lands I’ve shaped

The dirt I’ve churned

The trees I’ve fallen

And remember

My days

Behind the axe

Harry Crews 9/10/10

                                Photo ©Jason E. Hodges

Harry Crews Biography

A short time ago I was informed I’m in the new Harry Crews biography Blood, Bone And Marrow by Ted Geltner. I ordered a copy and when it arrived, I opened it to see my name in the index. With a smile, I turned the pages and saw my time spent interviewing Harry typed within. This book is well put together and is a wonderful read. It’s definitely worth the buy. Pick up a copy today and enjoy the life and times of one of the greatest writers of our time!

Harry Crews biography Blood, Bone And Marrow by Ted Geltner

Pockets Of The Profit Maker

Everything is necessary

In everyone’s

Own needing of necessities!

The machines are taking over

At least

It seems that way!

The laborer

Is becoming more and more

Scarce to see these days

John Henry was the first to

Fight this

Way of working

Where machines

Take the place

Of

Muscle, blood, and bone 

I heard his song

Many times as a boy

This

Folk hero in the lands

Of

My youth

Gave us hope that mankind

Wouldn’t completely

Be taken over

By oil

By steel

By plastic

Yet

We all kind of knew

This day was coming

We just didn’t expect 

It would be so soon

Or

Maybe we never realized

How fast it would

All go by

I guess

There are too many profits

To be maximized

Too much money

To be made

To not go this route

And the machines are

Not only taking the place

Of

Working flesh

They’re taking the position

Of

The mind!

Of

Critical thinking!

Is it possible

In centuries to come

We will have bodies like jellyfish

And

Grunt like cavemen?

The sun will burn brighter

Than ever by then

And the air

Will be too poisoned to breathe

Machines will be our only

Choice

To work outside

Mechanical movement underneath

A radioactive sun  

All for the pockets

Of

The profit maker

To continue

Making their money!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Blunt

An old friend of mine

I’ve known for thirty years

Told me

I was blunt the other day

He then said

It was one of the reasons

He has remained friends

With me

For so long

He knew exactly where

He stood with me

At all times!

I was surprised by this

I said, I thought I believed

I was careful

With people’s feelings

My wife then joined in

The conversation

“You thought you were

a sugar coater?”

A smile then pulled gently

Across her face

His wife chuckled

“You’re no sugar coater!”

I spent the next few hours

Pondering all this

Like Archimedes

Pondering Physics

I wondered

What people would think

If I didn’t try to sugar coat

My words?

A few days later

And

Hours into a day

Of

Dealing with customers

A coworker said to me

As her brow

Slowly moved upwards

“You don’t have to be

antagonistic with the customers”

I said,

“I’m not.”

“But I’m also not promising them

unicorns and rainbows”

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Jason E. Hodges Quotes

“Never be an artist that starts worshiping yourself or believe your little group is better than anyone outside of it. For, you are nothing more than a grain of sand on a hillside in this world of ours. Even Da Vinci’s work is only glanced at then scrolled past on a phone or computer these days. Climb down off your throne and become humble once more.” Jason E. Hodges

“Your only guarantee in this life is that eventually it will end. So make it extraordinary. Live like tomorrow won’t start for you.” Jason E. Hodges

“The biggest weapon that threatens us all is, mankind’s stupidity.” Jason E. Hodges    

“To forgive is powerful. To not remember the reasons why you had to forgive is foolish. So continue on with open eyes and see all that’s before you.” Jason E. Hodges

“To pluck out debris from one’s eye can be quite painful. To dig into one’s self can be unbearable. But in order to move forward we must pluck out the painful and fill our souls with hope that the pain never returns.” Jason E. Hodges

“I’d rather fall climbing a mountain hand in hand with someone I felt was my equal than to make it to the top by stepping on them.” Jason E. Hodges

“Humans have the ability to rewrite history. Within a few decades it is not even questioned. Stories of the past become as real as the world you walk through today. Wars are waged over false history. Sins are denied. All for mankind to move forward and feel comfortable about its past. Your true history is written in the stars. Look up, breathe in, and be humbled by the ones who came before you. The ones who have suffered, who have endured, who have overcome. Their blood is alive in you. Their spirits roam freely in the heavens above.” Jason E Hodges      

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Workplace Machine

The morning sun

Bends and twists

It changes

Minute by minute

In the reflection

Of

The buildings

Sky-glass

Windows of sparkle

All for the lifeless sheep

To gaze upon

As they crawl

Their way into work

Their faces are long

And

Lost of expression

All because

They’re waiting for

The workweek to begin

Waiting for the coffee

To drip from the dripper

Self-inflicted misery

For another day’s pay!

God knows how many times

I’ve been in their shoes

And

How I’m still there

A few days a week!

Within a few hours of working

The counting of minutes will start

A quick glance at the wall clock

To see

The day is far from over

And

The Boss

The Shepherd

Is constantly frowning

His smile was lost

With the collapses of the market

The fall

Of

His 401k something-another

His morning

Drives at the range

Are now nothing

But a memory

A thought

Fleeting at that!

So the sheep

Have good cause to worry

To sweat

To cry secretly

In the restroom

But before all of this

Worry in the workplace

This stress to make

Green colored paper

They must travel

Like ants to the mound

Bumper to bumper

The sheep

Are fed

To the workplace machine

One soul at a time

Losing all that was

And

Becoming all they never

Intended to be!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

My Bird’s Shadow

There’s a mockingbird

That sings so loudly

At times

It’s hard

To get

Anything done

Like a shadow

It’s always beside me

Fluttering just out of reach

With a keen eye

She watches

All that’s around her

Mimicking

All that she hears

But some days

I know she struggles

Like me

So sensitive

So caring

The slightest things

Can affect her songs

Her chirp

Becomes barely a whisper

Like a flower

Closing its petals

Not thriving

From

Too much

Or

Too little

Good times

Or

Dark days of sorrow

The scales

Are sometimes

Hard to balance

Heavily swayed

By

The weight of the world

But the mocking bird

Keeps singing

And

So shall I

With words

On this paper

I will write

Memories of people

And

Places

That have come and gone

In my life!

For

Some friendships

Are

As short as a season

Dropping from me

Like a leaf

From a tree

In autumn

Falling

After its last burst

Of

Bright color!

Yet

The written word

Lives on

Long after memories are gone

And I think

As the bird

Flies away

Into

The dark distance of dusk

Who will drop away from me now

And

What words will I write

To remember them?

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

In The Beginning

The wolves’ teeth

Are sharp

Ivory daggers

Dripping

With

Bloodlust betrayal

A striking contrast

From what was shown

Yet

Is it really our fault

When we believe

What we are shown?

What we are told?

When we take someone

At their word?

When we become

Pawns or puppets

By lies!

By trickery!

We all see

What we want to see

In the beginning

Until the truth

Sinks its teeth into us!

Somehow

In some strange way

The bitter taste

Of

Truth

Comes as relief

In the form of reality

Painfully pushing us forward

Like fuel in a piston

Like food for your

Innermost thoughts

You awake one day and see

Lies are like sugar

Their taste becomes empty

In the end

Hollow

Transparent promises

Seen through!

Like a gypsy peering into

A crystal ball

You will see through every word

As if they were made of glass  

In time

Days become puzzle pieces

Linking together into a

Perfect picture that will be

Impossible to turn away from!   

Hollow gifts

Showing there fangs

Empty words

Empty promises

Swarm like bees

In the spring

Their honey

Ever so sweet at first

So tempting

Till the wolf

Gnashes its teeth

And

You see

The truth

In his smile

And all

Is balanced once more

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Grunts

An old boss of mine

Once told me

“I work to pay you!”

I speculate

If you’ve come from nothing

And

Are struggling to

Make your way in this world

You’ve probably heard

Something similar! 

It seems to be

A favorite saying

Amongst business folks

To the grunts they hire!

Instinctively they sense the ones

Desperate for a paycheck

They know these folks

Will take all the abuse

Dished out to them

With a smile!

I say this with conviction

For

I’ve seen it happen several times

Over the past 30 years!

Not every owner is this way

But

The ones who are

Can be hard on the mind!

Yet

The soul grows stronger

With every promotional promise

Fed to it

Then taken away!

Every condescending remark

Lobbed at it!

Yes

The soul grows stronger!

Then there’s the owners

That have

Overseers

Managers  

That do their bidding for them!

The owner’s outside appearance

Seems as asleep and peaceful

As a Charles Perrault character

But they’re not asleep

And

Their actions or inactions

Have nothing

To do with the word, “beauty!”   

After a few decades

Of

Working these kinds of jobs

Your spirit will be unbreakable

Or

Broken!  

For years I drifted  

From

One dead-end job to another

Like Richard Kimble

In “The Fugitive”

I didn’t stick around long

When things became too much

My spirit would not allow it!

Make enough to survive and write

Was good enough for me!

Writing was what I was

Put here to do

My commitment

To the written word

To the craft of language

Was all that mattered

So every day after work

I would begin

A night of writing

Bringing characters to life

Collecting my thoughts

Like a child

Collecting their toys!

Looking back

I remember the truly good people

I’ve worked side by side with

And

I remember the bad!

I see how fast it’s all gone by

Like trains I now hear

Running in the distance

Outside my window

Their sounds disappear

Into the darkness of night

Like I soon will do

Falling asleep

While lost in the thoughts

Of

Today and the days gone by!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

This World

This world

Is made by us

Absolutely

Lived by us

No one

But us!

Choices…

What will we choose?

Will we listen to

The all-knowing

Of

The norm?

The average?

Or

Will we listen

To our dreams?

Our hearts?

I say

Listen to our dreams

And

Listen to the dreamers

Listen to the words whispered

By the poets of the past

The poets of today

Take hold of your dreams

They’re speaking to you

And

Only you!

LISTEN TO THEM!!!

So many live

With thoughts and hopes

Of

The next life

Being the grandest

The mind can imagine

Or living with

Fears of forecasted fiery flames

In the hereafter

Without ever living this life!

Stop living with, the what if?

Simply start living!

For

If you spend a lifetime

Without opening your mind

Your mind

Will be

Just as asleep

In the next world

And

All the streets

Paved of gold

Will mean nothing

All the riches will be

As wanted as

30 pieces of silver to Judas

Once the rope tightened

And

His last breath was gone!

Find the true riches in this life

By being alive in it

Not just going through it

Hoping things will be better

In the next!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave