[PART ONE] Enter Row

High Lining


by Jacob Beam


           I am a poet of this world. I look around most of the time and observe the happenings. But one day I decided to stop with the normal and make a change. So I wrote a book of sorts. Now settle in and engage the particulars of choice.

Enter my mind my resting place.

Where demons once claimed the taste.

This lives a troubled story it’s yours to read.

But change of mind I’m sure you’ll see.

The music of line swells with power for us.

Beat with patterns it’s the ball you can’t trust.

Enter Row

         Childhood. Oh the wondrous memories I could sing of those moments. I had fallen. I had been trampled. But I was moving. And moving fast. I wanted the lime and the light and the electrical outlet that supplied the magical green aurora power. But I was small. I was a red light lost on the switchboard that turned on the light. I knew my purpose, however, and I was finally set on making it known.  

“I want to write for a living.” I passed the cockroach. That sticky brown bug, man.

“Go for it.” He was lazy in his response.

“Be inspirational, or discouraging. Give me some attitude dude. Jesus.”

“I’m beyond comprehension at this point, man.” Finally, some attitude from the guy.

“I didn’t want to hear that. I want to be pushed into this one way or the other.” I usually spoke with intent.

“You already did that.” God. What game was he playing?

“And how is that?” He was trying to outwit me. It was inevitable.

“By getting emotional you’ve already shown your hand.” It came all over me.

“I suppose.” I was willing to lose but not to bow.

“Do what you want to do man. It’s really that simple.” I changed.

The steps following that conversation pounded hard deep into the cement of my life path. And I wore flat-soled shoes for the pain. With purpose.

Turn on the flash.

I have a friend that loves to create with his mind. He is crazy. Peach-skinned with a deep passion for music. But wild music. Music that fills the ears and skips merrily down to your heart, moving fast down to your feet. Dancing with life I partake with him.

A change of space.

The hill was masterful. Clinging to life given off by the sun and the spirit of the people. It had a soft slope. One a child could run playfully down without running the risk of tragic death. Or worse, a knee scrape.

“Oh my god.” Stretching out my hands behind my head and melting playfully into the side of the hill.

“It’s so beautiful out today.” Such lyrical profoundness. But still right.

A daughter of mother earth, undoubtedly, sat beside us and breathed in motion. Her hands moved out of her space and back in. Something was going on. Something wild.

“Can I sit with you?” A sister asked.

She nodded. I looked away.

To our right a band of fits that missed the cut. Tourists. Get off of our hill, my resting place. Pollute elsewhere my fellow man. I wanted to remove them but I knew this was all to share. At least in this moment.

“Why?” The question had to be raised.

“Because it’s the thing to do I guess.”

“No.” It’s all I could muster.

Down the hill and to the left a bit a wiry man came skating into the scene. Jeans dirty and cut. No home and no worries. Just a random equation floating around the whiteboard of life. Carefree and in the breeze. Joyous, if I’ve ever seen it. He disappeared into the brush.

The sun was warm with heat that could be tasted. Sweet but bitter. A hint of poison if I had to guess. Just a hint though. The grass beat down to a yellow. Blades flat from feet. But still ever present. Still making its case. Still beautiful.

A suit and tie moved into the brush. The beauty of the moment never lost. Hiding in secret and exchanging the goods.

“What time is it?” So many secrets lay around the place. Always hiding but always known.


“Interesting.” The journey was done. But the journey of my life was about to turn.


I received my education from The University of Texas-Tyler. I dig art, green tea and traveling. I live in Austin, Texas. I'm really enjoying the freedom from the terrifyingly backward thinking that only East Texas can bring.