A Few Powerful Spaces
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About this ebook
This work was written in 2012 when I was lucky enough to be driving an ol drunkard roof plumber to work in Melbourne Victoria, since he had lost his license. One of his jobs was an egg shaped building next to the Alfred hospital and Fawkner Park ( an "egg for quacks" we called it). Now there is just something about Fawkner City Park where I spent those days, a well of resonance, of intention for so many people, for better health and meditation or worse war between nature and mad capitalism rush. Inspired by the beats, the chaotic nature of these poems, streams these conscious essences with a wild vernacular, a spiritualism guided by the modern doof electric festival culture. And so while some are quite large world and impossible, there are many micro moments from my simple humble camera balance as well...
Jason B. R. Maxwell
As a 33 spiral-year-old performing poet, and grounded hippy father of two beautiful daughters, I am currently living and dreaming happily in Victoria Australia. I am also studying a dual bachelor of Art In Professional Writing and Publishing and Literature and Composition by long distance learning. My favourite styles include beat and post beat free verse, with subjects that range from political to the spiritual metaphysical to the memoir momentary. I am also currently working on an extended memoir from childhood, trying to bring back all those beautiful dreams me, my brother and my gypsy mother had travelling commune and festival Australia in the 90's. However most of the time I'm just back from a dream of now and loving the great bright scholarship of life itself. W spiraling shells of the universe -Jas :) P.S. feel free to e-mail me about anything really; jsun_maxwell@live.com
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A Few Powerful Spaces - Jason B. R. Maxwell
A Few Powerful Spaces
By Jason B.R. Maxwell
Poems From 2012
A Few Powerful Spaces
By Jason B.R. Maxwell
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2014 Jason B.R. Maxwell
ISBN: 9781370045372
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This work was written in 2012 when I was lucky enough to be driving an 'ol drunkard roof plumber to work in Melbourne Victoria, since he had lost his license. One of his jobs was an egg shaped building next to the Alfred hospital and Fawkner Park ( an egg for quacks
we called it). Now there is just something about Fawkner City Park where I spent those days, a well of resonance, of intention for so many people, for better health and meditation or worse war between nature and mad capitalism rush. Inspired by the beats, the chaotic nature of these poems, streams these conscious essences with a wild vernacular, a spiritualism guided by the modern doof electric festival culture. And so while some are quite large world and impossible, there are many micro moments from my simple humble camera balance as well...
Group Photo
Walking, space-drumming-humming, machinery artworks alive, a summer’s motion memory. Your invisible, things are brighter that way, all made for toy vehicle consciousness to find another way through the expanse, just like a day face street lamp turned off, just like empty cerebral cross road with wild destiny fraught winds at intervals, and you alight on this, nothing much to do and revel, this Fawkner Park is city well-meaning heaven.
On the tarmac track, sudden coin-train spinning, there an ordinary moment, there on the ground, a dollar shinning like a traffic light. You grab it, smile and then tree-sit-light, another light joins you, - no stranger that we leave behind, is he your stranger-friend or your mirror? It doesn’t matter that you can’t decide, 5 faces familiar in him, all conversing in your mind, radiating butterfly in the expanse.
He opens a rare city park convo, with the calm heat haze in his voice; hi, beautiful place isn’t it?
maybe he knows you meditate… But he seems alittle on edge in the following gaps, finding his overly overt uncomfortable work subjects while skipping over some abyss you cannot put your finger on, his eyes blink-click.
And then the talk-weather leading to left-wing leading to spirituality banter, words agree the world is mad, a collective cohesion too close to suicidal thought. And yet the moment is not this, you pass on the peaceful gap between your thoughts as you part and he gets up, smiles. You understand what silences you both said;
"who knows, maybe the big cow-bull beast will fall asleep in the flower field of space, maybe amongst it’s mind, wielding