Lazarus Jewelbox

Inside a shell, there was a sea
holding all the world’s blue waters.
But it was also half full of drought.

All she’d ever known was drought,
but ear to the shell, she heard the sea,
the circling cadence of the waters.

Caroline released the waters
and left a shell now full of drought
and threw it deep into the sea.

Sea waters stall the birth of drought.

///

To Call the Goddess

The old man lost faith in rain,
stopped praying, whispered soft,
I’ve had enough. I give.

How many poems can you give,
brother, to call the goddess of the rain?
A shadow in a sheep’s clothes, soft

wings flutter, a sound so soft
you stop the car, pull over and give
a listen to the whistle of a train.

To hear the rain fall soft again? I’ll give.

/// Continue reading →

Tango and the Art of the Unseen

Jordana del Feld is a San Francisco artist and Argentine tango dancer. She paints and dances to connect with the world without and the world within. Her freehand painting technique balances her lifelong training and study of both Eastern and Western art. The dance of the brush records the inner energy of her subjects. Many people mistake the paintings for photographs, but they show what a photograph cannot. They are the art of the unseen.

The tango paintings began as a study of light and shadow, positive and negative, motion and stillness, men and women, yin and yang (and all that jazz), but over time, became intimate portraits that told the story of Jordana’s community. What began as an artistic exercise became confessions from the heart, of the entwined stories of a little world of lovers, friends, hope, heartbreak, joy, sharing, despair, discovery, and above all….

LOVE.

Equal Treatment for all Groups

Why don’t you treat school activities the same as sports

Why do you treat us like the youngest child

And give everything to the oldest

So why I ask why

You never announce FFA or Robotics competitions

Yet you announce sport competitions

So why do you treat us like the youngest child

And save everything for the oldest

Or you don’t acknowledge us when we go to state

But you do for sports

So how is that fair

We work just as hard as athletics do but in a different way

We build robots, we study topics like trees

So why do you treat us like the youngest child

It just isn’t fair

Iron and Ether

Something familiar in the curve,

The anguished bend of steel overcome

By heat and stress beyond belief —

Caught my eye because it was

The essence of you,

Trapped and facing death,

Refusing to yield until

The last possible life

Had slipped to safety.

I bought the photograph.

All I have of you

Are the vapors of memory,

One of thousands missing

And logically dead.

Still, you are as solid in my mind

As that monument of iron,

Arching as though to shield me

From the emptiness ahead.

j.lewis is an internationally published poet, musician, and nurse practitioner. 
His poetry and music reflect the difficulty and joy of human interactions, 
and often draw inspiration from his decades of experience in healthcare. 
When he is not writing, composing, or diagnosing, he is often on a kayak, 
exploring and photographing the waterways near his home in California.

Surprise!

Mirsky turned fifty-five on his first ever business trip and now was pulling into his garage at home. Expecting a warm and loving reception from his wife Elaine he became instantly depressed when he noticed her car was missing from the garage.

Mirsky had the non-enviable ability to become instantly depressed for almost any reason, good or bad.

He pulled his suitcase from the trunk and it dawned on him—a surprise birthday party was awaiting him. Of course, he thought. How could I have been so dumb?

He smoothed his hair, straightened his jacket and practiced surprise faces for when he opened the door. Mirsky mind-counted twenty-three couples and a few singles that Elaine just had to invite to his party. He was excited as he turned the door knob to enter the kitchen.

The silence was deafening. He flicked on the kitchen light and saw a note on the counter.

‘Went to the movies, see you soon. LE.”

Dejected, he lugged his bag into the bedroom and saw there were candles set around the room, a bottle of champagne sitting in ice and another note. “Make yourself comfortable, birthday boy—see you after the movie. Oh, yeah. Turn on the VCR. LE.”

Mirsky showered, opened the champagne and poured himself a glass, got into bed in his altogether and turned on the TV and VCR.

One by one his friends wished him a happy birthday and then as a group they sang Happy Birthday. They were in his house having a party.

The TV flickered and the party was gone and he watched a close-up of Helen, the woman he met on his business trip. Then he watched them drinking at the bar and then having dinner and finally them making out on the way to his room.

Mirsky heard Elaine’s car pull into the garage and he grabbed the remote, turned the TV off and pulled the covers over his head thinking, “But it’s my birthday”.