About Me

Yes I am a poet, as if the world needed another, right? Well, as you will discover (if you haven't already), I am good at this craft. I like to type on the computer or typewriter when I write (whatever meets my mood at the time). I am honest and to the point, meaning I am not afraid to say what I think. I like walks in the park and late night phone conversations. I like to read Bukowski when I take a shit on the toilet and Rilke when it rains. I think that Snyder is brilliant. I know that there is a God, but I have serious doubts about organized Christian religion. I am a Pisces, which means I am moody, emotional and sensitive. I like to drink vodka in the afternoon, but don't call me a drunk, because I can out drink any of you little shits. I am not athletic, but I exercise occasionally. I am a vegetarian. I write to get this loud voice of poetry out of me and into words. Please... only the serious should read on. I am not interested in the boring, mundane, average or the needy. I am not attempting to be a hero, nor am I a role model. I am just a poet with an honest voice. I am awaiting your reaction to my poetry.

Poem Of The Moment

Second Wind (from "Disarming The Atom Bomb")

they thought I was gonna take the dive
give it up for something easy
roll over into a
blank smile

but I was lucky
I kept a piece of me
and it ignited like a
spark
and I ran into the bathroom and washed my face
and I looked at myself in the mirror

I saw everything
all the imperfections suffocating me
like the past bleeds the mind

it was enough to stop

and

gasp for air

sometimes when you are on a roll
it doesn't matter if the outcome is good or bad
what matters is that you are
going somewhere
and the adrenaline and the self contrived power
is all that really
matters

and I saw through my facade
and I knew that I was down on the ground for the count

I had buried myself for an easy emotional adjustment
my creativity had been stifled
my dreams were hardly existent anymore
I was stinking of hard liquor and vomit
with a three day beard

but this spark
this remaining piece of me
shouted through my being
like a conscious
grabbing me from the dark abyss I was falling into

and I knew then
what was left to do
I had to face myself before the count was over

so I broke through
I became the singular moment of my life as it was
as time slowed down
as I found my new way

I was a fighter
some archaic warrior
drawn up from the dust in me
unafraid anymore
ready to face the worst demons in me

and then the light

the light was powerful

it started as a spark in me
and it grew

it grew until
I was glowing

and then something, I was thinking, something,
what was the anger about? what was the hatred about?
had time been wasted?
had love been lost?
how much of my innocence had been transformed?
how much of me was gone?


as I stared at myself in the mirror
I saw that my face was still of youth and vigor
I knew that time was still on my side

I turned away from my reflection
and I thought to myself "this is it, this is where I need to go,"
and I knew that I could no longer run from myself anymore
I needed to stand up and
fight

News

  
The NEW book "A Slip Of The Tongue" is now available for purchase on lulu.com!

A Slip Of The Tongue

Visit my myspace page for the most current news and to read the latest poetry from my blog.

"The Journey Of The Spirit" is available for purchase on lulu.com. Please visit my storefront for more information.

The Journey Of The Spirit   The Journey Of The Spirit

Current Projects

I am working on a chapbook of poems (which I am calling "Disarming The Atom Bomb") and will have more information about it soon.

My band Meridius has been around since 2001 and I work on that music when I have the patience. We have a myspace page which you can hear samples of our songs at and find out more information.
 

Selected Poetry


I've Been Waiting (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

in this small room
second floor
staring through screen windows ... (more)

Starting Again (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

summer is over
and a cool breeze moves in through the patio door;
the palm leaves outside sway and come alive ... (more)

A Letter To Raphael (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

I never claimed to be a poet,
a romantic,
a healer ... (more)

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Copyright © 2006 - 2009 by AJ Lewis
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