ORIGINAL PROSE & PHOTOGRAPHS by Kirk Jarvis

Sadly, I don’t think I have ever read more than a handful of poems in my life. Unlike my mother who could read several books a week, it wasn't until my late 20's that I actually began to enjoy reading.  First was anything to

do with acting and scripts, then full force into spiritual books.  Growing up I read mostly baseball box scores.

When I had a paper route I would get off the school bus and the stack of newspapers would be at the end of  

the street waiting to be delivered. The first thing I did was to check to see how many hits Paul Molitor or Robin

Yount had the day before. It was amazing. It was always like 3 for 4, 4 for 4, 5 for 5.   I dreamed of hitting like

that.  Anyway, back to writing.  I remember English class maybe 5th or 6th grade, the teacher trying to teach

us the dynamics of poetry with loads of technical jargon to explain the beats/rhythms of the poem —  I just stared out the window designing football plays visualizing who I was going to pick for my team at recess.

I felt frustrated that I was such a poor student. My mind always creating and wandering off.  These days they

have specific terminlogy for this kind of behavior.  It was not out of laziness that I did not want to learn, it was

lack of interest. I think most of us are that way by nature ---  innately exerting our energy towards things we desire rather than what "society" wants us to spend OUR time on.  

To this day, my mom, Connie, was the greatest teacher of any person I've met.  She was a passionate actress

who inspired everyone she came in contact with.  Back in the day, I had several parties where a select group

of people were invited. Somehow word spread and the house was bombarded with teens looking for the 1/4 keg.  

I was amazed how many teens would gather around my mom in the kitchen for deep conversations.  It's not like

she was telling a bunch of jokes or stories -- she simply listened to them, laughed with them, and cared;  offering non judgemental advice when she saw fit.  She introduced me to the work of Edgar Cayce and I read many books about him years later.  If I remember correctly, a young Cayce,  a devout Catholic, was having troubles with his studies.  His father was disappointed with him and Edgar was frustrated as well.  He began reading the Bible and praying hard so he could pass his tests.  If memory serves me, at one point he brgan putting his study book

under his pillow before sleep. One day he woke with tremendous knoweldge and was able to retain everything needed to pass his exams.  “The Sleeing Prophet"  went on to be one of the most  notable "seers," healing thousands of people worldwide by going into a self-induced meditative state then listing specific natural

remedies and procedures for tending to their ailments.  In his later years he heeded his own interpretations for wellnes, settling in Virginia Beach to take advantage of the healing powers of the ocean.

I think every musician or artist will tell you that once they are in a creative zone,  they tap into something they

really don't know how to explain - things simply flow through them.  It goes beyond the powerful results of repetition and practice.  When you see a 3 year old that can instinctively play the piano it kinda gives us a

glimpse into the big picture.  Anyway, like I said, I don’t  know what my writing is or what it should be called,  

but  I chose the word  "prose."   No complaints so far.  Writing has been holding my hand for decades and has helped me through the unbearable times --  the messages from spirit helping me heal and get back in the

game. Hopefully some of these written pieces will connect with others.  The photos go back decades, but

most are from my recent years of living in South Jersey by the shore.

Lately I have been writing song lyrics — I had written a handful over the years, but since 2019 it has consumed

me in a very peaceful way.  I have several hundred sets of lyrics now and they won’t stop.  Sometimes up to 4

a day and then maybe nothing for several days --  but averaging 30 or so a month since October of 2019,

ironically following the death of my father Charles Irving Jarvis Jr. , who was a television director and jazz

drummer who led a big band orchestra in his younger years.  Upon reading my poems for the first time he said,  

"these have nice beats...they could be songs."  Often I'll go back and read some of them and I don’t even

remember writing them.  Once a thought is triggered,  I drop everything and write immediately, at the very

least,  I jot down a title that will help remind me of what I was feeling so I can write something later.   I am

very grateful that singer-songwriter Daniel Keiser has taken many of these lyrics and brought them to life.    

Check out his music, live performance dates & music videos we did at: danielkeisermusic.com