John “Jay” Samuel Thiemeyer III, 73, of St. Johns in Portland, died on Thursday, March 11, at Sunnyside Medical Center. He was born and raised in Norfolk, Virginia, where he attended medical school before leaving to make his way cross country, eventually calling Portland his home.
Jay was an activist and poet who generously gave to causes he believed in with his time and money. He was also a survivor of more than two decades living on the streets — a credit to his strong constitution and warm and wicked sense of humor.
He was one of Street Roots’ original poets and a frequent contributor to the paper, with poetry, personal travelogues and book reviews. In 2006, he published a chapbook of poems, “Marginal Notes” (The Habit of Rainy Nights Press). He also volunteered his time with KBOO radio, providing book reviews and co-hosting a weekly show focused on homeless issues called “Hole in the Bucket.”
He was a passionate advocate for people on the edge and wrote about life on the streets with an unvarnished sense of humanity. He was also a virulent critic of the U.S. government’s endless wars here and abroad — all of which worked its way into this poetry and writings. He is deeply missed.
A memorial gathering will be held at noon April 4 in Cathedral Park at 6543 N. Burlington Ave.
In lieu of flowers, memorials may be sent to JOIN, which helps adults and children make successful transitions out of homelessness and into permanent housing. Visit joinpdx.org/donate to learn more.
FROM STREET ROOTS: “At rest in the mission,” by Jay Thiemeyer (2010)
A selection of Jay’s poetry
previously published in Street Roots
Free Fall
The image in free fall
With smoke rising
From the black ground
A child hung
Against the peppered yellow sky
Stone’s fences, broken land
Thrown about by the unclad hand
A manicured bloodless
Finger on the stitching of the world
In such a sad world
What is a sad girl? An image hung
A lateral pass, we are caught
We are left holding the bag
We must catch her
Wrap her shocked bones in the flag
Carry her from the field
With our dread honor
Webbed by a question
Suspended by time
And the food on the table
Back home in the states
And the missiles and drones
Brain dead to our touch
Will carry us indefinitely
While skirting the expression
Of why this is done
To what point,
When it will end.
N.S.A.
long after the smoke cleared
and the sun
was reflected
again
off metal
and broken glass
there still was the smell
and the sounds of us running
like small dogs biting
at air
yapping and running
in circles
going nowhere
fast; but we knew
we HAD done something
we set out to do
early
before first light
Untitled
what does the river say
at this hour,
2 a.m. on a chill morning,
no one about, save an old woman
walking her small black dog
like a shadow
on the unlit streets?
and sliding on the water appearing overhead,
a barge with red lights resembling
an outsized alligator waiting
am I delusional at that hour,
in need of sleep;
is that why I walk down by the river then,
to pray on my feet?
or is it to listen to the trains grinding,
as they move back and forth,
great black chains,
dragged hugely,
by a motherly form,
from way deep in the Earth?
I have my bike to tow me
there and back
the exercise of mounting the bluff
through Cathedral Park
rips out all the char
in my chest and my nostrils
beg for the air.
a separate space in a river moment.
I feel criminal, it’s so free
and dark there;
only a form among the trains
as I pray with the water
Street Roots is an award-winning weekly publication focusing on economic, environmental and social justice issues. The newspaper is sold in Portland, Oregon, by people experiencing homelessness and/or extreme poverty as means of earning an income with dignity. Street Roots newspaper operates independently of Street Roots advocacy and is a part of the Street Roots organization. Learn more about Street Roots. Support your community newspaper by making a one-time or recurring gift today.
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