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

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

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

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

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
Together.
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

Slow

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

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

Waterloo

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

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

 

Rebirth

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

Lives

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

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

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

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

Somewhere.

I visit the palace

Frequently,

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

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—

Again.

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

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

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

Singularity

“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

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

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

Fallen

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

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

Hair Gel Failure

Yes,

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.
No,
I'm not concerned about hair gel, anymore,
But their greeters are just so kind.

-jenn long

Out of Reach

Tantalizing,

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

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