Iteration

Foto by Jason Weaver, 2017

Foto by Jason Weaver, 2017

He’s been here before,
he’s almost sure; it’s nearly the same
although some details have changed;
what once was up is now down,
left has become right,
and something in the core
has shifted slight, but the rest appears
familiar, too familiar in fact,
and that is what has tipped him off.

“Aha! a test,” silently he speaks in his head,
“now just to remember… ”
Yes, he is convinced he knows.
Well, best not be too cocky, go slow,
more than once egotism has led to strife.

“See it for what it is,” he reminds himself.
As the scene plays out before him,
he seems to watch it all externally —
from over his own left shoulder,
he sees his hands, hears his voice,
they are his, and yet somehow
…ethereal…

And almost as soon as it begins,
it ends, each voluted turn drawn
tauter, denser, quicker as
minutesdaysmonthsyears
collapse in on themselves.

Iteration–Extinction–Inception

Yes, he has been here before,
this time he is certain; it’s nearly the same,
of course some details are changed;
He sees it for what it is, an experience
sees every step he must take
on an elliptical path of existence,
every birth, every death, and
every life to be had within.

By Jason Weaver, 2017

 

Change

Leaflets_JasonWeaver_LoveMoreStudio

Leaflets– acrylic on canvas by Jason Weaver (2014)

They closed the doors
for the final time that day
to the ol’ café, you know

I worked there once, years ago
and it hadn’t much changed since the time I left, nor
much at all since well before I’d ever arrived —

a presence of permanence inside
those walls, I can yet recall a swell of laughter from behind the bar
— a grand echo of gufFAW-haw-haw-haw

and a steady clonk of heavy-heeled shoes that fall
upon the well-worn wood floorboards– the boss
tok tok tok tok tok tok tok tok tok tok tok tok

a rush–
through the open entry an endless crush
of patrons, and waiters, and busboys who hurry by
passing in and out, in and out, in and out, in

and out of a place that is no more, since
they closed the doors
for the final time that day to make way

for change.

by Jason Weaver, 2014

Original Artwork by Jason Weaver, Leaflets (2014), acrylic on canvas, 70x120cm

Poem dedicated to all of my friends and colleagues at the Van Dyke Café, whose closing played on my mind while painting this week. Ultimately, I wanted to convey a sense that change is neither good nor bad but a necessary component for our understanding of the world– repetition broken by change allows us to see events in new ways, to grow from them, to break free of them or to embrace them further. It is a sentiment that is both nostalgic for the past and hopeful for the future–and no amount of change of place can take away the friendships that we created during that time. Thank you all for the memories ~peace, Jason

LINKING up with DVERSE poet’s pub this Saturday Night— submitting this for a prompt on repetition– stop on by and join the fun!