david jewell poet

words. photos. images. whatnot.

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Looking for the heart of gratitude and forgiveness,

asking for light to enter my heart and forgive me.

Wanting to forgive myself and accept myself and love myself,

and have no fear of all these thoughts, emotions, shadows and

illusions that appear to be so real––but, I hear, are not real––

powerful but unreal––even a memory is an illusion

because it is filtered through thoughtand emotion. . .

and the images of the memories are seemingly random,

like a slide show, and who knows when

or why they appear, or why they appear when they do, or

what they mean. . . or if it is just natual processing. . .

like leaves blowing in spirals in an autumn wind remembering

the past spring when they were budding and growing so green

and with such eagerness and urgent joy and force and now

have let got of the branch     and turned gold or red or brown

and are swirling in the chilly storm wind of fall,

dancing in the air one last time on their way to the ground,

maybe to dream again of spring and summer and all the life ahead.

I just want to be harmless and live my life

with love and compassion and joy in my work

and learn to love others in a generous harmless way.

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img_3983

audio experiment 21 seconds… broke down clown…

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broke down clown downtown lounge

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IMG_6293

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Screen shot 2016-07-31 at 7.17.16 PM

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Screen shot 2016-02-17 at 3.26.48 PM

k. casi model. photo by dj.

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Screen shot 2016-02-07 at 10.35.00 AM Screen shot 2016-02-02 at 12.48.18 PM Screen shot 2016-01-30 at 5.48.33 PM

halloween

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.

hands apples falling/catchtes gravity plump/ripe luscious fruit

pommegranite/plum ripe for plucking oh so lucky/crispy day

dissolving in the sweet/october sun coming undone/another fall

another autumn – another spell not/quite broken – relinquish me and

make it solemn/bereft of tears like a downtown gollum/up by

the cliffs/down by the waves everyone so thirsty as they crawl

from their graves – oh halloween – oh day of the dead – oh life always

unwinding the story/unravelling in my head … when i was an

apple i knew you as the tree, everything i have now is like i am

falling/too ripe to pluck when you set me free.

route 66. santa rosa, new mexico. october 2013

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rte 66 shadow

horse

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.

horse was evaporating in the middle of the sun.

horse was thirsty, and missed running over the hills,

then going full gallop over the flatland.

horse was remembering,

or trying to––he felt the rain like a prayer.

horse was daydreaming (still evaporating),

a metallic mosquito bit his neck, but instead of

drawing out his blood, it poured something into him . . .

and then horse was galloping into the center of the sun,

feeling the fire wash him of his pain, running into the center

of white-hot heat, where he went supernova

and was finally himself.

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