Solo Exhibition, Fountain St. Church, Grand Rapids, MI, 2022/23.

                    

Sam Adams Mural via Artworks, Cincinnati, OH, 2022. Approximately 213 feet by 50 feet.

                                      

An Instant

Our invented system 

of a linear 

marching 

mechanical 

time 

limited to the miniscule

dime a dozen

is so ridiculously

simplistic

All the gods and ghosts

aliens and ancestors

sorcerers and superheroes

laugh in our faces

nose to nose with us

through the veil 

of a parallel universe

on the other end of a

collapsing string portal

Lifetimes pack into moments

one trapped lung full will feel like a month

3 sweet days can last a lifetime 

or a lifetime can wish for 3 sweet days

inside the tick tock of our maniacal minds 

refusing to pause 

long enough 

to fracture the fractal patterns 

that we restrict ourselves to

Fortunately, sometimes 

the universe meanders 

down another avenue

pulled by a pulse

of magnetic rhythms

and reverberating layers

surfacing the submerged

years of fear and hurt

that only the heart can hear

All it takes

is a decision to break

traditions, habits and systems

of a dysfunctional commitment

to the identity of an island

to an eternity of silence

a refusal of the refusal to say

those 3 little words 

that can unravel you

in an instant

Archimedes

Gratitude is like water

It fills up my heart 

and all the things 

that were pushed 

to the bottom

begin to float

to the top

 

Displaced to the corners

of my eyes

just like Archimedes said

Stir that up with all the debris

covering the surface

and it gets harder

to see 

inside

 

So, I be a good pool boy

Skimming the skin with a net

Inspecting my catch

like a bad fisherman

Be it rusty hooks

empty worm cans

angry crabs

or skinny 

fish

 

If a heart can be flooded

with a mere daily catch

it appears abundantly clear

The question to ask 

is not what 

got caught today

but who 

shall I ask

to go 

swimming

Birth Day

Uncustomarily, my grandpa followed 

“I’m with her.”  he said

She kept on walking 

“You just try and stop me.” she said

The nurses told her it was past visiting hours

and she was not allowed into the newborn ward

to hold her first born granddaughter 

One of my favorite stories

she did not tell me until until she was 93

about when she went to the hospital

to see me 

on my birth day

The Blues. Inserted lyrics from Big Joe Williams song "Baby Please Don''t Go."

Once I watched an artist 

paint a bullet hole

an entryway in

I stood in front of it 

and felt the air

raise mountains on my skin

That flesh wound

serenaded me

with a sonnet I already knew by heart

See, the blues is a hole 

in your soul 

that you can’t fill

So you rock 

from your center 

to soothe the injured parts of yourself

You sing 

just to push the wind 

through that long, dark tunnel

"Baby please don't go, baby please don't go

baby please don't go, down to New Orleans

you know I love you so."

Without a witness 

a song might as well be whistled to oneself

and I whistle a different tune every day

Ten thousand whistles 

can feel 

like a hurricane

But it takes a hurricane 

to redirect 

the fourcefull course of a bullet  

So if you know the words

then fill your lungs 

with round after round

Spit blustery machine gun gusts

Aim for wisdom and wishes

Sling lyrics of faith and falicy

When the sound comes out, it will be yours 

but you might also find

that it doesn’t just belong to you

Solo parts are plucked 

from the belly 

of an ancestral choir

The blues is poetry reincarnated

and vice versa

hence the vice in the verses

Paintings are life lessons

Asking questions

that have no answers

Only gifting us songs to sing

I pray that mine may be a balm 

for someone elses soul

"Turn your lamp down low

You turn your lamp down low
Turn your lamp down low, I cried all night long
Now baby please don't go

Jeffrey @thejeffreymarsh