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Jeffrey Stewart

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Salt Lake City, UT, US

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Son of Nowhere

by

Jeffrey Stewart

I am the son
of a man called Nowhere, and Nowhere is my name.
Near the junkyard, beyond the pig farm,
my home is Nowhere.
Trains shake our floor
then fade away.
Cars bounce
through potholes outside our door, then they’re gone.
I am the sole heir of everything my father owns,
which is nothing.

This morning
I walked to school alone in a swirl of snow.
My father drove off in the pickup.
I had asked him, where are you going?
He said that tiny death-word,
nowhere.

I watch semis
as they clatter along near the high school,
as they leave the truck stop and restaurant.
They growl and rumble,
squeal over the bridge,
over the river,
exiting,
over the horizon,

anywhere.

Limerick

by

Jeffrey Stewart

There once were some rich guys bent on
using workers’ investments to spend on

yachts, condos, Lamborghinis,

the best fettuccinis.
Their motto: take the money Enron.

Winter

by

Jeffrey Stewart

The fire goes out,
woodsmoke weaves away
up the chimney now.

The house is cold,
she is gone,

the bitter tone of winter on everything.

Blue

by

Jeffrey Stewart

Van Gogh’s ear fell into my tea.
He said, "I’m as sorrowful as a winter willow."
Stormy sunlight drenched an ancient monastery.
A windblown cypress stooped over us
like a farmer’s mad old maid.

I was over-conscious of my bulbous brown face
and gnarled hands.
I wanted my friend to talk till starry night.
He wrapped the broken sunlight
like a kerchief round his head,
took colors and caressed them onto canvas.
His schizophrenic yellows danced in sky and fields.
His blues, greens and reds tangoed like river ripples.
In a vineyard working women
whined under twirling clouds.

Vincent, then, kissed me in the European way,
drank down my cold and bloody tea,
walked away alone towards the village,
through swaying, swirling wheat fields.
He died by his own hand in the blue of perfect art.

Lesson in Dreaming

by

Jeffrey Stewart

This is how to dream. First investigate the dreams of others.
It does not matter whether they are in color or black and white.
Enter and study. Look for the most successful dreaming.
If a dream doesn’t help, move on to another. Take
what is good, leave behind the feeble. Perhaps you will find
a land where all speech is singing, or a place where trees labor
and people sway in breezes. Stay a while in visions like these.
If you are in a dream where everyone simply watches the time,
leave.

As your skills develop, you will notice other people
entering your dreams, studying, refining. If you find
they don’t stay long, you may have to do some fine-tuning yourself.

If you discover new things entering your dreams
that you have never seen before, like eyelids of diamonds,
reeds growing on clouds or necklaces of angels, proceed onwards.
This is the beginning of vision and creativity.
You may still see many inadequacies in your dreams,
but these can be beneficial. You shouldn’t throw them away
till you have studied them meticulously. After a while,
if your dreams have become unique, you will find apprentice dreamers
coming again and again to your dreams, remaining there for many years.
They will ask countless questions. This is your chance
to pass on your talent to others. But be careful
not to give away your soul.

If the most unique and delightful dreams unfold, as generations
come and go, the quality of human dreaming will improve.
Then if some have powerless dreams, full of clichés, hostility
or abnormalities of some kind, they can discard such things
and begin again. Their dreams will transform into the mystical.
These dreams may bring enchantment to others or even end wars.

If you are puzzled about dreams and where to begin, go to the woods,
let trees and wind enter your sleep. Allow stars
to drop light in your soul, like rain in a pool, dancing.

Giving Thanks

by

Jeffrey Stewart

We thank you for muck in the gutters.
We thank you for yellow smog in the sky.
We thank you for blackened bricks
and piss behind buildings. We thank you
for the madman cursing in the park.
We thank you for the car crash
on Seven Hundred East. We thank you
for the ambulance wailing so triumphantly.
We thank you for dead cats in the streets,
for muggers and for broken glass.

Now to the only wise Judas, our savior,
be glory and majesty, dominion and power--
in the name of Judas, the only begotten Judas,
and the holy Judas,

amen.

Some Instructions on Bird Watching

by

Jeffrey Stewart

You might assume that, given the bigness and freedom of the sky,
birds would do a lot of joy flying, as it were, getting behind the wheel
and going for a spin for no particular reason.
This rarely happens. Nobody knows why.

Geese are known for flying in Vs. But don’t go jumping to conclusions.
Cranes do it too, and great blue herons, swans, sometimes seagulls.
Believe me, they’re not trying to impress you with their artistic ability.
Lots of birds, even those who are usually a bit standoffish, flock for migration.
But you rarely see one zip off and do nosedives alone or try to touch the sun.

You can think of a flock as a single organism, each bird
like a tiny atom in a molecule. This is the kind of stuff
that interests moody poets, philosophers and big-brained biologists.
Most people, with smaller brains than these, never give the flock
a second thought. They zip around from here to there in their BMWs
and Honda Accords, fixing their hair or chatting on cell phones,
ignoring the sky, disregarding deserts, forests, the road.

Birds have tiny brains too and hardly ever think about anything besides eating.
That’s why they flock together, simply because they can’t stop and think
how to get from A to B on their own. This is known as a scientific theory.

Incidentally, since you’ve never considered this, the grosbeak’s beak is gross.
Nobody knows why this is. Scientists are determined that there are
explanations for everything in nature. They believe that
once you give something a Latin name of a dozen syllables or so,
then it’s entirely understood. They gloat like goats when they can impress you
with their fancy phrases and dazzling white lab coats.
Scientists need to get out more, give their brains a stroll in the park,
have a hotdog or feed the ducks.
Some things just are and can never be explained.

Like many species of birds, people also flock together, whether it be at dances,
parties or political rallies. And people have bigger brains than birds.
If you were up there with the birds would instinct take over
or would you fly off alone, do cartwheels through the clouds
or go roving above steep icy mountains without a thought or a care?

The great auk, like the dodo, was a flightless bird and therefore
had great difficulty migrating. By the time the migratory birds had got to Venezuela,
the great auk had moved about twelve feet. Unfortunately, the auk had no idea
that the world’s most dangerous predator could walk faster than itself
and could carry guns and large clubs. The last great auk got clubbed to death
in Iceland in 1844. Consequently, this removes great auks
from both the birdwatcher’s watching list and the endangered species list.

Reasons for choosing bird watching over, say, alligator watching,
mountain goat watching, buffalo watching or aardvark watching are many.
If you see a buffalo, for instance, so will a couple of hundred other people--
then you’ve got a mile-long line of cars.
And what do you have after stumbling along a gravel roadside
for what seems like forever? Just a buffalo.
But with birds you just have to walk out your back door and, wham!
there they are, singing their heads off, zipping around looking for worms and things.
You don’t even have to get in your car and drive anywhere. If you’re lucky
you can kick back in the backyard with a beer and a bag of pretzels.
The frickin creatures will go on with their business,
poking about in the grass and flying around right in front of you.
You won’t see a buffalo doing that in your backyard.

One more reason for choosing bird watching over other things is
you don’t have to possess a great deal of knowledge to enjoy the hobby.
Even small-brained people can appreciate it. As long as you can tell the difference
between a meadow and a meadowlark, you have grasped the art of birding.