Exiled from Zion: Confusion and Dim Wisdom Through the Non-Lit Day

By Bill Jacobks

These poems stretch over two years of my life, during which I struggled to understand who I am and what my purpose in my life as it is now close to end. These poems are full of angst and sometimes utter despair and sometimes just blind absurdity, but they always led me somewhere, to a place new within my consciousness that I did not know existed. They are a conversation with myself, whomever that is. The characters are the residents of my imagination to which I turned because my rational empirically minded self could not give me the answers that I needed. I did not find myself, but neither in the end did I lose it. Between doubt, loss, and redoubled effort, there the self exists. No one can say s/he found it, but if one looks with care and willingness to face the ugliness and the beauty within in an honest and sincere fashion, one has found something new and sustaining. Maybe that’s the best we can do.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796014471

Bill Jacobks

Bill Jacobks was native of Chicago, then Austin, Tx where he went to graduate school at the University of Texas in history and political science. He and his wife moved to Muskegon, Mi. where he taught at Muskegon Community College and where his wife was Assistant Financial Aid Director. While at MCC he went to St. John’s Graduate Institute in Santa Fe, NM and received a degree, Master of Liberal Arts. He is retired. His wife died in 2017 and these poems and three other books of poems are the attempt to find a new life without her.

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Copyright © 2019 by Bill Jacobks.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2019901006

ISBN:                Hardcover                              978-1-7960-1435-8

                           Softcover                               978-1-7960-1436-5

                           eBook                                    978-1-7960-1447-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 02/05/2019

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Table of Contents

A Sort of Preface

The True Self: Finding, Losing, and Discovering (?)

The Ego Speaks

True Self, true self, true…

Dialogue in a Diner at the End of the Universe

Not a Resolution

In the Dark: Losing the Self

Discovery?

Journey to Israel: Odyssey to the Sacred Past 4/10-22/2018.

Doubts….Always Doubts

Poems From An Unknown Source

Themes of a life without a green card

Poems about Mythic Women

Somewhere Between an End and a Beginning

Dedication

To my sister, Lillian, who made this project real;

To Beth, who stood by me in my deepest depression;

To Laura, who listened to my corny jokes;

To Laura, my niece, who suffered with me;

To Sherri who befriended me;

To Elsa, my priest, who let me be;

To the grief group, who bled tears with me;

To all who, grieve, what can I say.

A Sort of Preface

These poems stretch over two years of my life during which I struggled to understand who I am and what my purpose in my life as it is now close to end. These poems are full of angst and sometimes utter despair and sometimes just blind absurdity; but they always led me somewhere, to a place new within my consciousness that I did not know existed. They are a conversation with my self, whomever that is. The characters are the residents of my imagination to which I turned because my rational-empirically minded self could not give me the answers that I needed. I did not find my self; but neither in the end did I lose it. Between doubt, loss, and redoubled effort there the Self exists. No one can say s/he found it; but if one looks with care and willingness to face the ugliness and the beauty within in an honest and sincere fashion, one has found something new and sustaining. May be that’s the best we can do.

THE TRUE SELF: FINDING, LOSING, AND DISCOVERING (?)

A Precaution:

Trying to find one’s true self rests on the belief that such an ethereal thing exists. All the literature of psychology and philosophy and poetry tells one that such an interior dimension does in fact exist. Throughout life one senses its presence and certainly in dreams it appears. But, what really is it? Because the self is so bound to emotion, poetry seemed the best way to explore this question. So, then here is my adventure, or perhaps misadventure.

Prologue: A Distant Brother, Poe

I understand now

Edgar Allen Poe

His brooding

Darkness of soul

I understand now

Why he sought to

Blot it out

With drams and more drams

It is a terrible

Dripping on the soul

Of something oily

And fearful

To which one is

Bound without escape

A presence one

Cannot identify

But know it to be

Horrific and damaging

Only words defend

And they be poor protectors

For in the night

The dark, inky

Foggy night

When vision fails

They come unbidden

Grimly laughing

Yellowish red teeth

Flashing in the glow of the lamp

They are there

By your side

Waiting for your weakness

To manifest itself

And they will pounce

Upon you without

Mercy or shame

Devour you with glee

Tear your soul apart

Holding pieces of it up

To heaven

Laughing, always laughing

They laugh not at jokes

Their humor is not

The pleasant turn of phrase

Nor learned wisdom disguised

But defiance of all

That is holy and good

And you cannot

Resist them

Waves of Self

The turmoil within

Rolls around

Like an unquiet sea

Uncertain of its power

Father Poseidon

Stands watch

Over the sea

Ready to assist

Uncertain