Wednesday, December 31, 2014

So he dumped our insides out
Together on ripped wax paper,
And he wanted us to talk about them,
But all we could do was stare.
Some parts of us were frozen,
Others, pale and watery,
Only recognizable to me
Were the undigested peas and corn.

And it didn't seem much to think about,
Much less to give a voice to it,
And so the room stayed quiet,
Like our quiet desperate lives.


Monday, December 29, 2014

The puddle that was my love for you
Dried up,
And a flower grew in its place,
And parrots flew
And nested in its bush.
And the flower bloomed
And made seeds
For orioles and parakeets
All the way from Tyre to Kush
Until there were beautiful
Streams in the desert,
And all the prophecies came true.
And the colorful flowers, blooms, and seeds,
Finches, wrens, and parakeets
All sing and play and dance unto
The mystic music
Of love
That conquers all.

Hush baby hush
let the wind make the promise
hush baby hush
don't talk now but only listen
your dreams are small
but there is a quiet whisper
that speaks to us all
of our clandestine bigness

You are too young
To go off on a tangent
Stay within the center here
Until you see your calling
There are easy ways
And distraction
Stay until you see so clear
The way that you should go

It doesn't really matter
If the world can't see your progress
What they consider day is night to you
So stand and breathe and know
That already
Is upon you
And already you can stand
against the flow


Saturday, December 27, 2014

I stood on a high mountain.
I looked deep into the past,
But I could not discern a clear image,
For it was too distant.
So I looked the other way,
As far as I could into the future.
It was too far away, too,
And everything was fuzzy.

So I looked up.
The sun was right above my head.
It shone down on me in all its noonday strength.
I closed my eyes so I could see it better.
And as I did,
I felt the song of creation beam down
Upon the soft spot in my infant head.
It gave me great hope and light
To the very core of my soul.


Friday, December 26, 2014

I'm going away to live with the Amish.
I've fallen in love with their tips.
I'm going to learn the best ways to clean cast iron,
And how to keep rust off my tin snips,
How to make apple cider vinegar,
And peel onions minus the tears,
How to turn the fire up under the grease
Without any qualms or fears.

Cause you know ?
That second batch of taters has to be cooked a little better.
Folks ain't as hungry as they were before,
And full people can just be so critical.


Wednesday, December 24, 2014

I have nothin to say
But say itself
I let my muffins do the talkin

Oh yes honey
Muffins do speak
They tell it all
Doncha know

Binary code
Of scent
And taste
When under duress

Irradiation changes things
Message is clear
Merrrry Christmas Muffins
For everyone <3


Monday, December 22, 2014

There is no proof
Like an old proof.
The best are chiseled in stone
Or left in a seldom seen comment box
At the height of social media.
But no matter,
For even Time won't tell,
But only the Treasure one imparts
To the deceptive second hand
And the Sacred Geometrical TrueLove along the way.


Saturday, December 20, 2014

Philosophy is just a kid
Waiting to open his presents
Wanting what he wants
And wondering what actually lies
So hidden

Religion is the ritual
Wrapping and unwrapping
The disappointment
Or surprise
Based from expectations high or low

Revelation holds the key
Exquisite mystery unfolding
In every deeper understanding
Forthcoming out of Love

- jenn

Friday, December 19, 2014

I've waited thirty years
To send a message back to you,
So that I would not violate
Your cosmology.
You believe the speed of light
Is 186,282 miles per second
Or, we'll say "c,"
But that is only in a vacuum, my dear.

But if your mind could open to me,
You could hear me calling you now.
You would would see
Me holding unconventionally.
You would see my impatient,
Indecent behavior
As I wait,
And you would see "c" accurately.

- jenn

Thursday, December 18, 2014

The world is my oyster.
It's yours, too.
But I don't like oyster,
Or oyster stew,
So it's a hungry existence I find.

There's some leftover fruit,
But I don't know what part.
Someone's eaten all the cumquats,
And all that's left here is a piece
Of it's rind.

I come empty handed to you,
Like a child
With a a weedy flower or two,
Or something he's found in the road:
A button,
A penny,
Some plastic art.

But you, come,
Like a little child, too,
And let's enter the gates of heaven
And blow dandelions
And play hide and seek
With my near broken heart.


Wednesday, December 17, 2014

The truth came by to tell me why,
But I was busy vacuuming.
Red breasted robins came early to sing
And tell me the best spots to
Picnic in spring,
But I didn't listen,
Until the lilacs kissed me.

Dewy lips and libidinous tongue--
I shut my eyes and mouth as one
And lent a little more than an ear,
Open to the forbidden words
So undersaid,
Open to the petitioner
Who told me how he missed me,
Open to the moment,
And the delicious taste
Of the lilacs as they kissed me.

The ancient wound healed suddenly
And left no trace of pain or scar.
A gentle wind answered my angry question
And left me dazed and dizzy,
And hopelessly in love with you,
And never too tired or busy
To miss the chance to sing or dance
Or laugh,
Or let the lilacs kiss me.


Sunday, December 14, 2014

I'm lost amid a million suction cups.
I've floated free from the roots
And wander in the maze of bulbous swellings.
They move along a cold shore,
And I with them.

When I see the brilliant coral,
I stop and make a wish,
That I will come to understand my home
Here amongst the starfish.

Love washes over my ugly places,
Replaces them with beauty,
Fills them in like a magic coat
Of satin on a painting left undone.
It shades me in and colors me,
Gives me dimension and texture,
Finishes my scars and places
Left broken down.

And carefully, and tenderly,
Love wraps me up and hides me,
Carries me off to the one true place
Where I can be myself.
And there, in the midst of exquisite glory,
Time stops
And allows me
To see myself as Love sees
The finished me.


Friday, December 12, 2014

Peas and green beans, ham and a small yam
All baked together til they didn't give a damn
Whether they were eaten today or tomorrow
Or the next, in joy, or in sorrow.
They were snubbed without once being tasted,
And thrown into a garbage pail, and wasted
Four dollars and njnety-three cents or ruther---
The fiasco I refer to as supper!

If I renounce my dreams because I know
That by renouncing them they will come to pass,
Am I really letting anything go?
And will my dreams come true then, anyway?

And if I love a butterfly and set it free,
And watch it flutter off without an aim
To let it live somewhere on its last day,
Will it ever come back to me?

And if I dream of the butterfly's return,
And see it's fractal colors lined with black
Like the stained glass in an empty church,
Will I be glad that the butterfly is back?


Wednesday, December 10, 2014

This is what makes a Goddess good:
Scowling eyes,
Furrowed brows,
And obvious doubts.

Doubts don't diminish me anymore.
I've stood too many times in the river
And seen the carefree wink
Of the stars and the nudge
That steers THEM by.
And I know that nudge
In a personal way,
And the warm laughter
Of peace and pure joy.

And my life, hidden from the scowls of men,
Is right and true and powerful.
And I will win!
Again and again
And again!


Monday, December 8, 2014

Come and lay your head on mine.
Let us think together.
For two heads are better than one,
They always say.

And I will close my eyes and dream,
While you kiss me on the mouth,
And tell me we have thought enough
For one day.

And now I can see far into precession,
Twenty-six free falling thousand years,
At gravity, that starts at minus nine,
But ends at zero.

And now I can see that even the Sun
Tries to come back to one-pointed centeredness,
Tries to go step in the same stream twice,
For even the Milky Way
Calls for a Hero.


Friday, December 5, 2014

This furry little bag of bones
I call my cat,
Is soft and fluffy and wonderful
And all that,
And in the middle of the night
He jumps up on my bed
And walks up my legs
To my back, beneath my head,
And he sits,
And he purrs.

His purr is loud and effortlessly so,
And if you could see the sound
Then you would know
That he, like a beacon
Shines a welcome light
Of love and affirmation.
Into the night, he beams
Unmistakably, o'er the fog and squall,
"This is herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,


Sunday, November 30, 2014

So part of my costume in the show
Involves a towel wrapped around me and pinned,
Before a dumpy housecoat goes over.
And I have this urge at the finale
To scrape off all the makeup,
Untie that housecoat,
Unpin the clumpy towel,
Strip out of it, and let it fall
Like a shadow on the stage,
And then stand naked in front of the audience,
And let them see me for who I am.

And I can see why strippers and prostitutes
Will enter the kingdom of heaven
Long before anyone who fails to understand
The power of removing all the trappings,
And costumes,
And standing bare and naked,
Even if it's just before oneself.


Friday, November 28, 2014

The past is what was solid.
The future's dissolute,
But everything is backward in illusion.
We feel we're walking into time,
Although we're spinning out of it,
And need to look behind
To see ahead.
It's not the sum
We're looking for,
It's the difference,
As the three fates unbraid--
A cosmic unzip.

I caught a whiff of you
A second ago.
The sweet and spicy cologne
You wear for me.
I turned to see
But you weren't there.
My heart sank a little,
But I knew you couldn't be.

But I stopped and lingered in the air,
Allowed my feet a rest from grounded thoughts.
My mind began to spin
With arms stretched out,
And my mouth watered,
Just a little bit.

And I must say,
I'm missing you today.


Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Sometimes I try to be myself
But myself is just so ehhhhh
And nobody likes it when I'm myself
Maybe not even me
Because, that's when all the trouble begins
When I say what's really on my mind
Or I scratch that itch right there in public
Or giggle at the most inopportune times

And so I must roll my eyes
Wheel on my heel
And make a hasty exit
Stage left

Au reboot
(My autocorrect doesn't speak French)

We are close
And fitted together,
Designed to shift
And breathe
In case of earthquake
Or other tragedy.

But we are strong,
Magnetized by nature,
Pulled together
To build something
That will endure--
Without mortar.


Tuesday, November 25, 2014

I eased into death
With my eyes closed
And my jaws set,
Like I did once
In the passenger seat
Making a wide left
Onto a busy street,
Resigned that it was too late,
And too good,
To avoid fate.

And what I found when I stepped through,
Was that there was nothing to step into.
I swallowed hard
And breathed a different kind of air.

And the turn was made,
And the traffic flowed,
And the rush
Of anode passing
Wrote my name
In the night
Like a sparkler.

And beauty
Blushed into the night,
And failed,
And hushed
At the sight
Of Love
All bare and obvious,
And set on loving me
Back to Life.


Sunday, November 23, 2014

When Almighty sings his heart to you,
Stop and listen.
See the calculus unfold before your eyes
As exquisite patterns detail
Divine arrangement,
And pressure waves begin
To make it so.

Swoon under the influence of the power.
Fall in Love
Again and again.
Abandon yourself to the infinite
Unspeakable goodness.
Let the music move you.

Surrender to this cosmic fact:
You don't know anything
Except the Love
Between your heartbeats,
And the Love
In between mine.


Saturday, November 22, 2014

I want to stand on the street corner with a sign
And take a mental tally of the folks who pass me by.
How many of them are willing to look me in the eye?
And what kind of person is most willing
To see beyond my age?
My dress?
My lonely shyness?
My rage?
My peace?
My thoughtlessness?
My deepest thinking?

Beyond myself
To the greater part of me,
Which is all of this and more?
Beyond my sign?
Beyond the mattress store
That's been closing for a year now?


Friday, November 21, 2014

Sometimes I think I gotta grow up into myself
And sometimes I think the best thing I've ever done
Is pretending to be me

Sometimes I think the best preparation for the future
Is dreaming
Undoable dreams

I don't want to have to teach someone how to love me
I just want them to know
I feel like if I have to teach someone
Then we're not really equals

And I want someone
To be able to stand toe to toe with me
And surprise me
With wit
And recognize the irony
If the situation
And whisk me off my feet sometimes
And carry me off
On the strong shoulders of imagination

I want someone to know where to touch me
And to dare
To dare explore the frontiers
Of my body and soul
Where no one
Has ever gone before

So I paid a little extra
And insisted that she keep the change,
Because that Five and that One
Had been together a long time in my wallet,
And I'm not one to split up a partnership,
Even if it seemed unequally yoked.
Intangibles may be what pulls water to its own level,
Or maybe it's science after all,
But EHarmony had put that pair together,
And I didn't want any credit
For puttin it asunder.


He thinks people are really gonna come from miles around
Just to go to the Little Caesar's
Where he makes pizza
Because he sings while he slops the sauce,
"Blam da da blam da dam da dam dammmmm!"
And makes loud remarks about sodium and so forth.

But if they made a movie about this,
He would be the comic hero,
And they would get someone great,
Like Bill Murray, to play his part.
And we who mock and roll our eyes
Would be the small minded antagonists,
Played by nobodies
Or unpaid extras.

- jenn
I'm writing poems for myself tonight
Because there is no internet connection
And these are some of the best works
The world will never see
Because they are so raw, you know?
So honest and forthcoming
Who could bear them in the light of day?

The poems one pens in broad daylight
Are much like polite conversation
The Thought is present that keeps them narrow and straight
That what would old so and so think of that now?
So I better not let my mind stray

But here in the dark
I can let myself go
And thrust and moan
In wild abandon
For there is none to hear
My deep groans of anguish
Or ecstasy
For miles and miles

Oh! You ask? What of the neighbors?
They don't speak Poetry.

St. Peter
I don't want any of them to meet me at the gate
Cause if they do
I'm going to turn right around and go straight to hell
I don't want eternity with those sons of bitches
A lifetime has been way plenty enough for me
So please tell me again
How there is something better
And what it is exactly
That I have to do
To be free
From all of it


Honey, I'm eatin in bed tonight
Like mama cass, cuz
This world is starving me--
Starving me down!
My soil is worn down!
The good stuff eroded--
Washed up,
To some fertile river bed
Downstream somewhere!

And I'm up here
In thin air,
And thin dirt!
With my roots exposed!
And showin!

Showin my ass
To the world again
And nothin,
Naw nothin
In between!!!!

"For sale," the sign said.
Arrogant ones, in the name of progress,
Came and kicked us off the land
Which we had cultivated for 1000 years.
Then they turned around
And sold it as property and made a handy profit.
And thoughtless ones came with their trash and litter
And scarred the place that we held sacred.

Our wrappers grow on the food source naturally,
Like corn silk, corn shucks, pea pods, and feathers,
And everything that comes from the great spirit of life is good,
And we use it for food and to live.

But they turned the navel of the world
Into a ghetto Washateria,
Plastic wrappers and polyethylene blowing up and sticking in the fence
That they put up to keep us trashy Indians out.

Thoughtless arrogance.

I dreamed I was riding a horse at the fair,
And we went into a chute
Where there were boards
On either side.
I put my feet down
To waddle along still astraddle
Because I was going to 'help' my horse,
Whose name I did not know.
And the horse turned it's head back
And looked at me
As if to say, "Puh-leeeeeeze!"

And so I think
My horse
Don't need no help.
An I'm gonn ride him
Like he wants to be rid.


Wednesday, November 19, 2014

I'm not afraid today
To let Love come and find me,
To let it have it's perfect way with me.
And if in the course
Of human events
There be some imperfections,
Let them come, too,
And carry me away.

And when the wax
Melts off my eyes
And leaves me to see things clear,
May all the bindings drop
To reveal my heart,
Though polyamorous,
Is pure.
And may you
Be near.
Very near.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

When we lie together
Skin on skin.
Our cells don't seem to recognize
That there are alien markers,
For when we try to separate
There seems to be a tearing
At the places where we pull apart.

What we find
At a level deep
Beyond the hypodermis,
Much beyond the subcutaneous,
But down in our DNA,
Is that our cells
Don't see each other
As 'us' or 'not us' any longer,
But only 'welcome,'
And 'one,' and 'the same.'

I've adapted to the sun's radioactivity
By eating bananas and cinnamon pills.
Iodine tablets might've been better
But there were none at hand.
And I am the matriarch
Of neosolarphagists
Who couldn't bear the claustrophobic dank
Of the caves.

And someday the evolvations of us
Will war against the evolvations of them,
For our common beginnings
And trials and survivals
Will all have been forgotten.

I guess I'm kind of a Boonie person.
My soul thrives in the wasteland.
I know there are things to be scared of everywhere,
But I figure
If someone grabs me and pulls me up into the bushes,
And has their way with me and leaves me for dead,
At least I'll have some privacy.

No one would find me for months
And, by then, the coyotes would've eaten me,
And no one would have to hassle with what to do with my remains.
And that is a far better thing to do
Than to hassle people with the legislative aspects of funeralization.

Love broke me
Like a colt,
But in such a sweet and gentle way.
It only broke my brokenness,
And now I'm useful to the world.

And everyday,
Love's sweet words and touch
Brushes me out,
Mane and tail,
And brings out some better part of me,
Until I shine so bright,
That lights don't hurt my eyes now,

What'd you do to me?
Do it again?


Sunday, November 9, 2014

I know what I am by what I do,
And since I'm roaring down the highway,
Resting my long arms up on
Two fiery horns that serve as handles,
I figure must be a demon motorcycle.

I feel the surge of immortal power
Roar between my legs.
It scares me,
Because it's untapped
And untamable.

Then I remember that I'm dreaming.
I pull out hard
Onto the freeway,
Flames--painted ones,
Real and imagined
Scorch and burn as my wake.

Then I think that it's much better
To identify myself
By my dreams,
And not by what I really am,
Or what I really do.


Saturday, November 8, 2014

So he wanted to marry a guera,
A white girl,
So maybe his children
Would have a chance,
So they could grow up
Knowing engles,
And be accepted at school.
Maybe they would use her last name,
Cuz maybe she would be ashamed
To take the surname, "Cachoka Cachoka."
Hell, maybe he would take her last name.
They could call him  "Vinnie--"
Vinnie Adams or Vinnie Green
Or Vinnie White.
Hell, he didn't care.


Friday, November 7, 2014

I put fancid rats upon my face
And gouge a tue-quip bout my eanner ir
And thanger strings than that
Have been own to knowcur.

So take my heaty mand
And malk mith we
Into a losmic cand
And polve the suzzles
That mabsolve the aind
And wake the brind...

So, I'll never go to a chiropractor
Because I had a dream
That a chiropractor diagnosed me
With a fatal cancer, that, in fact,
Was my demise.

So you might mock me
And say I'd rather die
Than go to a chiropractor,
And think me stubborn,
Or superstitious.

But truth be told,
I just want to die with dignity
A kind of death that life deserves,
Without all the bells and whistles,
Such as hair all falling out,
Or needles and probes
Needling and probing.

Because the truth is
We're all going to die.
And our polite society,
With all it's traditions,
Religion, and cultures,
Soap operas game shows,
Football and politics,
Distract us from this ultimatum,
And divide us into small minded
Shallow waders
Who don't look deep
Out past the harbor
To see
That we are all brothers and sisters
Who have been orphaned, after all,
And we journey together
In the very same paddle boat.


Wednesday, November 5, 2014

"I hate you," he says and stares two holes in my eyes shaped just like his.
And I smirk and shake my head because I know
That I'm the only one he ever goes out of his way to sit by
At McDonald's
Or anywhere else we happen to go.

"I hate you soooo much," he says
As he plops on my lap in the early morning,
And I have to laugh and shake my head again,
And think to myself,
"He's lucky I speak 14."


I wish I were the kind of friend
Who'd come and scrub your dishes off,
Those stubborn places that you can't get clean.
But to tell the truth I don't even notice
Little things like that,
Or dust or clutter of any type at all.

I'm more the type to come and sit
And sip on tea
And nibble cake
And listen
And nod my head a lot
And never offer good advice at all.

He tells himself she's not to old for him .
Why! When he's thirty, she'll be 52!
And all of that is over the hill, anyhow.
So they can just sit, by then,
On the front porch steps and shell peas
And watch the world go by.

But right now he's got whiskers on his face,
And his heart burns to love her if he can.
If she could wait for him
Til after school,
He would do his best
To make her young again.


That night you snubbed me,
I saw you dressed in black
On the far side of the auditorium.
And I had enjoyed the show
All by myself.
I went out to my car
Into the night,
Starlight and other people's headlights
Lit the way,
And you called me,
But didn't dare to say hello,
Only played a song
On the reddio.
But I was already listening
In my car.

And you sounded drunk
And hoarse from all that rehearsing,
But you were sweet,
And so I listened a bit.
But you didn't ask me what I'd been up to,
And I'd had quite an afternoon.
I took a shower in the yard
In just my panties.
I found I didn't have a drop of any shampoo.
And a pickup load
Of tall dark strangers
Came along to see the oil wells,
And they had an entire bottle.

And their shampoo was orange and bright
And took all the grease right out of my hair.
Then they had driven on their way,
Leaving me here,
As everyone does,
But a few had turned to look back
To see the orange suds


Sunday, November 2, 2014

My memories of the things you say and do,
Like little foxes returning stolen goods,
Come to me with joy and great intrigue,
Surprise me and delight my heart and mind.
The ribbon I lost at the 1980 fair,
The locket that I thought was gone for good,
The earring that fell off out in the woods,
The bracelet that beguiled me and was charmed,
When you smile and shine your catlike eyes,
And ask to take my socks off of my feet,
And whisper secrets in my other ear,
Or ask me if I've had enough to eat,
These things more than satisfy my need,
And shine like diamonds worn by Pleiades .


Saturday, November 1, 2014

He held his breath
Until I moved away
It only took two years
And forty-seven days
And now he's back to normal
So they say



Thursday, October 30, 2014

"Stay sweet!" the yearbook signers said,
Over and over again.
"Stay sweet!"
As if they knew by some prophetic utterance
That the coming world would harden
Us into the critics, teachers, naysayers,
That we knew as "adults."

Stay sweet, my love, stay sweet,
For I have been deficient many years,
Behind the eight ball and the recommended daily allowance
Of sugar,
And I need you
To stay sweet.


Monday, October 27, 2014

So they live it up in their material world,
Ensconced in fantasy,
Where he is the king,
And she, his sugarbaby.
And all is well and right with the world

Until they have to go to Walmart.

And there the world sees their consumer patterns
Arrive piecemeal, conveyer belt style:
Shurefine Kreme Soda
And Wiggly Puffs,
All in excess,
Even the toilet paper,
A 54 pack
To wash all of it down.

The woman's eyes gleam
Like the blades of a brand new
Craftsman garbage disposal,
Her big ass defying the seams
Of her Egyptian cottons,
While the man stands clipped,
Eyes cast down
In the harsh fluorescent light
Of bargain store reality,

Wondering how he'll hack it all again
Come Monday morning.


Monday, October 20, 2014

Come 'ere
Sweet Potata
Let me butter you up
You don't need any cinnamon
Or any nutmeg
And you sho don't need any honey
Cause yore sweet enough

Come ta think of it
I'm not sure if you need any butter
But I just happen ta have some

Was I supposed to slow down?
He was all elbows and assholes
Running across 10th St,
With the look in his eye
Like a wave on a slop bucket,
And I was alone with Kenny Rogers
In my butter car.
And he never slowed,
And neither did I, honey!
Both trying to beat the odds
And beat time,
And this time both of us made it.

What kind of world have I wiggled into
Where sperm meets egg
In cosmic kiss
And French stands for fuck
And we all speak in parables
We all fall in

My own tears
Melted my mountains
Into molehills.
The salty miniature
Ocean bites
Brought my heart
To dunes.
And as it washed
All over me
How wrong I'd been
The painted sands
Clanked out
Their wistful tunes.

"Come and see
The sun set
In the desert.
Come watch
The stars fall
Out of the sky,
Like Raggedy Ann
With her arms
All akimbo,
Flinging herself
Off the night stand


Sunday, October 19, 2014

There is a part of us that is animal,
And that is the perfect part of us,
The part that seeks it's natural way
To be what it certainly is.
The fat, sleek part of us is natural,
That eats and breeds and yawns,
And stretches out across the plains
Without worry of beyond.

We see the animals, and they are perfect.
Their best is more than good enough.
They rest when they are tired,
And do all things as needed.
Theirs is the better part of valor,
And we would do well to understand
The animal within ourselves,
And some of its demands.


Friday, October 17, 2014

Three takes you to infinity
In thirds and repeating decimals.
Two thirds is the antichrist.
Leads to six
And nine.

And thirty three
Forms completion,
Or inverse,
Messiah complex,
And there is nothing of consequence
In between.


Thursday, October 16, 2014

I don't want to be counted amongst the abusers,
And I don't claim to know anything for that reason.
I don't know what you should do
Or how to do it,
I only know it is a season of Love.

My hope is that Love washes every memory,
And gently turns the shadows back and away,
And heals the places where you most are hurting,
And gives you more than enough
To Live today.

I saw a fat woman
Eating her lunch
With crumbs on her lips
And her gut in a bunch,
But by the grace of god
Go I .

I saw a man,
Clipped and shorn,
One hand tied behind his back,
And so forlorn
As he looked for something
He'd missed in the mornin'.
And there,
But by the grace of god
Go I.

I saw a child
With knits in his hair,
Wearing saggy underwear
That had been passed down
Through three older clowns
Who to teased him mercilessly.
And the look in his eye
Said he just wanted pie,
And there,
But by the grace of god
Go I,
My friend,

And where goest thou?


Wednesday, October 15, 2014

The pot will wash himself, eventually,
Or lie out back until he rusts.
Either way, he won't worry again
About that the kettle calls him.
And if he could, he'd lick himself
Like a big furry cat with whiskers.
But as it is, he'll just have to wait
For rain.


Tuesday, October 14, 2014

We dance in the sand at midnight
While the waves white cap
And swoon to some galactic melody.

And as you hold me,
And we turn,
I see the moon
Has just become a cosmic dandelion
And it's seeds
Begin to blow
Into our night.


Monday, October 13, 2014

If you have the right tomato,
Even a bologney samwich tastes great.
And if you have the right pair of eyes
Looking back at you across the table,
McDonald's is a wonderful place to eat.
They say no one else can make us happy.
But I'm not sure if that is true or not.
We humans may be more like bees in a colony.
We aren't born alone,
And who's to say we die that way either.
 I'm just happier when you're around,
And besides all that,
I need you.


Friday, October 10, 2014

Lovers love at all times
Even when they're far away
Or when their minds go off astray
Lovers love at all times

Lovers love at all times
Under the sprawling pecan boughs
Under the clustered lilac vows
Lovers love at all times

Lovers love at all times
In threadbare peace
Abundant war
Or when there's nothing anymore
Lovers love at all times


Thursday, October 9, 2014

I came here to wait for you
The sky was pink
The moon was blue
Everything sparkled new
While I waited here for you

I came here to wait for you.........

Look what love has done to me
Closed my eyes and brought me tea
Multiplied my entity
Now love stands and smirks at me

But I came here to wait for you.......

Sometimes when love gets in my eyes
I often fail to recognize
The bigger scene, the love that's close
The reaching ones that love me most

And I came here to wait for you.....

I'll stay here and wait some more
Not sure what I'm waiting for
I want the Love that wants me too
That makes me smile
And keeps me true
That sings my song
And cries with me

I want you......,,

Oh my love 
There's no one like you
For me

There's no one
Who's been folded
Together by time and experience 
And love
And lack of it

And knowledge
And physical strength
And prowess

And all of the spice 
And zest for life
And living

All of the sunshine
All of the darkness 
All the twinkling starry host

All of you
Making the most
Of me


Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Pebon come,
Tell me your stories tonight
So I can sleep.
Bore me with details
Of counted items
And reports of what the shamans all said at the conference.
Speak to me of
Their religious studies
And philosophical diatribes after that
If I'm still awake.

Or let me sneak away while you're talking,
Out into the cold night.
Let me stay awake and watch
The stars across the sky.
Let me peek into their business
And see all their romantic pursuits,
And know firsthand the effects true love can have
On gold and hydrogen.

I can sleep in the morning
When the sun hides their intrigue.
Or I can sleep later when I no longer care.


Sunday, October 5, 2014

Well I was born in the south land
To a native careless weed
And I grew up strong and tall
Sans water
And I don't neeeeed
To prosper

Then one day
The man come along
With a hoe
And chop me down
He say I'm infringing on the rights
Of his peanut crop

I say maybe he oughta find a way
Find some use for me
Cause I'm better
I'm stronger
And don't give in
To rust or drought
And disease don't get me

But he say
That I done went
And was born before my time
Without a penis
Was my second mistake


Saturday, October 4, 2014

I nod my head, "Yes!Yes!"
He shakes his, universal, "Uh uh."
But then, he's from a place where the rivers run north.
So I applaud him,
Give him wings
To see if he'll fly away.

I try to think
What the sky is like
At night, where he stretches out
And put his hands up
Beneath his head.

I try to measure him,
Inch by inch,
And not take a single one for granted,
One of them may be the key
To crack the code,
So that I can understand
His customs and his syntax.
I want to know if his "uh uh's"
All mean "no."


Thursday, October 2, 2014

One red eye,
The other green,
He blinks at me to say,
"Here I am.
I'm watching you,
So, careful how you play."

And if the weather's very hot,
Or if I chance to sweat,
I will have become
Those names he called me,
Though I don't know it yet.

Nor can I ever comprehend
The patterns I can't see,
Gutted by the ancient ones
And rutted here by me.

Or maybe the red eye stops me.
Maybe the green eye knows
When to spur me to a trot
While Red Eye tells me, "Whoa."

And maybe those eyes that watch me
Cause me to act upon
The rudiments of my existence
That are preordained.

Or maybe I'm just dazed,
Sitting in my car
At the drive-thru ATM.


There's "ate" in chocolate,
But eight is not enough
To fill the holes
In one's heart, or head.
Nor do they reciprocate
With equal give and take,
But mostly offer
Their calories and tips:
A minute on the taste buds,
A lifetime on the hips.

Our theology,
Or our lack thereof,
In the face of tragedy.
We are reduced
To trite stupidity
And say the darnedest things.

Do these words accurately reflect
The cosmology that we view?
Or are they just something
That comes out of our mouths as rote,
Just something
To keep the facade in motion?

I don't care if the world stops today.
I don't care if it goes.
For me, the veil has been ripped for good,
And I have nothing to say.
But as for me and my house,
We will stop,
And stare.

I've been skinny,
And I've been fat,
And I can tell you
Where it's at.
It's nowhere, Man.
But when people love you
For who you are,
Then you're swingin'
On a star.
Or would you rather be a fish?
(But come on People, now
Smile on your Brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another right now)

Oh my Sister,
Take this down,
All the way to Chinatown,
And pray
To really understand
The ways between
Yourself and man
And God.

(-with a little help from the youngbloods)

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Nothing eats a crab apple
Nothing round here
They fall to the ground hard
And lie there
Waiting to be touched

But nothing touches them but time
And some invisible thing
Some empathetic bacterium
That comes and helps them rot

I've lived a lifetime
Not being able to say what I really thought
And in a "free" country
Partly because
I didn't even know
What it was my mind
Wanted to think
Where it was
My spirit wanted to blow

All I really want
Is to be free
To do the things
Rolled up in me to do
To be the things
I've always wanted to be
And to know

That I am loved


Tuesday, September 30, 2014

"What do you want?"
I ask that girl
Who stands and stares
So blankly at me.
But she doesn't have any words,
Any sounds, or any emotions,
Hardly a sign of life
Except for her eyes.

They plead for me
To understand her.
They burn with light
That I can't feel,
But I remember
From somewhere.
It's still there.

And if I stare back long enough,
But not too long, you understand,
I recognize a piece that used to be.
And if I hold my mouth just right,
I can put it where it goes,
And come one step closer
To being the real me.


Pole cat billows across the green
His fur is all a spray
Of striking black and white pinions
That seem to defy gravity
And if he were a Jim Henson creation
We would smile and laugh
Instead of scattering wildly
Across the grass

It doesn't matter,
Your concrete,
Your asphalt,
Your railroad ties,
Your long steel rails,
Sad train whistle.

The wind still blows.
Flowers still bloom in their season.
Sky's still blue,
And I still love you.

It doesn't matter.
Summer sun cracks the terra-cotta.
Dandelions pit the old cracked sidewalk.
But this heart beats
In me
Brand new.

And it doesn't matter,
But I still love you.


Wednesday, September 24, 2014

All of my theories fail in the light of Love
All my philosophies pale at the sight of Love
All of my dogma
All of my creeds
Fly out the window
Fall to the knees
Of Love

Oh you can say what you will or you won't do
You can even say, "Well I never," if you want to
But you don't have a clue
What trouble you'd go to
Til love flows smooth
Through your heart
And your soul
Bows to Love


Tuesday, September 23, 2014

I woke up blind today
Because of foreign oils
That got into my eye
And how I wished
New wishes
Back in time

Shift for me
You mighty hands
Turn the stiles
To match the day
I don't want the things I need
I want the things I had

But come and take me
As I am
For I can't see you as you are
And I will know you
As you wish to be

We pity the fat,
With potted skin
And cauliflower ear,
Collie dog noses,
And teeth that are missing,
Faces reddened by beer.

But will those on bottom
Be on the top
When the world turns upside down?
And will the lessons that meekened them now
Level the playing field?

And those who are last,
Will they be first?
Will the wise grieve over
The living
Or the dead
Or the misshapen?
And where will the last laugh come from?


I see the world.
It doesn't offend my eyes.
It looks like a framed scene.
But when I step through,
The mud and fleas and smelly things
Assault my inner senses.
I don't want them touching
My arms or face.

And then there are things that don't look right,
But they are.
They smell good.
They feel good
And bring a full awareness
Of love and laughter and real life.


Thursday, September 18, 2014

I watch the Sun's path in disbelief.
It seems to whirl
In a great centrifugal jitterbug
With the Earth.

I find myself in the dark ages,
In abject denial that the earth could move,
Though it is what carries me
To a destiny beyond my control.

I didn't want to come to this part of the galaxy.
And I certainly don't want to get out of the car,
So I'll sulk
Alone here in the backseat.

Ah, The universal dance looks fun,
But most of it's just illusion.
Venus seems to be coming near,
Jupiter to retreat in the distance,
But it's just retrograde motion.

And nothing is really as it seems.
We didn't ask to be born,
Or did we?
There seems to be no cause of death.

But someone or something has mated out there in the cosmos
And we are the ones who must go and be born again?

And there is not much choice in that,
So I choose to be a wallflower.
But the universe won't even let me do that.
It picks up my arms and flails them,
Puts my feet on its feet
And hops around
To some cosmic music of the spheres
That I can't hear.

And so I appear
To be having a wonderful time.

Or do I?


I think about you all the time,
Wonder things about you.
How your spirit braids into your cells?
What chemicals fire off together?
What ionic bonds are formed
That make you the unique character that you are?

What are the watersheds in your history
That tip the odds for this or that?
What is it that really makes you tick?

And if I tock occasionally
Will I rub you the wrong way?


Monday, September 15, 2014

As slaves for the Annunaki,
Designed for energy--
We have the capacity to do work,
And the tasks they didn't want to do.

And our DNA complains,
Shames us that we haven't done enough,
That our worth depends upon
Ergs and calories burned.

And yet the complexity of guilt
Compounds from a culture beyond our own,
Demands a seventh day to rest
Because some influential someone did that long ago.

But the Homo of our sapiens,
Native to the grasses here,
Doesn't feel the need to own or strive,
But simply to graze and be and replicate
Some forgotten aboriginal hope.

You could have been nicer to me.
I could've been nicer to you.
They say good fences make good neighbors.
But, alas, we didn't have a fence.
So maybe we didn't ever have a chance.
Maybe we could plead ignorance,
Or just plain laziness,
That we didn't bother to put one up.

But now that I am going,
I see you smile a wistful smile,
And all the time, I'm knowing,
That it will be a while
Before I'm gone.

And neither of us care to count the cost.
We don't look,
For no love has been lost,
And we will take the things that we have learned
And hide them in our hearts,
For we have earned
Both the right to privacy,
And the desire for it.


Sunday, September 14, 2014

The crickets' last hurrah today!
They climb the sunny stalks and say,
"Hooray! Hooray!"
They squeal over the last roses of summer
By rubbing their hairy legs together.
They peal an eternal kind of victory shout!

They sing of an unending glory,
An ever after happy story,
A life well lived, and yet, to be recast,
The best of days saved up for last,
Without a care, a worry, or a doubt.


Larry appreciates a good lookin woman
He raises one eye brow
And winks
Nods his head in agreement
And obeisance
To Beauty

And he's never heard of Emily Dickinson
But he would die for Truth anyhow
Just to be laid up in a cool dark place
And Ivy bringin down the walls

Folks around here think Larry is crazy
'Cause he rattles a mile a minute
And most of it is strictly unintelligible

But I say Larry's crazy like a fox
He knows when to stop in the midst of fast and fury
And tip his hat to some choice lady
And he ain't got time for no ugly women
Who ain't got time for him


Wednesday, September 10, 2014


So, I says to myself,
I can't talk to you no more
Cuz, you don't listen."

And my self says,
I listen.
I do."

So I says to my self,
"Why ain't you hearin'?
Why ain't you pickin' up what I'm puttin down?"

"Cuz you puttin' me down,

I just want to be so beautiful for you
The kind of person you can see yourself in
The kind of Love that perfects your very soul
You make me smile
The kind of smile that boomerangs and keeps you sunny too
And so we turn
In laughter
And great darkness
Knowing the Sun is always there for us


Friday, September 5, 2014

A Room Of One's Own

A thousand grey dragonflies
Hover my feet
As the Sun teases Shadow's play,
And green moss grows
And billows where he touches
The tips and the edge of the lake.

And the banks are full
Of every good thing,
Colorful stones and berries that grow,
But this is her place,
And I must go
And find my own.

And will I hear
The wistful sounds
Of the freight train's whistle low?
The clank of links
That bob against
The gate of your gazebo?

Will I remember the dragonflies
That gently flutter now?
Will I wonder
If you'll think of me?


Wednesday, August 13, 2014

There Is A Difference

Yes, I know.
His shoes are on the wrong feet.
But he put them on there by himself,
And apparently he feels fine.
And someday
He will know the difference.

But today I choose to see
The 99% that's right,
And tomorrow he will remember
How I looked at him and smiled.
And someday he will choose a mate
Who sees the best in him,
For he will know the difference.

-jenn long


He was married to Life--
But he waited
Til the kids were grown.
Then he sought a separation
From the Life
That he had known.

The dark mistress
Called to him
With promise,
To drown his woes
In seas of black.
And so he struggled
To gain that passage,
And he will not
Be coming back.

And did one soul
Bid him Farewell?
Did he call to say
That his departure
Was at hand
And he was on his way?

Or does Labor wait to squeeze
Wednesday's child
Unto the earth,
As Time and Pain
Who wait for none,
And one must hasten
To his birth?

But Friend,
Be friendly to your brother.
Brothers all,
And sisters, we,
And row the same boat down the stream,
And unmerrily.

-jenn long

Friday, August 8, 2014

Breath of Fresh Air

Being with you is like coming up for air
From a world somewhere below
Where there is barely any oxygen.
And when we break the surface together,
The splashes of light and cool water
Reinvigorate us.
They show us that our lives are hidden,
Wrapped up neatly,
And, not so neatly,
In pieces deep within one another.
They wait to be discovered
Like the shimmering air pockets that
Wait for us to breathe them.

-jenn long

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Rat Feedin'

"These things you write
In the middle of the night
Be unfit for human consumption."

"Yes, they might at that."

"Then why do you pore
(While others snore)
And whore
For inalienable redemption?"

"To feed a rat.
So gnaw on that."

The Lord gathered up all my kingdom
In a fold of a red gingham skirt
And asked me if I'd leave it for Love,
And I said,"I'm a born flirt."

The Lord gathered up all my riches
In the eye of a needle bound south
Through a wealthy man's soft leather breeches,
Stitching them up, in and out.

And all of my fame was as gold dust
That the Lord blew from his right hand.
It fell from the night sky in starlight,
And settled upon the cool sand.

And all of this weighed in the balance
Against what true love I knew,
And scattered as nightmares at daylight,
When I said I'd leave all of that, too,

For one taste
Of True Love.



That's quite a chemistry
We have going.
Ultimate supply meets ultimate demand.
But the sum of the parts is not a bull market,
But just a bit more of a bare.

And it gets hotter than Krakatoa
When the salts of your sweat fall
Softly, imperceptibly, on the mounds
Just under my skin.

But the heart detects the change,
The ph heading straight to basic.
The lava's out,
And so, Mt. Love,
Is the brain.

-jenn long

Monday, August 4, 2014

I see myself everywhere.
There I am waiting impatiently,
A deep seat,
And a far away look in my eye.
That's the me I would have been
If we hadn't moved from that big town
Where everybody gets braces
And nobody ever gets fat.
And I'd've never worn those wranglers,
Designer jeans were all the rage,
And I'd've been the snootiest little beeeee-atch
In Dallas AND Tarrant Counties.
Then again, maybe not.
Then again,

-jenn long
When Never Satisfied is full,
And Always Wants A Little More
Lies purring like a cat,
Then the deep and rain-soaked clouds
Can come and linger o'er the canyon walls.
Then the rainbows, too, will set,
As Venus soars, and silhouettes bed down,
As Night falls in the canyon.

-jenn long

The Beggar in Me

I will not eat.
I will not drink.
I will not pee or poop.
I'd never demand
The slightest thing.
Take me home with you?

I don't expect any attention.
You may never notice
That I'm here,
Quiet as a breathing shadow.
So, take me home with you ?

I could sleep
Under a bridge,
Under the awning of City Hall,
On the ledge
Of The Capitol Steppes,
But, take me home with you?

-jenn long

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Coming and Going

I see myself everywhere.
There I am coming out of the laundromat,
Though I'm much heavier
And wearing my glasses.
My mousy-brown looks dark and straight
In contrast to the bleached, permed ends.

I walk to my trailer, beaten and tired,
And meet myself going.
Tired eyes meet tired eyes,
And for a second she recognizes, too.
No, it couldn't be.

-jenn long

Friday, August 1, 2014

They Are

We want our children to be like us,
But they aren't.
They are alive in other ways
That we could never invent.
They crawl.
They toddle.
They run.
And eventually find their own ways of walking,
And then we see
The things about ourselves that we don't like.
And then we pray
That our children won't be anything like us,
But they are.

-jenn long

I Shot The Sherriff

We beat the sun to Colorado.
But it met us at high noon
On our way back.
Its holsters slung low
Under its fat belly,
And that short cigar waggin'
As he chides us
With his good ole boy grin,
"Ignorance ain't no excuse
For the sun."

-jenn long

Wilderness Home

And so we went ahead
And put down roots
In a place our Grandma always hated.

"Waggis, Jabone," she would say
"Stop it, Honey."
As we teased and sparred along the trail.

But, "No waggis! No waggis!"
"Don't stop here in this devils place,"
She used to say
When we crossed this barren stretch of land.

"But Grandmother," the tired ones cry,
"They have brought the waterline!
And see the tall electric pole trees
They planted here to bring us power?"

But the prairie wind still whispers,
"Don't stop, Honey. Don't stop here.
Get your water from the sky!
Get your power from within!"
So I pack my tent up lightly
And move along the trail.

-jenn long

Thursday, July 24, 2014


I prayed today.
Although I'm not sure
What it is that I believe in,
Except maybe Life,
And Love,
And White Lies,
And Lipstick.

But deep within myself
I heard a ring
Of golden chimes,
And their specific knell
Drove me to a state of peace,
That God resides
In earth, and heaven, and hell,
And here,
Where bells ring
Deep inside myself.

-jenn long

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

I'm Not Afraid

I remember a note
That Sissy Banner
Was said to have passed
To Johnny Chebb.
"I'm not afraid
To f-u-c-k with you,"
It supposedly said.
We were in seventh grade.

This incident
Has stuck with me
For 34 years.
I wonder at the power
And the knowledge
A 13 year old girl could possess,
When I was still terrified
At 27.

-jenn long

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Mach's Principle

Sensitive souls are affected
By events from light years away.
Mass and acceleration expand
And Force feels magnified.
My head sees possibilities
That suggest your love to me.
As above, so below.
Push the envelope
And the chair back in under the table,
And I'll know about it.

Put your feet up on the ottoman
And breathe a heavy sigh.
Tilt your head back
And close your weary eyes.
Catch a vision of your power.
Let it roll within your mind.
Capture the heart beat in your own breast,
And I'll know about it.

A stranger came and sat down at my table.
I never took time to look him in the eye.
Too busy moving clutter, making gravy,
I didn't know that life had passed me by.

A stranger came and sat down at my  table.
I cleared the table off and looked at him.
We sat and talked and laughed at life for hours,
Until my lights and eyesight both grew dim.

And then we stood and walked outside together.
He held my hand and kissed my lips goodnight.
But he never left me for the morning.
His love has cleared the air from wrong or right.

And I will sleep beside him in the cedars.
The pine cones fall upon the swollen knolls.
The hoar frost comes to cover all in whiteness.
The rest is here to purify our souls.

-jenn long

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Can You Stand It?

Oh I've got such a poem
Brewing and brooding
Inside of me.
But who will be able to stand up under its weight?

It's great message
Of Love and Life?
The reverberations alone will shiver
And splinter the weak of heart
Or those prone to fear.

But come and let me
Unleash myself.
Let me give you a full throttle lovin'.
Allow the flood to swallow you,
And then,
If you can still breathe,

Quit on your own,
Then plunge into
A Love that is
More delicious than death.
Let The Poem awake us
To a Life
That is desperate to live.


Friday, July 11, 2014

I hope I do

I hope I do get skin cancer
Just so you can say I told you so
I hope my colon swells and bursts
From this wrongful diet you hate
I pray to come down with lung cancer
So you can wonder if I secretly smoked
Or maybe I'll just die of aids

And when I'm gone
All you smug sons a bitches
That have never done anything wrong in your lives
Can smirk
As you go
Like some college freshmen
Of your immortality

Thursday, July 10, 2014

All The Voices

It takes all the voices
To make the symphony,
And we don't know
What notes before them
Make them sing or shout or rest.
But the bigger picture holds
The squawks and squeaks
Of life's array,
And we can choose
What we like best.
But the bigger picture holds
The keys to the entirety,
And some of those in aversion nest,
And they are just as powerful
As those we find so sweet
And good in the bigger picture.

-jenn long


I've had this dream before like de javu
I catch a fleeting glimpse of you
And feel connected
We're so connected
And even tho the day was hot
We found a place where it was not
To get connected
So connected
Cause you know right from the start
You had a place right here in my heart

When I look down the road a few
I can see me and I can see you
So connected
There'll be those long hard days
It's all good and gonna be ok
Let's stay connected
We'll be up or we 'll be blue
But I'm never gonna give up on you
We're So connected

Hey babe whaddaya say
Keep on keepin on
Let's stay

Monday, July 7, 2014

Big Men

I saw a big man today
He lifted his grown son
Out of his motorized wheelchair
And set him in the back seat of his extended cab pickup

They'd been out to breakfast
With two of their friends
I saw the young man's face
Drawn and strained
By a birth defect
A deadly one
Known as muscular dystrophy

Well they could have stayed home
It would have been easier
But I'm glad they took the time
And trouble
To come to town so we could see them
They were both
Big enough men to let us

*My Son had a lot of deep questions
And we both cried when he got to the one
That asked if there was a cure

-jenn long

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Herd of Turtles

Sometimes I feel like a turtle
Trying to cross the road.
There are lots of hazards,
And I'm moving slow.

Sometimes I wish
Somebody from the turtle club
Would come along and swoop me up,
And get me safely to the other side.

But the way I'm moving,
And the way I look,
They probably couldn't tell
Which way I'm going.

They might pick me up
And put me right back where I started,
And that would not be good.

Then I'd probably pee on 'em,
And they'd drop me on the hard concrete,
Call me "Unthankful,"
And be on their merry way.

But maybe if I could get myself lined out
I wouldn't have to worry about any of that,
And it would be safe to wish again.

-jenn long


Love liberates
It opens doors
Throws open the sash
And says go get it
Love stands
And basks
It dances while it sings
A steady drumbeat
Touches the heart
Pulses code into the skin
It says
Or come, and get it right here

-jenn long 

Wednesday, July 2, 2014


Swimming is just not as fun anymore
When someone you know has drowned.
And this really sums up the problem we have with life.
For something somewhere has caused the death
Of all of those who have gone before,
And it steals the joy of doing about anything.

And then people say the stupidest things
To "help you" " get over" "your loss."
Most are well meaning religious folk
Who tell you to "just remember the good times,"
Or "they're in a better place."

But it's days like these I scratch my head
And wonder what's the use?
And try to pull up another tomorrow
Out of the onion patch.
It's a good thing I like onions, you know?

And.... I hope you do toooooo.....
<3 <3 <3


I woke with a beard
Braided just so that
The oil would gather
And run
In the exact patterns
As the dews of Mt. Hermon
That rivulet down

And as I extend
My olive branch
To you
I know the shadows and types
Have already bucked
Their courses
And challenged the fate of the sun

But what I don't know is
Which exact piece
Will ultimately interlock
And cause the great streams
To flow in the desert again

-jenn long

Saturday, June 28, 2014

One if by Land, Two if by Sea

I bloom like mimosa
For the moon,
And shed my fragrance
In the night of day,
And thirst for the dew
That comes with you
In the cool of morning's
Waking face.

And while I wait,
I whisper
Every secret to the blue,
Every hidden thought of you,
Every love riddled
Candled cue
To light the night,
And bring you here
To me.

-jenn long

Friday, June 27, 2014

Lovers Love

Lovers love at all times.
But we must remove
The culture that's been placed
Upon our brains.

It's unnatural---
The way the world
Would cookie cutter
Us to death
If we'd allow it to.

But the war between the members
States that slavery is wrong,
And cooperation often holds the key
That unlocks the temple prison.

So raise your head, you mighty gates!
Let the people loose again!
To roam free!
And wild!
And eat the herbs of the field

-jenn long

It's Friday, I'm In Love

I'm lying here turned on for you.
Golden love streams beam toward you.
They radiate out all around
The way that petals grow,
Or some cosmic conch made of the stars.

And galaxies can not contain
The love that wants to swallow you,
The pull that makes me orbit you,
The kisses that originate
From a soul lost here in the dark.

-jenn long

A Regular Day

There's no one here at Stonehenge today.
It's not an equinox or a solstice.
But as I lay here, my back against the green grass,
I close my eyes.
I hear the sheep munching.
I open my eyes.
I see the white clouds go bye
Against the sky blue and yellow sun,
And I realize the specialness of this moment,
And the delicate new alignment.
And no one has to teach me
The things that I know that I know that I know,
And life is good.

-jenn long

Smellin' Like A Rose

When my son went to bed,
He smelled like a puppy.
He'd played pirate and chased cottontails
After he'd had his bath.

But sometime in the night,
Quietly, his cells divided.
Tiny bursting neurotransmitters
Swept him clean again.

He's cuddled up with me right now,
As close as he can get to my soul,
And I'd swear he smells like Murphy oil
And the barber's lemon balm.

And in the paleness of the morning,
His face is pure and innocent,
Unreminded of the sins
Of any yesterday.
And I marvel at the darling
And the wonder of his DNA.
Living incarnate
With his own brand of redemption
Is his specialty.

-jenn long

When You Love Me

When you love me
The world's all right where it's supposed to be
When you love me
It's an eternal kind of day
Some eternal kind of spring
Some never ending fifth of May
When you love me

When you hold me
Even though your arms are faraway
I can feel your love throughout the ages
And only righteousness can have a say
Nothing else gets through to me
The way you do when you get through
And you love me

-jenn long

Worth It

I rolled my tears up
On big diva curlers,
And it may take years
For them to dry,
But I don't have
Anywhere to go today.

And so for now, I'll wear them proudly
To the grocery store and beyond,
Like sackcloth and ashes,
To show the world that I do have somewhere
More important to be,
Somewhere worth shaving my legs for,
And taking the rollers down.

-jenn long

Why I Like Older Men

At granny's house, gramp had himself a room,
And it was safe in there
To take your pop,
And put your feet up on the table.
He had a big picture in there
Of Will Rogers hanging on the wall.
He had his own bathroom
And his own door that went outside
To the back yard,
Which was also his domain.

He would set up the croquet,
And we would choose from the colored mallets,
And whack the balls of those same colors
Through the wickets and into the woods.

Gramps eyes always shined with love.
He always had Time to spend with you.
He was never in a hurry to get away.
You were the most important thing.
And over a NeHi grape soda,
And a bear hug,
He'd let you know it.

-jenn long

Friday, May 16, 2014

The Call

I didn’t know I had to eat,
And so I nearly starved to death.
I wondered at the emptiness inside.
It seemed to me from rib to rib
Was canyonesque, and I couldn’t fathom
Why my head was light
And foot so grave.
And so the hollow place within
Called out to caloric nutrients
To come and be tasted,
To let me see their goods.
But the bigger part of me,
The unseen spaces between the bits,
Calls out to you,
To come,
And let me be consumed.

.-jenn long

Monday, May 12, 2014

Melting Potted-ness

Sometimes I feel the melting-potted-ness
Has come to singularity in me,
That all my DNA seeks fratricide against itself.
My Ipswitch tribal priestess core
Judges harsh against my Scotch,
And the Dutch can't tolerate the Jewish Portuguese.
And then there is the Cherokee,
The Irish and the English.
Cover all that with Texan
And see how well you fare.

I find no roots to cling to.
No tradition, nor heritage
Can hold me in awe of its stately ways
Or lies that I can't bare.

And so I find that only love
Fills my inhibitions.
And so I pledge myself to it,
And that my only swear.

And if someday we understand
The further back beginnings,
And see for ourselves—
There is no birthright anymore.
The earth and the asteroid belt
Inherited the gold, and the meek,
And that's all gone,
And there is nothing else there.

Then maybe we won't judge ourselves,
Or our hapless brothers,
And maybe we can learn to exist,
And love each other here.

-jenn long

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Prime Cut

I hope you know
That there's more than more enough,
That you don't have to settle for anything less.
You don't have to scrape by
On a leftover or two
That the universe put back in the fridge for you.
You don't have to wait for hand me downs
Or sloppy seconds in cut rate liquor gowns.
You deserve the prime of the pendulums cache.
So leave that half eaten snow cone in the trash,
And if you want something from this life,
Order it up for yourself
And pay the price.
And don't be mad if someone doesn't leave enough over
For you to scrounge,
And don't be a stingy lover.

But live big and love large, my friend,
For who'll be there to count it in the end?
And in 100 years who'll be around
To brag on all the half-price deals you found?

-jenn long

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Skipping Stones Gather No Mas

Skipping rocks may be the world's second oldest non-profession.
And it is good for all mankind to see
At an early age that natural laws can be broken,
Defied by other natural laws
When the next level of threshold can be reached,
Or that when some other power greater than
The usual comes along and into play,
And favor is shown,
Then heavy stones
Can float and skip and tumble
On their way.

And when the laws of aero dynamics
Usurp the weak force that seems so strong and holds us down,
Then our spirits rise with lift and thrust,
And feet and hearts take flight from mother ground,
And we skip town.

-jenn long

Monday, May 5, 2014

Uppity Trash

Two finely woven paper textiles
Tumble delicately across the grass.
They've both come completely undone
And float
Like two sea anemone along the floor of the deep.
Some unseen force it is that bonds them,
Keeps them tight in a dance.
The naked eye can't detect it,
But only a naked heart
Can see the mechanics,
The perfect crystalline forms
That click together like gear wheels
And move them to the silent song
Of the wind.

And some would call it litter.
Some would roll their eyes at the lovely way
These two escaped,
And now like the gossamer gowns
They imitate,
They float on a higher plane,
As a higher form of linenry
Than they are thought to be.

Is it uppity to be in love?
Very well then,
Let it be.
But if love should be a portal
To a higher plane,
Then let me be
So vain as
To trash myself upon the profane shores
Of unseen air
And unheard melody,
To dance my dance with you
For all to see.

-jenn long

Outta Touch

We're outta touch.
There are no words to justify the silence.
It's not the silent treatment; we just have no words to say.
There's no tellin’ even the treatment of the treatment,
And he who speaks last lives to tell
His side anyway.

There ain't no “Smile for a while,”
No “Let's be happy,”
No “Mama dont ‘low,”
No “Slap yo pappy,”
All we got is “Silence of the lambs.”
Ain't no little drummer boy drumming,
No moon river,
No Christmas coming,
Just April fools,
And nobody gives a damn.

When we write the bitter funnies,
The comic strip of Earl and Hunnies,
Dagwood and Blondie and Lucy gets her way.
Say, how bout we rewrite the ending?
So we can laugh and keep from spending
Our nights in tears and every living day
In hell?

-jenn long

My Honeycup

My honeycup is full and sweet
And rich as walnut bark.
He sheds his gloom,
And golden bloom
Buds leaf and shimmers forth.
The cinnamon aloes warm me.
The velvet petals heal.
The sweet fronds whisper,”I love you,”
Till I can bloom for myself.

And in the forest chatter
And clutter of the leaves,
Undergrowth is heating up
The litter underneath
And changing it to something else
That's neither here nor there,
And yet exists as matter,
Or either energy.

So come exist with me, My Love,
As either, neither, both,
Until such times as churnings change us all,
And we take whatever forms
The yearnings prove to be,
And life makes of us
Whatever it shall make.

-jenn long

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Spirit of Lack

I watched him take what he could get,
And wondered why that was.
But somehow I understood the deep set need,
The ravenous spirit of Never Enough
Had always lived in me,
Or at least I had known that spirit
From as far back as I could go.
And tho I would never call it a friend,
It's something I sure do know—
That and the Spirit of Lack.

But when you can never feel wanted enough,
Is that someone else's fault?
When Nothin Is Good Enough slumbers
And morphs into Everything Is,
You may squirm,
Trying to find yourself
Somewhere in between.

-jenn long

The Battles That Love Has Won

The words he speaks are soft lights and music
Across a southern sky,
That cluster in mysterious constellations
Along a river of night.
And sometimes you see Orion,
Sometimes a little bear,
But always a sweet invincibility,
Always a hero in there.

The candles flicker in story,
As the faces of men round a fire,
To hear an old sailor’s legends
Of the epic warrior's tale.
For he's an unlikely winner,
An underdog in the fight,
That everyone hopes against hope
To cheer on,
To see him beat off the night.

And he has already done it.
And that's why his words shine clear.
That's why he can say nothing at all
And light up the Southern Hemisphere.
But one soft word for me,
And a chuckle?
Light this sweetheart's world!
Shine on me in my dark hour!
Move my heavy heart to the dance floor!

And dance with me for one hour
Til the battle cry is sung,
Then return to your calling
Til all your labors are done.
But you won't be an unsung hero,
For my darling, my heart will sing
Of the lovable side
Of the hero
And the battles that love has won.

-jenn long

Sunday, April 27, 2014

I Dreamed I Lived

I dreamed I lived,
And so I did the things that one must do—
I ate and slept and worked and went to school.
And when I woke,
I swam
Through deep cold water.
The clarity of it woke me even more.

And as the beauty teemed there all about me,
I found myself in the midst of poetry,
Swarmed by swallows and their swooping shadows,
Caught up in their mouths with the clay from a muddy sea,
Taken up high to the underside of a via dock,
Fashioned into a part of one of their homes,
And now, adopted into their lives,
I feel I truly belong.

So now I live.

-jenn long

Saturday, April 26, 2014


why dont you let me move in
just under the dermis of your skin
and then we won't even need to write or call
we won't need anything at all
just a whisper
of a thought
to realize 
the union and the merge
and all the ecstasy complete
what an intriguing blissful feat
of being
truly one


Thursday, April 10, 2014

Alma Mater

Oh Mother Earth,
Be kind to Moon,
Lest he age and tire of you,
For his eyes are set on Venus
And her greener orbit there.

And if he should wander
And pull her tides,
He could create an atmosphere
And terraform her barren landscape wild.

And what then of us,
Dear Mother,
Children of the clay and surf,
Left as orphans
In an age of ice?

And Mother turned
And walked away,
Muttering under her howling winds,
“She can have him for all I care.”

-jenn long

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

River Roll

I see the tan lines of the river—
Thin strips of cleavage to the bay
That has its tank top off its shoulder,
Smooth worn stumps expose themselves,
Drying in the sunny day.

The high water mark is falling, falling,
Dizzy and drunk on living love.
Death and parting both surrender
To the nymphy vows and shrug
And wink,
And seal it with a juicy kiss,
And dance in waves of cuddled bliss.

-jenn long

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Mound Builders and Mastadon Walkers

I live amongst the mound builders.
They labor to carry the stone.
They pile, and they pile, and they pile them,
One on top of the other.
I walk the trails of their progress,
But their same trials don't burden me.

And then I reach the mount
Of the ancient ones.
Covered by grass,
It's chiseled edges were
Rounded by time and rain and the henbit,
Til no one recognizes the work—
Not even the mound builder today.

But on this day,
I walked barefoot in the creek
By the tracks of the mastodon,
And maybe someday,
The post-post-modern creek walkers will see
My footprint fossilized right along with his.

-jenn long

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Last Prayer Meetin' at Her House

She asked me if I’d sold my house,
And I replied, “It was goin’ fine.”
And then she pressed me for more detail,
And so I told her a bit.
But right in the middle
Of my sentence
She jumped with both feet
In the men's discussion
Down at the end of her bar.
And after she’d straightened their asses out,
She turned back to mine
And asked again,
And so I began to tell her a little more,
When poof she disappeared again,
Transported herself right into the men’s bidness.
And I just got my coat
And headed out the door,
And ya know,
I think that was the last time
I went to a prayer meeting at her house.

-jenn long

Monday, March 31, 2014

Was It That The Earth Was Large

Was it that the earth was large
And my feet were small
That I could not reach the place
Of topicality?
Or was it that I could not sense
The direction of the call
And couldn’t bridge so tropical a fence?
Or was it that I was too large
And the universe in me
Too limited
By its mortal laws and physics
To be
Set free?

-jenn long

Back To Formula

Something about the way that he loved her,
Took her all the way back to formula,
Took her back beyond
To some motionless shore.
And something about him, reassured her
That Life was there
To cradle and rock her,
And nourish her, even
Long before she was born.
And Life would be there,
Even and especially,
At that place
Where time and space divided,
And his Love
Would wait there
For her to come again.

-jenn long

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Scot Free

He always had that innocent look
Like he might think of it
But never do
But me, I get accused of things
That I could never dream up

He would slide
Like a perfect fried egg
Right off the coating
Of a non-stick pan
From one of those cheesy

But ya know
They never slide off that way
For me

-jenn long

Thursday, March 27, 2014

The Game of Life

He took my turn
And played the game of Life for me,
And tried his best to make me lose again.
But I released the board
And let him take all my turns.
I watched from a distance—
My life, as he knew it,
And that must not have been as much fun—for him,
For pretty soon he started a brand new game,
And I did too.

-jenn long

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Big Break

You might not even know what you want
Til the door opens
And you can see.
So just keep doin’ your pushups there,
And be ready,
And when you get a peek
At daylight,
Pray that you'll have the gumption
To be everything
You're cracked up to be.

-jenn long