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Poetry

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Fourteen

By jelewis8 ⋅ September 6, 2004 ⋅ One comment

Fourteen. Fourteen and felt like a man plowed the yoked beasts rows and rows hours on end, endless heat. Then joining Mother in the garden, chasing crows from the cornsilk. Glowing dirt ripens and fades in the dusty heat. She wipes her skirt down, smiles like the brim of her hat. Hades was never this [...]

Poor Larry

By jelewis8 ⋅ June 11, 2004 ⋅ One comment

Poor Lawrence Ferlinghetti! Still stuck in whatever year it was that Neal Cassidy died. I wrote a beat poem once. I got over it. Ferlinghetti, he just writes what he knows, I guess. Last this, last that. Last poet of a beat-gone generation. Last man standing, last crow croaking. Ol Larry he sounds like first [...]

Paradise Street

By jelewis8 ⋅ April 30, 2004 ⋅ One comment

Pointed, brilliant sociopath records the street with his eyes. The girl with the grey scarf and the beige skirt with flowers on the hem. The butcher, apron and paper stained red, his fat overflowing Buddha stomach dripping like wax onto his buckle. The driver of the grimed moped. The standing bum. The sitting wino. The [...]

The Casualty Clearing Station

By jelewis8 ⋅ April 21, 2004 ⋅ Post a comment

A bowl of daffodils, A crimson-quilted bed, Sheets and pillows white as snow – White and gold and red – And sisters moving to and fro, With soft and silent tread. So all my spirit fills With pleasure infinite, And all the feathered wings fo rest Seem flocking from the radiant West To bear me [...]

Esther

By jelewis8 ⋅ April 7, 2004 ⋅ 9 comments

She gassed herself in London, the winter of ’63. Echoing strains of her life’s work gentle reminders that life comes down hardest on those who live the weakest for a distant lady with no past and certainly no future, as if such a thing existed anyway, she exuded melancholy; the kind of a woman in [...]

Upon Growing Young and Dying

By jelewis8 ⋅ November 11, 2003 ⋅ Post a comment

Shortly; in turn and double step, take mechanized horse rides and fiery dragon wings ride up stop mention to your mother how it was you wanted cotton candy and gumball dropping rolling solitary under the control box did it mean you were too young for language? My how you’ve grown-old cliche’s for broken youngsters hidden [...]

I Hide

By jelewis8 ⋅ March 31, 2003 ⋅ Post a comment

If you don’t think of me often           (I would appreciate it) See I’m blind and small in my tiny world           (but I like it that way) I make my way through the spaces between           (just like you’d expect) and use my head to get around           (I don’t have a heart) Call me thin-skinned if you [...]

Ulysses and Charybdis

By jelewis8 ⋅ March 31, 2003 ⋅ Post a comment

Fiery breath and fiery breast heaving amid churning waters, ‘mid the rock and swirl Ulysses, thy ship navigate dark wave and crest over the foam, past waters that hurl and thrust against thy planks, over the sea that rolls and push you not too far, for herein lies the sucking beast Charybdis that beguiles to [...]

Wonder on a Canvas

By jelewis8 ⋅ March 31, 2003 ⋅ Post a comment

What does he want me to see? I just noticed the painting on the wall. Yet, seeing it now, again, I wonder at the scene, the simple pleasure of it all. I can’t tell which is greater to my eye: the simple dots of blooms, or the sitters’ shadows. Foxgloves, I can see, and the [...]

To Gary Snyder

By jelewis8 ⋅ March 19, 2003 ⋅ Post a comment

With a lumbering yawn and a bluejean spread this lumberjack lumbered back to his place in the sun, a dojo run, with microcosmic bursts of radiation spreading along his spine He spun the tales of the two-ton trucks racing on wheels and deals of evergreen, never seen before by his kind and Kerouac Eastman Lumberjack [...]

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