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In A Night Without Armor, her first collection of poetry, Jewel explores the fire of first love, the fading of passion, the giving of trust, the lessons of betrayal, and the healing of intimacy.
I've learned that not all poetry lends itself to music -- some thoughts need to be sung only against the silence. There are softer and less tangible part[s] of our selves that are so essential to peace, to openheartedness, to unfolding the vision and the spiritual realm of our lives, to exposing our souls. - Jewel, From the Preface.
Writing poems and keeping journals since childhood, Jewel has been searching for truth and meaning, turning to her words to record, to discover, and to reflect.
In A Night Without Armor, her first collection of poetry, Jewel explores the fire of first love, the fading of passion, the giving of trust, the lessons of betrayal, and the healing of intimacy.
She delves into matters of the home, the comfort of family, the beauty of Alaska, and the dislocation of divorce.
And then there are the images of the road, the people, the bars, the planes, places exotic and mundane, loneliness and friendship.
Frank and honest, serious and suddenly playful, A Night Without Armor is a talented artist's intimate portrait of what makes us uniquely human.
I Miss Your Touch
I miss your touch
all taciturn
like the slow migration of birds
nesting momentarily
upon my breast
then lifting
silver and quick--
sabotaging the landscape
with their absence
my skin silent without
their song
a thirsty pool of patient flesh
Insecurity
you don't call
I check again
I become uneasy--
is this a frame?
Suddenly I'm not so sure
I check my sources
each conversation becomes a crumb
how easily I'm led
how stupid I've been
to believe
you could be
loving me
you who can not be seduced
by anything other than
the temperance
of need
each one facilitating the next
and suddenly I see my place
the phone rings
you say hello
but I don't believe you
I Say to You Idols
I say to you idols
of carefully studied
disillusionment
And you worshipers
who find beauty
in only fallen things
that the greatest
Grace
we can aspire to
is the strength
to see the wounded
walk with the ...
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Finishing second in the Olympics gets you silver. Finishing second in politics gets you oblivion.
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