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