Saturday, December 29, 2012

What's To Eat?

"What's to eat?"

"Green apples, green apples,
My Grey-eyed Gander,
Green apples aplenty for you!
And if you don't care for green apples,
Why not sample the stew?"

"What's in it?"

"Turnips, and new potatoes, My Dumpling,
Cowpeas and mutton head,
But if the cauldron leaves you cold,
Have some yellow bread!"

"How'd you make it?"

"Sweet corn flour and rosewood honey,

My Chubby Little Custard,
Eggs and milk, and if you don't like that,
Then help yourself to the mustard,
You sorry son of a beeeeeeep!"


-jenn long

Gain of Innocence

The names were changed
To protect the gain of innocence,
But their stories were never the same.
Strange footwear was dropped one night in Kitale,
When the stars weren't pre-arranged.
The clouds of witness got big-eyed and rained cold,
But the verses emitted warm life.
And the two were swiftly acquitted
Of screwing educated life.
Then they said, "To hell with tomorrow,
With to be or not to be!"
"Parting would be pure sorrow," she said,
"No sweetness at all to me!"

-jenn long

Pocket Money

I just want to be your pocket money,
Janglin' around in that favorite front left,
The stuff you can spend on whatever you want,
And no one can say a word.
Warm and worn and saved for the rainies,
Cherished like a precious bird,
I want to be your chosen vessel--
The one that comes together just so,
The piece you put back,
And sign your name to,
The one that you just can’t let go.
Let me be the apple in your butter,
The cream in your mocha latte.
Swirl me around with you and let me be
The swah in your sweet soirée.

-jenn long

Friday, December 28, 2012

Idea of Beauty

I'm gonna wear you smooth down,
You rugged rock of Gibraltar, you.
With my insignificant condensations,
I'll eventually get through.
And since you don't think
I'm cool or hip,
I'll work you over drip by drip,
Til your Idea of Beauty alters,
And the arms fall off my statue.

-jenn long

All There Is To Love

I don't hold space in that place any longer,
But thank you so much for asking.
And thank you for speaking so kindly
To my avatar down there.
But I have seen the world grow small
And round as an India rubber ball,
And hang in the unlit matters and energies,
And wobble in its precession.
And sometimes tiny sparks will snap,
Indecipherable arcs pop, like bubble wrap,
For a nanosecond in the dark,
And that, my friend, is all there is
To love.

-jenn long

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Vinegar and Brown Paper

The vinegar and brown paper
Have patched my swollen head,
But my heart valves still leak for you.
And those who would try and take your stead—
They pay their dues,
But can’t fill your shoes,
Or put theirs under my bed.
But turn, and cast a glance my way,
With a warm look, cauterize
The hole between my ventricles
That seeks approving eyes,
And with Love’s sweet tickles,
To tender clavicles,
Correctives may improvise.
-jenn long

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Misery Mode

Ah, you've gone into your misery mode.
I can tell it even from your letters—

You’ve been in the presence of your punishers,
Found guilty of the invisible crime
Of wanting to be happy just once.
You’ve paid the penalty over and over,
Can't be caught naked with anybody beautiful.
You make bail by never making any fun.

The prison system's been shut down, Sir.
The doors have opened,
The bars all sprung.
Your pleasure redeemed,
So go in peace,
You've been free now for quite some time.

-jenn long

Dream, Lover

Hide under my pillow,
And listen to me dream, Lover,
To know the doubts that drip
Their darkness into my days.

Hide your eyes, and count to ten,
And if you never scream, Lover,
“Ready or not,” I'll let you see
My secret hiding place.

And if you never run and tell,
But stay to see what I mean, Lover,
Then maybe I'll remove this veil,
And let you see my face.

-jenn long

Poem in the Snow

I shadowed a figure of myself
Against a wintry sun.
Parallels crossed and I found myself
Just a little bit behind.
I marveled at her beauty and the grace
In every stride.
How beautiful I was, from a distance.
How wise I appeared,
When my mouth was shut.

She stood against a backdrop
Of the virgin forest,
And had the good sense to run from me.
She vanished into forever
In the order of Melchizedek.
I wrote a poem for her in the snow—
The best one I’d ever dreamed of.
It melted into the ground with her
As the skin peeled off my leg.
I wondered that it didn’t hurt.
I never even felt it,
But detached beneath the old,
So baby soft,
And pink, and new,
Was my new self,
Never to lag again.

-jenn long

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Reality Check on Aisle 6

A holy spirit of healing un-comeliness
Was alive and well today,
At, of all places, Walmart.
Hustle and Bustle were drawing down mouths.
Guilt rode the eyes, yoked together, and whipped them.
Worry lined each brow preposterously,
Until the one armed man walked thru.

The physical effect was immediate
On anyone who cared enough to notice him,
As he pulled his buggy along.
Reality shook sense into us, one by one,
As we realized our own brands of fortune and luck.
I blinked hard twice, myself,
And thanked the Fates,
That while he was calling on others,

He did not pass me by.


-jenn long

Chugga Chugga

You breathe in,
And I'll breathe out.
We'll chug along
You shovel the coal.
I'll let off steam.
We'll take the wind
And beat the rain,
And have no regard for the weather.
But if ever we both breathe out at once,
Collapse of the system is imminent.
Derailed, might be a good thing, though—
For new horizons, and off road sentiments.

-jenn long


44,000 sorghum pedigrees,
Thirty-seven hundred different dates of bloom,
And only one brand here on the shelf:
Dark Ribbon Molasses,
Trying to run uphill this January.

-jenn long

A Whiter Rose

He doesn't want me to embarrass him,
And so, in that way,
He wishes me well.
But not so much
That I might outpace him.
And so, in that way,
He gives me hell,
And goads me with a whiter rose
And a better name.

-jenn long

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Lucky You!

Lucky you!
Born into the right religion!
Going to heaven smooth on arrival!
Never a worry! Never a care!
But! You’ve hung your prism
Where the sun doesn’t shine,
And you’re never going to see
Those beautiful rainbows!

-jenn long


For 364 consecutive days,
She’s borne the illusion of victory,
That all is well in her Queendom,
And the appearance of show must go on.
But every dog will have its day,
And coming soon to a theatre near you,
That one fell swoop,
When the veil is ripped.
Yes, Waterloo sloshes anon.

-jenn long

Friday, December 21, 2012

Prophetic Fire

“I have a feeling it’s gonna burn,”
He said of his old house there in the driveway.
“Lots of things burn out there, you know?”
He relapsed into a faraway smile.
He never heard another word I said.
The promise of phoenix rising means nothing to him.
He had a bootstrap theology
And pulled himself up.
He didn’t bother praying for disaster
When he had the power to create his own.

-jenn long



Went down for the last time—

Cold water burned my lungs away,

Til all that was left was a feeble plea,

“Save me! Save me! Please!”

A friend is driving on the bridge.

The music is up too loud.

Stiff-necked he goes without a thought

That he’ll never see me again.


And now the glassy vision blurs.

Everything goes liquid spray.

The sun may rise on you tomorrow,

But for me, this last season

Has done me in. I’m done with proud—

Done with the things I ever sought—

Done with my last stand,

And this is good.

For freedom sets me strong beneath,

And renaissance comes in power and blood,

And never gives up,

And never is caught,

And this new life


Without stain.


-jenn long

End of the Long Count Calendar

It didn't feel like a Friday.
I couldn't assess the time.
And if the Mayans could be off this badly,
What hope did Gregory have?
It's not as vain as a Monday,
Yet twice as dreary blue.
I think I'll call it Sclerfday
And square only the hypotenuse.

-jenn long

Why? Why Not?

He glared out his window,
Muttered curses at me,
"Why doesn't she zip her coat?
Why doesn't she put her hat on her head?
Damn Fool!"

I had my reasons.
I had been walking for some time,
And was warm.
Hat in hand, I sought sweet penance.
But, must I justify even my Spirit,
To the hypercritically fickle?
No, probably not.

-jenn long

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Poetrix's Pentam

You know you love me, baby!

I know you can’t stand it

When I break meter

And urinate rhyme.

But I know you read me.

You say I’m too good for you,

But what you really mean is

You’re too good for me,

And too high fallutin’

To admit that it’s time

That you go clastic

With icon and iamb,

And throw yourself

Into the Poetrix’s Pentam.


-jenn long

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Grinchy Jenn Strikes Again

Tis the season for babies to cry,
Red faced and bursting with constipated tears,
Impatient for the presents
Their parents hide
Neath the bonus pack paper towels.
Grimaces and hernias pack the stores.
A smile is precious and hard to spy.
Not even the children are innocent, now,
In the midwinter's push for more.

-jenn long

Recumbent Bikes

Recumbent bikes
And recombinant passion!
Let's split the double spiral
For Bora Bora.
We’ll retire amid tiny umbrellas
And have no more need for clothes.
Mango chutney
And tropical rivers
Are the only immunity to polar shifting.
We’ll unwind timelessly
As gravity releases,
And the magnetic scramble
Forgives us of memories.

-jenn long

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Exile's Reality

Exiled from my home planet,

I flew in search of sweet asylum,

Happened onto Elysium Fields,

Where the waters matched my eyes.

Potable tears have nourished me here,

But the quick turn-a-bouts

Have kept me dizzy.

The short, fast days

And shorter nights

Have had their toll on me.

And though, at first, they thought me a Goddess,

I find myself stuck in the natives’ rut,

Eating hard beans at the natives’ hut,

And it comes as no surprise,

But I find no divine self with me at all.

I’m really starting to look like a cow,

And lonely, I croon of reality,

“At least all my exes live in Nibiru.”


-jenn long

My Home in "San Antone"

I have a home

In San Antone,

In a parallel universe


I visit the palace


Traversed by recurrent dream.

I don’t know where

To begin really.

Someone’s got it all set up for me.

I want to change it,

And make it my own,

But, I don’t want to hurt any feelings.


-jenn long

Monday, December 17, 2012

Slow Leak

I have a slow leak in my spirit.
Gradually, I lose air.
Sometimes if I park just so,
I’m flat in a moment’s notice.
Tire kickers annoy the pejeezus out of me.
Knocking my breath out in random jerks.
But once in a blue moon,
Someone comes along
Willing to risk his lips at the hole,
And to blow.

 -jenn long

Hind Tit

He came in sucking hind tit—


Last rung on the old sales totem pole

Was him,

But that was ok,

‘Cause hidden below

Those polyester sansabelts

And that zip on tie

Was a love machine of the New Order.

Affection deprived as a child,

A tender orphan, weaned too early,

He tried every way but loose

To make up for all those years.

And he was full of sweet ambrosia,

Honeycombed glucose oozed

From his half lit, full throttled

Moves and desires,

And the urgency circumferencing his need.


-jenn long

Goodnight Kiss

First Date


We said goodnight,

But the day played on

Eternally whimsical in my mind.

The rushes of chilled, refreshing words

And shudders of love’s fair game.

New, like a full-blown honeymoon,

The nonexistent touch of the lips,

The kiss of delusion.

We tasted a picture of reality.

Then I hit the bed,

And in the darkness,

A burst of the most spectacular sexuality

Ripped me,

And sent me into the land of dreams.


-jenn long

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Until When?

On the planet of a million years,

I wait for you, My Love.

“Until when?” my heart cries

From the Timeless Valley.

But my disposition is settled.

The disciplined groove

Determined, resolved,

Finds an easy orbit

In the holding pattern,

The decade plan,

Or each continuing millennia,

Until your soul relaxes

With mine, in binary pulsar rhythm,

And we are pulled in centripetal force together

Into unity.

One focused point

And brilliant light flash,

And then, we disappear in merge.


-jenn long

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Coffee Talk

I’m more passive than aggressive,

More compulsive than obsessive,

More oral, than I am banal,

And way more retentive than I am anal,

But shibboleth leaves me bromide.


So forget the beaten bush attacks.

Rubber stamp the paperbacks.

I’m ok; you’re ok.

Now, let’s go inside,

And have some coffee and talk.


-jenn long

Finger Lock

Fingers are made to lock, at times,

To secure that precious bundle,

To help entwine your heart and mine,

And throw away the key.

So may the fires of pure acceptance

Burn the doors and walls of traditions,

That our love may live true and free.


-jenn long

Quantum Non-locality

I held that voodoo doll of you,

And with my hat pin

Poked it through

The heart, the spiritual aorta.

And yet the message of love I sent

Was hard and hot and instant,

And somehow synchronized

The only other photon in the cosmos

That could understand my ways.

Quantum nonlocality,

Two particles reacting instantly,

Affecting each other miles,

Or even, light years apart.

Strangely the forthright equations blurred

As a primordial parallel tanglement stirred,

And reversed even cause and effect.

Quickly! Sin and inverse cosine!

Send a message back in time

To a less jaded me.

No one should ever be an island,

Neither can the slightest photon!

Tell me not to fall for him.

Tell me you’re the one.

Tell me the question will heal the answer.

Whisper to me the cure for cancer.

Assure me the guarantee, “Free at Last,”

That somehow my future is healing my past—

The hope of my true calling.


-jenn long


“I’m glad you quit talking when you did.

I was getting a lump in my throat,” he said.

I hated to tell him, I was taking a breath,

But I had much more to say.

I shut up while I was ahead.

I figured falling into singularity,

And not caring about that, whatsoever,

Was quite enough for one day.

-jenn long

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Here, Kitty Kitty!

Dishes are done.

Poetry ‘s written.

Come sit on my lap,

Sweet Kitten,

And let me stroke your fur.

The fire is rosy,

And life is more cozy,

When I can hear you purr.

Reality TV

If I were watching this on television,

I know what I would want to happen.

My heart would crave to see the underdog

Finally stake his claim in happy,

With his long lost, star-crossed true love

Standing by his side.

I’d want to see him grab her up,

Swing her into his arms full circle,

And plant the long awaited kiss,

As the winds of renewal softly blow.

But this ain’t TV, baby,

So, how it ends nobody knows.

Apples and Oranges

We have a perfect little fantasy going.

Why screw it up with details?

Why dig under the illusions veil?

Why pull back the curtain at Oz?

Yes, we all see those feet sticking out there.

We know, with a click of our heels, we’re back home.

But there is no comparison, Dorothy,

Between Kansas, and somewhere over the rainbow.

You Can Do It

I’m not gonna try to eat that elephant

Right here, in one sitting.

That would be plain silly of me!

But, if you have a slice of lime,

I have quite the appetite,

And I’ll be hungry tomorrow.

I think I can handle that bad boy,

One bite at a time.

-jenn long

Friday, December 7, 2012

Reverse Psychology

He lay on the couch
And gave me advice
About raising children.
I sat with a pencil behind my ear,
Knees crossed, in red heels,
And tugged at my fitted skirt.
I wondered if I should be taking notes,
As he proceeded to tell me
What type of ad he wanted to place in the personals--
All of his requirements.
I felt my eyes narrow.
My lips perplexed,
Twisted into a question mark.
This was either the strangest come on,
Or the nicest blow off,  I'd ever had.
“That really sounds a lot like me,"
I said with hesitation.
He sat up on the couch and beamed,
"And how do you feel about that?"

-jenn long


Others have written deeper words
About the pull of gravity.
Equations and their derivatives
Warn about the curvature
Of space, and, even though, they say
The force is weak, I'm weaker still,
For when I fell into the net , attractions set,
And I couldn't get away.

But who's to say I wanted to?
For swept inside the orbits hold,
And whirled in with the galaxies,
The dizzied inverse finds in you
Dynamic equilibrium,
And piercing through
The darkest hold
Of deeper space,
The stunning light of day.

-jenn long

Make A Little Room For Me

Make a little room for me.
I don't take much space at all
If I lie upon one side,
And tuck my belly in.
And if I didn't need to breathe,
I'd really be no trouble,
But respiration  is what we Tiggers do best.
So let's breathe a bit again.                                     
Shall we?

-jenn long

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Fat, Ugly, and Stupid

“Yes, Doctor, sometimes I feel
Fat, ugly, and stupid.
Will you tell me,
Is that hormonal?”

“Well I don’t know, now let me see.
Hop up on my table,
Oh please, without the girdle.
Let me have a look at you.
Hmmmm. Well I’ll just be.
In my honest and, never to be humble,
Educated opinion,
It’s stupid, to feel stupid,
Ugly to feel ugly,
And honey, you ain’t fat,
So I would say, ‘yes,’
It must be quite the hormonal experience.
Burn the girdle,
And take three days off.”

 $137.50 and I shaved my legs for that….


-jenn long

Tuna and Ice Cream

Maybe I am going lulu,

But my tuna sandwich tasted like ice cream.

I devoured it in seconds and wanted more—

So sweet and delicious ,

Like it had come straight out

Of Pooh Bear’s Honey Pot,

Or maybe that’s what happens when we

Alter expectations,

And love the one we’re with,

And want what it is we got.

~jenn long

Side Effects

I forgot to tell my doctor

That I was pregnant, and nursing.

She gave me the medication,

And my condition was quite aided.

But I developed  butterfly tattoos

On my big old backside,

And my children were all born naked.


-jenn long

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Hair Gel Failure

For one moment I paced with movie stars.
Then, my hair gel failed me.
I degraded into a rumpled frizz
And had to cook some lunch.
I found I had no friends, just fans,
Who'd fashioned my persona
Around their fantasies.
They turned on me when I departed their scripts
And wanted to speak my mind.

And so during a convenient commercial break,
I slipped out the back and went to Walmart.
I'm not concerned about hair gel, anymore,
But their greeters are just so kind.

-jenn long

Out of Reach

The agony
That lies just out the door.
The blackness of the night cries
For the orphans poor,
Who long to suck
At mother's breast,
And cradled by the morning be,
But find no solace anywhere
And daylight always out of reach.
Yet even more encompassing,
The dark that dwells within,
The hidden plea of the abandoned one,
Just beneath my skin,
Who always finds the lonesome yearn
For the thing they never teach,
And the golden apples' satisfaction
Always out of reach.

-jenn long

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Teach Me

Teach me of goodness, My Lover,
For mine eyes have never seen
The gravitational net to spread
To capture the orbiting beam.
Teach me of love, My Goodness.
Let the formulae fully tell
Of the beauty that dwells in your heavenly orbs,
And banish the enemy’s hells.
Come, let us rest together,
In peace on Shiloh’s hills,
I will move over, and turn for you
The cold side of the pillows.

-jenn long

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Personal Evolution

This morning I could actually feel
My DNA unravel.
It exposed myself to me.
It explained my genetic code.
The tablet of my destinies
Recombined with environment.

It sounds ethereal,
But, in fact, it’s an intensely painful process.
Personal evolution happens
As the double helix explodes.

-jenn long

Eternal Life

Per written request,
I asked to be cloned.
I placed my hopes
In world without end,
And foresaw no way
To live forever.
I wanted the double portion,
And Elijah’s mantle.

Request ignored.
I wasn’t important
Enough to make the cut,
Sifted like a lamb
At the county stock show—
Common pedigree,
And improperly handled.

-jenn long

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Frozen Roses

The roses are frozen.
They are beautiful,
As long as you keep them
In the freezer.
But when you take them out, my friend,
They will wilt and die again—
The second death,
And no one will care this time.

-jenn long

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Sparklers and Paper Plates

If you’re gonna have a love affair,
You might as well go and make it a good one.
Why hustle for just a half an ass?
You can have that any old day!
Don’t bring out the good china!
That means work and dishes to wash!
Live dangerous!
To hell with the candles!
Put sparklers on the table,
Right up next to the paper plates!

Find someone who’ll grab you with both hands!
And kiss you like they mean it!
Someone who’ll stoop down to your level
And squeeze you in between!

-jenn long

Hermes' Take

His language of love was kleptomania,
And thus he stole my heart away.
He charmed me with a childish eyebrow—
The spark in his eye
Like a philosopher's stone.
He robbed my Peter
To pay my Paul,
Yet, he turned all my lead into gold.
I woke with a piece of my better self missing.
I woke, and even my dreams were gone.
"But what was left
Was better for his kissing,"
I thought, as I watched him take the dawn
And ride off, into the broad light of day.

-jenn long

High Maintenance

Oh I'm terrible high maintenance!
Hard to Please!
Been called “insatiable!”
Labeled a “tease.”
I just wanna feel something,
Like a heart-a-flutter.
And all it would’ve taken
Was … some Applebutter,

-jenn long

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Grover Cleveland Alexander

They named him after a president,
But he was born to pitch.
He fought his way to championship,
And won a world series for his trouble,
In spite of prejudice against
The players,
And the war.

They made a movie about the man.
The actor who played him, played him well,
Then went on to become a governor,
And then, himself, a president.

Funny sometimes how life layers in,
And all the things we do, and go through.
I used to play a doctor on tv,
And now, I’m going to medical school.

-jenn long

Nana's Blankets

When you are a Nana,
And a very good one,
You shouldn’t get too attached
To your stuff,
Because you never really know
When someone is going to find
One of your blankets
Irresistibly soft,
And have a dire need
To take it home with them,
And wrap up in it

So when you are a Nana,
Be a very good one,
And have lots of old blankets—
Plenty to spare.
‘Cause if you have lots of grandkids,
Someday, you might just find
Yourself without any covers
In your whole house.

-jenn long

Friday, November 23, 2012

Triple Love Dare

The Love Goddess
Her heart breaks
For the creeps,
The geeks, the nerds,
The spoiled little brats,
Whom normal women
Reject and slap.
“Come,” she says,
“Lay your head in my lap,
And let me stroke your hair,
Until you are full
And firm and strong,
And have the moxy
To move along,
And find yourself lovable,
And not just a pet,
And find yourself able,
To play hard to get,
And ace the triple love dare.”

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Common Wealth, Common Health

When we invest our hours
In longing for ones who can’t return
The love we send,
We delude ourselves.
We want the thing we cannot have,
Because we cannot handle
Having the thing we can,
And dealing with it
In truth.
But if we would desire to heal
And admit,
That what we need
Is a safety,
To lose the world
And gain our souls,
And get our vision back,
Then, the pull of strength from within
Would cause multitudes of do-able miracles
To come and orbit us, instead,
And we could, at will,
And out of great storehouses,
Choose the wealth
Of ancient treasures,
And newly minted coins.

-jenn long


He disregarded the warning label—
The one about the chest pains, and the nitrates.
He said he wanted the four hour erection,
And hoped he was one of the few.
He said he would never call his doctor
If something wonderful like that were to happen.
He said he had my number on speed dial
For just such an emergency.

-jenn long

Velvet Pants

I am missing a pair of pants, today.
They were velvet.
I don’t know what has happened to them.
I recall they developed some inopportune holes
In some, shall we say, modest places,
And not just the ones at the bottom,
Where the feet are supposed to dangle out.
But, I thought of them today,
And wished that the styles would cycle back through,
And once again,
Velvet pants could be purchased
At your local pants-ery.

But let this be a lesson to us,
We who are comfortable
And out of style.
Let us not wear our welcomes thin
In areas delicate.
Let us not say
We would cut one off,
When we don’t know
Where one’s getting it.
Or we might find ourselves
In a bag of rags
Headed for salvation army.

-jenn long

Starling and Stuffing

That black, beady starling reminds me of you,
All wrapped up in your coat of blue,
Home alone,
Eating crow,
When any fool knew,
That there was room
At the confession pew.

The Priestess
Would have pardoned you,
And forgotten her role
As charlatan,
And turned temple harlot
And taken you
By the hand and left with you.

But, in guilt, you flew.

I tell you, true,
That people do the best they can,
And they do what they wanna do.

-jenn long

Happy Holidays (for a change!)

How ‘bout you stuff me for Thanksgiving,
And I’ll wrap you for Christmas?
We’ll start a few—New Traditions,
That we might just want to keep.
We’ll hang our old cobwebs on a tree,
Then throw the whole thing out for New Year’s.
Burn it all, like a Yule-time log,
Then drift off in unconscious sleep.
We’ll dream our way into happiness,
As we check our eyelids for holes.
We’ll sleep walk and sleep talk for decades,
‘Til the shifting of the poles
Realigns our charters, and allows for better lands,
In warmer places, where sugar grows wild,
And the pantheon understands.

-jenn long

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Done Wrong Song

I ate almonds
And drank post oak jack,
And still had a first-class
Heart attack,
When I heard the news,
That you had the blues,
Cuz, your baby done you wrong.
I hung my little head and cried,
And wondered how I’d hemmed the tide
And stayed with you so long.
Then with lavender, hemp, and hyssop washes,
I cleansed away my sackcloth and ashes.
I felt so free,
And wished it were me,
Who’d done you so dang wrong.

-jenn long

Mourning Sleep

He took a flint
And cut his hair,
Awkwardly, in the front and side.
And I lay down
To sleep until
His hair grew out again.

-jenn long

Peaceful Possibilities

I walked on peaceful waters today.
The winter sky stark, under my feet,
As I tread lightly upon the glass.
The barrenness, white as my new shoe laces,
Held nothing but pure possibility,
Like new ground, waiting for the plough,
Like wheat amid the tares.
Nothing shall in any way harm me.
This I know, and fully declare,
And yet, if it does, I am also aware,
That all this, too, shall pass.

-jenn long

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Labor of Love

Such a labor,
Pushing the sun
Up to its zenith.
It seems to take forever.
Then, it falls so lusciously—
Nestea plunge, right into his bed.
The world was huge
On my shoulders, like Atlas,
And now it is gone—
Disappeared as I tossed it,
Past the hammered bracelet,
Out into dark orbits.

-jenn long

My Indentured Fiefdom

I worked 7 years for my Rachel,
And got Leah.
And so I worked another 7 for her,
For everyone needs a wife, or two.
And now, I’m working for my consort,
And you want me to work, for you.
But I am a little tired of working.
I want to frolic. I want to play.
I long to gambol through the meadows,
Not slave and sweat in them every day.
So hear me when I resign the onus.
Hear me as I sing, and sigh.
Run ahead, or alongside me,
But please, don’t hinder,
As I choose to dance between death, and sky.

-jenn long

Private Cleaner

I’m a very private cleaner.
I don’t like to do it when anyone’s around,
Watching me pick up scraps and nasties,
Putting the dirty socks in the hamper.
But give me a hidden moment to myself.
Let me howl with the hounds of heaven,
And go to town on this chicken noodle soup,
And I’ll be a very happy, clean, little camper,
Leastwise, as you consider.

-jenn long

Cult of Personality

Come enjoy my inmate hospitality!
Oh, did I say inmate, I meant innate.
Of course, we might only have bread and water
And a buggy little bed on the floor.
But I will gladly share with you
All of the captivity—
Way on into my half
If it leaves you wanting more.

Come be a worshipful participant!
Twice the prisoner of hell that I am!
Look around and see the weary,
Lobotomized looks that dull from all the eyes.
Submit yourself to the heavy yoke,
Where no one will lift a finger to help you.
They gave me a ring, and a robe of righteousness,
And it was just my size.

-jenn long

Saturday, November 17, 2012


I walked a mile in my own shoes tonight,
And I cried every step of the way.
I had empathy for myself
And poured out a wealth of understanding
From the kingdom that is within me.
The Tablet of Destinies had lied about me,
Directing me to things that were never going to happen.
The Fates had woven a shoddy tapestry
Out of second hand yarn.
But tonight I burned free, in a baptizing fire.
Nuclear brilliance fused within me,
And pure Soul fed me the Waters of Life
‘Til it cooled the Evil Wind.
Now, I see clearly the true possibility,
The Ways that open so deftly for me.
And I will reach that good-hoped future,
And I won’t be fooled again.

-jenn long

Friday, November 16, 2012

Damned Diana

A young woman leans down to kiss the head
Of a gray and haggard lady.
She gives her a hug, and pats her back,
And hands her a magazine.
“How ya doin’ today?” she asks.
“Fine,” the older woman says blankly,
And stares at some distant time.

“What's that damned Diana been up to?”
The older woman mutters angrily.
The younger woman pauses,
Then says, “I don’t know. You tell me.”
The older woman launches in
On a suspicious diatribe,
While the younger one listens intently
To what she's never heard before.

Finally finished, the younger one says,
“Diana loves you, Mama.
She never thought you would take it that way.
She meant all of that for your good.”

Then attendants come to wheel away
The older woman, suddenly.
“It's time for her shower,” they tell the other one flatly.
The young woman sits and sighs a sigh, of bitter comprehension,
Finally understanding a rift that happened so many years before.
“Thank you, Alzheimer’s,” she says to herself,
“For setting her free to speak her peace...”
And the aides whisper, “See you tomorrow, Diana.”

-jenn long

One Thing Is Needed

Prostitutes get into the kingdom faster,
So I try to locate my inner slut,
Try to internalize this hard saying,
And come to understand.
I think I'm getting closer,
But still one thing is needed.
I'm saving the best for last, True Love,
And the kingdom is at hand.

-jenn long

Hidden Man of the Heart

The hidden man of the heart,
So dark and quiet, in the deep,
Stately and restful, near asleep,
But wakeful, vigilant is he.
Waiting for the rush to churn,
Until the waters run still and clean,
Then with dripping pearls of wisdom,
He speaks so quietly.

-jenn long

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Devolving Me

By sweat of the brow is the orchard tended,
Cultivated, the grains and hays.
We toil to lay the garden by,
Fighting at bay the weeds.
But the scraggly grasses and stickerbush
Thrive and flourish in spite of us,
And, at times, the undeniable becomes too much for me.
I fall to my knees,
And down on all fours,
I shed my dignity to the urge
To graze on ragged and bitter dandelion leaves.

-jenn long

Leaf Litter

In the sanctuary of Autumn,
The rays of light come dancing,
Only visible because the litter of the leaf
Has pulverized and leapt up in the air.
It rises joyfully to meet them,
And lathers now with brilliance.
The tiny beads enchanting
Like the sunshine in your hair.

-jenn long

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Loyalty Letters

So, the loyalty letters stopped coming
In the 7th year of my reign,
And for awhile I was heartsick,
Cut off from the information.
But then I saw that the prophecies
Weren't being fulfilled, either,
And so I quit worrying about the sacrifice,
And began listening to my heart.
The destinies were not determined.
The gods were not immortal.
Megaliths crumbled beneath me,
But the sun never came up in the west,
And so the queen remained.

-jenn long

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Conversion Dance

Good morning, Sunshine!
Warm me through!
Smile on me,
And shine on!
Get under my skin,
And stir up
My salty conversation.
Your bigness makes me feel petite.
Let your strength bring out
My glitzy glam.
Let's stroll together,
Hand in beam,
Dancing in healthy conversion.

-jenn long


He went to “get away,”
Deer huntin’, he said,
But, he shot himself in the foot,
And lost the only whitetail
He ever really had a shot at.

-jenn long

Monday, November 12, 2012

Ode To Love

O, Sweet Baby,
Do you think
Even if stars didn't align,

Together we could cause poles to shift
Ourselves, in timeless time?

Loving each other
Only for that space called now?
Vaguely knowing the truth for all

-jenn long

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Stray Cat

I’m a stray cat, baby,
And you never should have fed me.
I ‘m a stray cat, baby,
Now I’ll never leave!
I’m a stray cat, baby,
And you never should have fed me!
Now I’ll always be around
Just a scratchin' out fleas.

You saw me lookin’ poor
Out back of the alley,
A homely little kitten
All scrawny and mean.
You tamed me with some scraps
And domesticated me,
Now, you poor darling,
I’ll never leave!

You fattened me up,
Till I’m fat and sassy.
You chubbed me up
Just as fine as you please,
But now I’m so fat
It would take me two trips
To haul ass anyhow,
So how can I leave?

I’m a stray cat, baby,
And you never should have fed me.
I ‘m a stray cat, baby,
Now I’ll never leave!
I’m a stray cat, baby,
And you never should have fed me!
Now I’ll always be around
Just a scratchin out fleas.

Woman Starved

I might be bad company tonight—
In a good way.
I might not know that you’re not here.
I might not hold back at all.
I might unleash the things I should have said—
The things I really meant,
The things that got misunderstood
And I just let it go.

I might go crazy on you tonight—
Raw power of tigress uncaged,
A no holds barred approach to life,
A frenzied feast of woman starved
And loosed at the town café.
I might rip my blouse tonight
And burn the rafters down.
I might break dishes
Like a fat Greek wedding
And open Pandora’s box again.

-jenn long

Another Day

Another day,
Another mass of energy
To invest, in almost any way
We choose, with choices brushing past
Us and the life blood of our time continuum!
And numbers of them are fading fast.
Let’s take the time to make today
A bundle of joyful synergy
As we sway.

-jenn long

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

How Sweet It Is

Drama, drama everywhere,
And not a drop to watch.
We feel we must live it in our hearts and souls.
Reality TV in real life—
It must be spoken,
Nothing held back.
Each one must speak his piece,
Until there is no peace.
Quiet no more!
Reality unleashed!

I don't prefer to live inside
The soap-operatic boundaries.
I seek the aromatic oils of harmony
Which were said to have dripped
Down Aaron’s beard at Hermon.
I long for the tones
That occurs when two
Can walk together as one
In the sweet cool of the day,
And for love's joyful return.

-jenn long

When I Die

When I die,
Don't funeralize me.
Swaddle this hull
In gossamer gauze.
Wrap me but lightly,
And stick me in slant-wise
In a place where flowers already grow.
For I don't know if I'll have
Enough left,
To even push up a daisy.

-jenn long

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Prime Minister

He has a knack for sniffing out
The loneliest woman in the crowd.
He hones in on her from afar
And slowly circles in.
She gets dizzy, trying to see
What angle he is taking,
Until he appears, out of nowhere, there,
And offers a sturdy hand.

It’s quite a ministry, really.
A religious service he performs,
Removing them of their heavy yokes,
Unburdening them from their bras.
But he makes them feel beautiful, too,
And that they are want-able again.
He smells really good, tho, and as he smiles,
There’s something about those eyes.

I know one day, he’ll single me out.
I’ll find myself drifting into that spot.
My turn will come to be
The only-est lonely in the room.
And when my number comes up to match his,
I only hope that he’ll still have the gift,
And that he’ll still smell good.

-jenn long

Monday, November 5, 2012

It Is Good

It is good,
My brothers,
My sisters.
It is.
It is good,
This earth
That teems with life.
And we,
We should
Love one another
And realize our common bond.

And whether we hail
From east or west,
Northern or southern
Let him who would have friends
Be friendly, and
and listen,
And think,
And speak from the heart.

-jenn long

Laws of Chaotic Attraction

Nature abhors an absence of heat.
Things have a way of going from order to harvest.
There is no cold, just a vacuum,
And seedtime into chaos,
As long as the earth exists.

Worth two in a bush
Are birds of a feather,
While a bird in the hand
Will flock together
While attractions are opposites.

So save your pennies
For a stitch in time.
A rainy day will save nine—
Ten, if counting un-hatched chickens.
But yes, opposites do attract.

-jenn long

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Co-destructive Dependence

So they skipped the honeymoon
And went straight for the jugular.
With guilt inspiring sarcasm,
Both felt compelled to rationalize infantile behavior.
As endless bitter communications
Continued to bring out the worst in one another,
He wondered what her ring size was,
And planned on setting the date.

-jenn long

Thursday, November 1, 2012


I’ve given up everything—but—that—for you.
Oh, no. Don’t ask me to give—that—up, too.
Might I just keep but one of my faults?
All else has failed me, all else is gone,
But one old trait carries me on.
Can a leopard change its happy spots?

But if I’m required to trade—that—for this,
I fear that the balance will throw so amiss,
That I won’t be at all what I was at the first.
So if you liked me then, why change me?
And if you like me now, a rearrange be
Unnecessary, friend, like it, for better or worse.

-jenn long

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

That is For Knowing the Difference

I've been accused of just “getting what I wanted,”
And then moving on down the line.
Funny thing is, I—I never knew what I wanted,
So I’m not sure if I ever have gotten it.
Kind of like the old man and old woman
Sitting out on the front porch swing.
The woman slaps the man right out of his sneakers
And tells him it’s for the 40 years of bad sex.
The man gets back up, and into the swing,
And after thinking it over a bit,
Slaps the old woman right out of her loafers,
And says, “That— is for knowing the difference.”

-jenn long

Prostrate Cancer

Most women eventually turn into their mothers.
I'm becoming my dad,
To the point of developing prostrate cancer,
And I think I know it's cause.
For I've fallen supine, too many occasions,
Worshiping idols and graven images—
Things like diplomas and retirement packages.
Yes I've prayed to a god who is dead,
And one entirely made of pulp,
I've followed the prophets so false.

But now I will say that my father's house,
Builded by leaving the crowds' conformity,
I now seek as a comfort and stay.
And I will lie slain in the spirit of the legacy
Of my sons' memories of me loving them more,
And of me receiving their love unconditionally,
In whatever ways that they are able to offer it.

-jenn long

Tuesday, October 30, 2012


It seems as if
I’m on a journeyed walkabout,
Only meant to enjoy the earth
And the beauty of its natural flow.
And sometimes
The ebb catches me breathless,
 Doubles me over in suffering,
Until I really don’t know
And all of the philosophies fail me,
All the trite sayings of friends,
And well-intentioned theologian wanna-bees
Go sailing right out the windows of my soul
With my tears,
And my purpose,
And I am left comfortless

-jenn long