Sunday, May 31, 2015

A thousand years ago
A culture flourished here
His body washed up now
From all the rain
Buried in a mound
At the age of 40 years
A man who lived his life
Here on these plains.

They called it the new world
But it is not so new
There were people here from long ago
They called it the virgin land
And offered it to you
But bodies buried here will let you know

Pyramids and ancient carvings
Called by other names
People made to seem like savages
So that those who came out west
Would feel no guilt or shame
For taking turf and leaving damages

But there were people living here
One thousand years ago
Eight thousand years ago
And before 'time'
And just whose land you're standing on
You may never know
Until you climb the mounds
And drop your pride


I've read enough to know that dialogue is dangerous with you.
Your conversations are monologues in disguise.
And your feet are planted firmly in irrationality,
Though you seem to be the poster child for logic.

But when the day with you is done
And feelings weighed,
Your side of the scale will fly
With nothing on it,
While mine will drag with heavy bags of
Something I can't put my finger on.

And so tonight my soliloquy
Is short,
To put up with your shit
Or not.
And tonight, I think , "Not,"
Therefore, I am.

- jenn
If my heart is dry,
It's because it comes from an arid climate,
And if it waterlogs in rain and love,
It's because it learned to get by on barely enough,
And if I can't accept sweet invitations,
It's because salt flats are all I've ever known.

But if you can stand in the rain and watch,
You'll see that I'm the son
That told the father, "no,"
But then went and did what he'd asked me to do,
And in-line with this form of obedience,
I'm listening,
And I will be there
In the selfsame hour
You wish for me.


Saturday, May 30, 2015

I was mad at you until
I saw you riding your bike upside down
Your knees pumping up almost to your ears
And elbows almost akimbo
Then I started to feel sorry for you
For I saw you were trying to get somewhere

They say one never forgets how to ride a bike
And maybe one can't forget
Even how to ride one wrong
It makes me question the depth of free will
But I think you ought to know better

But suddenly my fear of you
Has melted into something else
And I will discern in my own good time
What this emotion is
But for now its comical
And the relief liberates me
And I've needed a dose of this best medicine
For a very long time


Thursday, May 28, 2015

I will sing tonight a song of the hills
A prayer from my deepest hearts cry
I will sing my love of the winding Trail
The Cherokees lullaby

Chorus: Hush my baby hush little baby
Please don't cry tonight
Tomorrow we will cry when the sun comes up
So our tears can shine in the light

The stars don't care they are too far away
The ancestors too far gone
Expose your shame to the light of day
Our only hope is the Sun

To cry in the night is a shameful thing
Like a dream one fears to tell
But to cry in the day is brave and right
And preserves generations from Hell

Damn! the nights go slow
When you're not here and I'm not there,
And the world keeps turning morning somewhere else.
And time flies when one is having fun,
But when one is lonesome
And another is, too,
And that damn speed of light has to be the constant,
And space, we haven't figured yet,
As to how to bend or warp or wormhole it the way we want it to be,
And so, my TrueLove,
Something has to give.
And so, it's you,
And so, it 's me,
And, alas,
Time has a special relativity
That only physics can describe
Without a lump in it's throat.

-jenn long

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

You put too much pressure on the corn.
It's gonna pop.
But it's not popcorn,
So it's just gonna mush from it's kernel.
But it's not cream corn,
And there is no butter,
So, it's just gonna be a mess.

Come just this once and hide me neath your feathered wings.
Just once let me feel the gentle eiderdown,
For all I've ever heard is what an ugly  baby I was,
And in a tone that says I should have been left at birth on a rock
For other birds of prey to come
And rip my soft underbelly
And eat away at me until I was never born.

And maybe that would have been preferable
To you feeding slowly on my liver,
Keeping me half starved, half dead,
Shamed, lying there with Prometheus
For bringing fire, when we should have been half gods instead.


Please don't fuck me to the music on the radio.
It's much too trite.
Fuck me in the quiet
Of the pitch black dark
And the silent white breaking
Of the dawn.
Let me feel the ultra circadian rhythms of you,
And your desire to breed with me.
Show me your song, a new song,
A true song, beating in the wings
Of the man I love,
Humming between the pulses and the throbs,
And rocking me into my blessed state,
Where all I can barely hear is us--
You, in your sweet glory groaning,
And me, mother of all your descendants,


Monday, May 25, 2015

I'm standing guard at buckingham palace,
Watching the gate while you sleep,
And only I would allow myself the privilege
Of waking you this fairy tale morning,
Only I can keep the nightmares in their stalls
And far away from your precious head,
And only I can allow the dreams
That make you smile and stretch like a cat in your sleep,
And only I will come for you in the morning of your sweet content,
And wake you in time for your important appointment, Sir.

Come with me for three days
Away into the great belly of the whale.
Trust me, now, it's not as bad
As one might try to imagine.
The bronze ribs gleam with hieroglyphs,
Holographic and so artistic.
The exquisite detail will charm your eye,
And you will understand.
The robotic transmission from HQ
Is monotonous at best,
But as the prophecies drone
While we kiss,
Your heart will surely know
The lengths to which your truelove has gone
To find you,
And your exact biometrical stare.
Then the rest is up to you.
Will you feel flattered,
Or abducted ?


Friday, May 22, 2015

My Love, you are more beautiful to me
Than all the stars that shine upon the sea,
Than snowy peaks and greenest forests pine,
More delicious than chocolate
Or watermelon wine.
Or if I count the seasons winter to fall,
Again you are comeliest of all,
And of all things my ultra favorite.
It overcomes me so that I can't speak of it
Sometimes and dare not breathe,
But you are everything I want.

And everything I need
I find in your sweet face,
And so I stand in silence
And try to trace your brow,
The sweet lids of your deep eyes,
The zygomatic arches, and your kiss
That brings my sighs.
Your sweetness,
Thoughtful things you say and do,
You are perfect,
And I am perfectly in love with you.


Monday, May 18, 2015

Sometimes I want to go all Johnny Dangerously on you iceholes,
Put your bells in slings,
Or cut off your boils and put em in the grinder.
That might show you sons of my bastages
A thing or three.

And while I'm sure the word bannin' committee wouldn't take it too well,
What can they do?
I didn't use the words "clap," "nut," or "knocker?"


Sunday, May 17, 2015

When push comes to fall,
All is well and right with the world,
For power has prevailed
And gravity proven true again.

But when push comes to shove
And love is tested,
And fear is bested
And gravity shown to be the weaker force,
Then strength is shown to be better than power,
And Love to be the very best force of all.

So if I fall, or when,
I hope it is in Love again.


Friday, May 15, 2015

I got your picture Baby
It's In my locket
Chain broke so I put it in my pocket
I washed my britches in the washin machine
I heard clang clang
And the locket's so clean

But you're all washed up
Bammmm bammmm
Yeah you're all washed up Baby
Bompedy bommm
Normal cycle warm with extra oxyclean
Took a Double spin in the washin machine
And now you're all washed up
Bomm bommmm
Yeah you're all washed up

I saw your picture
Somehow I knew
Chain broke on my po heart too
Your picture's clean
But it's so green and wrinkled
Ya went from brad pitt to a seedy rat finkle

And you're all washed up
Bmmmmm bammmm
Yeah you're all washed up Baby
Bompedy bommm
Normal cycle warm with extra oxyclean
Took a Double spin in the washin machine
And now you're all washed up
Bomm bommmm
Yeah you're all washed up

My favorite socks, all in a wad
My heart was nothing but a big dirt clod
I put em all in the washin machine
My heart broke but it came out clean
-I found somebody
Treats me sweet
Got me grinnin
From my head to my feet

So you're all washed up Baby
Yeah yeah all washed up....


In my dream world,
I eat hot dogs
With mustard and ketchup and pickle relish.
And I'm not allergic to wheat,
So I get a real bun,
And I sit at the baseball game
With you, right beside you,
Til the seventh inning stretch,
When I stand and sigh and put both arms over my head,
Then around your neck
And say, "Let's go home Baby,
There never gonna get done here."


Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Nothing inside and nothing out,
I'm just an empty vessel heading for the sun.
And whether it's me
Or my great great great descendants,
One day our yellow sun will go red giant,
And then blackhole
on its way back to the center of its revolutions,
And whatever I might carry with me
Will blaze in the fire,
While all of the things I left behind
Have already turned to ashes,
And so I rest in peace alive.
I let the earth carry me to my destination,
For I realize that
I, too, am burning.

This is my journey of ten thousand steps,
But I never have to take the first,
And I will get there anyway.

I taste the tasteless,
Stand and breathe the whispered wind.
I kneel and sit so very still by the rushing waters.
I cup my hand quietly
And dip it into the stream.
Nothing is done.
Nothing is undone.
I eat nothing,
For I am not hungry,
And I have no thirst.
I'm satisfied, for I know
That enough is enough.


Tuesday, May 12, 2015

She's The kind of gal who'll say,
"I ain't doing so well."
Because she knows it's improper
To say, "I ain't doing so good."
And when you tell her about the inheritance your rich uncle left you,
She'll say, "How mah-velous!"
Because she went to charm school,
Where they taught her to say that instead of "bullshit."
And she would never stoop
To wish anyone harm,
Although there are some of y'all
She wished she never met,
And that's why the lady is a tramp.


Monday, May 11, 2015

In a mirrored pond,
A weeping tree bends,
Sees herself cry.

Her watery eyes
Speak a picture
Of a thousand words.

And there were
Ten thousand things
And seventeen syllables

In all these haiku
When I wrote them
In Old Mandarin.

The publisher
Cut them to fourteen---
Lost in translation.

So I wrote a few poems on a Saturday night?
Described the state of a poor woman's plight.
Is that anything to be excommunicated over
Or against?
I didn't say the sun was the center
Of the galaxy
Instead of the earth
Anything remotely like that.
I just said
What popped in my head
And didn't think it would be that bad,
But apparently,
It was.


Go back up a step or two,
And let me have a look at you
Through my full angle lens.
I want another chance
To capture the expression
Of your dark eyes,
Your gazy brow,
I can't quite place
The lovely stare,
But the one hand
On the bannister
I have a place for,
Sweet Nude, Descending the Staircase,
Right here, in mine.


Sunday, May 10, 2015

The Way is everything to me--
Invisible journey to the Sea
Of Love where no broken shells cut
The feet, and no hot sands will burn.
No undertow pulls lovers out
Nor washes jellyfish up,
Where they lay like scattered mines
And one must keep his head to the grind
To watch for them instead of lifting the eyes
To see the milky twirl of stars,
The full blown sails of ships
So far away on the horizon.

The Beautiful Way will lift our chins
To see our way to the Sea of Love
And back again with pails and pails
Of sand and sea and salt for another time,
When our hearts have the need to sail again,
And we can't remember The Way.


I'm only an angel sent to sway
To keep the flies and mosquitos away
As you dine.
Or if a spider should drop on you,
I'm commissioned to make it shoo
Away from your blessed head.
So if you note a passive breeze,
Or hear me whisper, "If you please,"
Or feel me sway,
Then only answer with a sigh,
Or a wistful, "Si vous plait,"
And pray
For more bugs to seek your shine.


I traded you for food today,
But that's okay,
Cause a girl's got to eat,
And you weren't hungry anyway,
So I traded you for food.

And when you found that you were gone,
Did satisfaction linger on,
Or did you find your empty spot too?

Sometimes you see a face in the crowd,
But the music is playing much too loud,
And the show must go on.
Then you see the face again,
And wonder when, and wonder when,
And then, the face is lost,
And then it's there, and then it's there,
And then it's gone.

And then you're searching,
Play by rote,
Never miss a beat or a note,
But your mind has gone somewhere far away.

And then you're stabbed with hunger pangs,
And you'd trade almost anything
To see that face again,
Or for just some food
So you can live to search another day.

And I traded you for food,
But what would I give to see that face


It was a patriarchal system,
But it was fatherless.
There was no one to go ahead
Or make the way come true,
And so it fostered phobias
And glared,
Exposed insecurities
And laughed,
And mocked the ones that clung to it for hope.
Each one crushed and swept aside
Onto a great conveyor belt
Where the realization finally came,
In seeing the thing grow smaller and smaller:
What a tiny, dispensable, insignificant piece of it I had been!

And now I can be thankful for a gift I didn't want.
In a single twist of fate,
Great tears of joy shed fragrance to the day,
And the boughs of thankfulness
Hung low, so laden now with fruit,
And even by-standers received a bounty.

And now I see,
There's always one more bend
Up in the way,
And one can always turn
To see something beautiful,
Even if it's hidden in
Amongst the everyday.


Monday, May 4, 2015

I walk along the beach at Okinawa at midnight.
The same wind blows
That blew in that night from Saturn,
And in one silver sweep,
It touched me.
The chills began at the back of my ankle,
Ran all the way up the back of my leg,
Over my right shoulder,
Over my left breast,
And around my belly, spiraling inward, until it came to the depth of my navel.

Tonight the salty spray reacts
With whatever the unseen finger used for ink,
And I can see, in the blacklight
From the moon's dark side,
Musical notes, treble clefts, and bass,
Quavers in semi and demi and hemi.
I smile
As the wind comes across me again
To play them
Through my hollow places.

Did I come from your rib?
I think I did.
Our skin is the same,
Our marrow.
The closest distance
Is straight and narrow
And strewn with petals
From your love so fair.
For love is the way
That leads to you,
Lined with alfalfa
And feverfew,
And your fingers in my hair,
And mine
All over you.

Driving home yesterday,
I came to
And realized my hand was in a funny fist on my thigh,
With my thumb under my index finger.
I instantly thought of my Gramma.
She used to sit like that,
One hand on the table with her fist just that way.
I've done this before and had the exact same thought,
Instant memories of her holding her hand that exact way.
My first instinct is to change my hand position,
To be different,
To relax my fist and hold it a different way.
But then I think of her,
And I put it back that way on purpose,
And I think of her some more.


Sunday, May 3, 2015

I make laps in life.
So, if I don't understand
Your intentions
On the first lap,
Or the second,
Will you let me make another
While I blow big pink bubbles
With my bubblegum
And run
Holding my purple shorts up
With both hands
While the winds of enlightenment
Gale force
In beautiful, downtown
Santa Anna, Texas?

Night doesn't end,
It just turns blue
When the first light
Shines off the sea,
And bounces up
Off the coral and shells
Of crab and the dark whales.

It lightens all day
To a sunny white light,
And at noon, a blinding timer,
And everyone knows
To go get their eyes off the line.
They're finally dry.

But the blue doesn't end
When the night lights out,
It just streams into the darkness.
With a thread of longing,
It vanishes in and disappears,
Like the tail of a kite
Whose string has snapped
On a rugged oak,
And blown completely free.


Saturday, May 2, 2015

The trees sway on the backdrop of the sky
They move gently into her
Loving ever loving
And they have loved her
For so long
As long as they remember
And she cries
Because she didn't know

Come she says
Love me
Love me
Come now she says
And let me show you
And make up for every forsaken minute

Time's unceasing wind has blown
All her fearful clouds away
And closed the jealous eyes
And slowly all her stars uncross
And she is wide open
With arms outstretched
And ready
And sighing
Hoping that it's not too late