david jewell poet

words. photos. images. whatnot.

Archive for the ‘ Uncategorized ’ Category


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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


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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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beautiful vanishing ghost of memory horizon sunlight fading to red then dark

beauty of wave tension crest yearning finally breaks down the whitewater roaring

like rhinocerous charging at a semi-truck on a two lane highway outside of Dodge

City. (not a lot of beauty in Dodge City… which is a good reason to get the hell

out of Dodge). Beauty thunderous whispering inside ear turn toward fire light see

something like epiphany or salvation like the memory of where you really are.


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(eye). (eye).

how can we see,

that we don’t see,

what we don’t know

is there?

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retro response nomenclature sunrise
(surmising what have you)
like an octopus tatsting martinis….

down the street a fire engine goes all sonic and light show…
just because it can
and why not…
except, don’t make a habit of it––

grab the stethoscope and march 2 miles in a circle,
return to where you left from,
it’s called “exercise”. . .

polaroid roses

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sleepy inside the raindrop very much a universe all it’s own.

25 things about me….

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25 things about me.

1. I would rather be a dolphin or a whale.
2. I would like to take a road trip in outer space.
3. My first car was a 1955 green Cadillac my grandfather gave to me.
4. My second car was a 1967 blue Electra 225 my grandfather gave to me.
5. My third car was a 1977 white Volkswagon Rabbit.
4. Then a Honda Accord briefly in 1987
5. Then a white Mazda RX-7 for a few years.
6. I love driving cross country.
7. I really enjoyed seeing CarHenge in Alliance, Nebraska.
8. I really enjoyed the OZ Museum in Wamego, Kansas.
9. The Hearst Castle in California…and The Grand Canyon are amazing.
10. Russians are my favorite writers.
11. I really enjoyed the whole photography experience much more with film.
12. I love/hate digital photography, computers, cell phones, internet etc. etc. etc.
13. I like watching movies. Quite a bit.
14. I like reading very very much.
15. These sorts of lists pretty much drive me up the wall. But I like other peoples.
16. I like coffee.
17. I really really miss smoking lots of cigarettes and may have to start again someday.
18. People who are sure of themselves sort of bore me to tears.
19. I am hopelessly punctual. Almost never ever ever late at all.
20. I had the same first grade teacher that Dick Van Dyke had.
21. I would like to have a two martini lobotomy…a permanent two drink high.
22. I haven’t been in a fist fight since grade school….and that’s just fine with me.
23. I don’t know why I finally decided to write these 25 things.


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for the muse c.



my head is full of

lava and candles.

I’m the sweet monkey

in the parade at dawn.


I formulate sentences

with nothing to say.

I strike out in

all directions at once.


I’m the ruby resting

on the neck of the Princess.


I’m a box of nothing

in an empty boat.


I’m a shattered chandelier that fell from the ceiling

as you walked up the stairs.


I am everything that is reaching for you

from across the room.


I’m the cat that shows up from

nowhere and disappears.


I am a conundrum inside an enigma

driving a race car on a moebius strip.


The next grapefruit I eat will hopefully be a



I can’t spell my shoe size


and am forever barefoot

shuffling across the silver floor.








November 2015
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