david jewell poet

words. photos. images. whatnot.

miss understanding

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(weird first thought of the day before coffee).

Miss Understanding lives in a mansion high up on the hill
and sends chaos waves rolling down all over the whole wide world.
She is so lonely up there, and she can’t talk to anyone because
her words all come out backwards and freeze in mid-air and
shatter on the marble floor or her palace. She isn’t mean or cruel,
and she doesn’t even know she is sending chaos waves that short-
circuit peoples ability to love each other. She just doesn’t understand.

Someday, when the singularity happens, she’ll be singing a different tune.
But, we aren’t sure what that song might sound like. It could be a harmomious
glorious sound creaitng epiphany and compassion and putting an instant stop
to all war and emtional cruelty and pain. Or, it could sound like a dull
tromping dirge, like an army of robots walking through the swamp of
cluelessness. together, understanding everything so completely,
but on a very low level that misses the point of all evolution,
like 20 colors of paint mixed together to make the color of mud.
But, that is for another day.

Today, Miss Understanding relaxes on the chaise lounge by the pool and
sips her martinis and chain smokes her Virginia Slims. She wants to believe
she’s come a long way, baby, but, she’s been there since the beginning of time,
since the first communication, and if anything, she’s only gotten more complex.
Say a prayer for the gal, like Nora Desmond, ready for her close up, she knows
nothing of what she speaks, but there is no doubt in her mind she knows exactly
what she means.

dj
1-7-14

flotsam and jetsam of new year

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.
flotsam and jetsam of new year

confused by the mishap surrounding the nomenclature.
I’m just wondering where the ostrich laid the golden egg.
I see the feathers and boas and top hats and canes,
popped champagne corks trapped in the chandeliers––
people are tap dancing on linoleum,
swimming in the fountain with little bubbly surprises crackling into their synapse
gaps
releasing some sort of bliss
or epiphany of psychedelic manifestation and
truly pure happiness~~and you know,
you hit the high seas in a little boat and you float,
wondering if it’s the hurricane or the high tide,
or if you’re going to glide swiftly
into the beach, for another
Mai Tai.

dj
1-4-14

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