Monday, December 28, 2015

When I get to that place
Where my world falls apart
Every night at 330 am,
It's your face that I so plainly see.
While the tiles all fall around me
And the whole facade
Collapses just out of my reach,
I realize that it's here I have to be,
Because this is where it all went horribly wrong,
And this is where I must return
To start my journey right again,
To reach the beginning
Of the song.

Here, where the moon
And its reflection meet the water,
Here, where tiny bubbles rise
To meet the midnight air,
I swim upstream
Midst frantic fins,
Midst other sons and daughters,
To find that place where I with them
Must spawn.

And if the night should shine just right,
And if your heart can find you,
And if the things you've said to me are true,
Then maybe you can find me there
And swim with me to Heaven,
Or maybe, just show up,
And I'll find you.


Friday, December 18, 2015

After two broken collar bones
And six concussions,
My season ended,
In fact, I've retired from
Armchair sexuality.
I'm going to spend a few years
Here on the couch with the Colonel.
And then, maybe, if my
Personality heals,
I'll go into broadcasting.


Thursday, December 17, 2015

It's one of those things no one wants to hear,
But it comes so innocently
From the mouths of babes
"When's your Baby due?"

And then the falter,
The hesitant thud,
"I'm not pregnant."


I numb myself
For the Christmas extraction,
Extravaganza of pain and loss.
A sharp shot across the bare nerve,
And all is well.

But in the dark,
I sing unknown 'hims' and praises,
And while I do,
Somewhere, in a parallel universe,
It all comes true,
And the tooth fairy brings me the glittering gown I've always longed for.

And so tonight I smile.
I'm very happy,
For I know that the unseen things
Are more real
Than their sensible counterparts,
And that the riches untold are hidden in them.

- jenn

Turn left at the graveyard,
Down two blocks,
Right just where old man Brown's house burned down,
To the barb wire fence,
With the gate that drags,
And creaks on it's rusty hinges.
I'll be at the pond
By the charred smokestack.

I'll wait for you
With yore fishin pole,
And my grip all packed,
Why so many things burn around here.


I've been in the presence of my people today,
A sweet humbling moment of love,
A river so deep, one can't help but drown.
I felt myself going under.
I saw my tears mingle with theirs on the way down.
Every life I've ever lived,
Every person I've ever wanted to be,
Was present in full regalia'ed vitality
Before my open heart and eyes.

My son took my hand and pulled me up
From the baptism of awareness
When he said he felt the very same way.
He had gone down, too,
And someone had snatched him out
Of the rushing waters
By the dark chestnut brown of his hair,
By the starry dimples of his great night smile.

"People don't mess with the Cherokee, anymore," he said,
Shaking his long hair like a dog.
"Because there 's such a thing now as 'suing,'
And there's a word
Called racist."


Monday, December 14, 2015

The sun comes late for work
Decembers days.
Sluggish and aloof,
Sky stays gray.
Lunchtime finally comes,
And one o'clock
Brings the first smile of the day.
He's already thinking night is on its way.
A stiff drink,
Forget about the numbers,
Stumble up to bed
Where cold dark slumbers.

So let the others dream
Of figgy pudding,
Sugar plums and jelly beans,
I'll bundle up tonight
And pray for Spring,
Where sun comes bounding for me
From his bed
And wakes me with sweeter visions
In his head.


Our future comes to fix our past.
Our kids
Remind us of the things we did
And didn't do.
We love them more than we love
And would never wish the hell
On them that we went through.

But we understand that we
Also err,
And their children will have to come
To bring repair,
And so we waltz loosely
Into time,
One step up with Bach,
Two back with Sondheim.

Thus we allow the new to come
Cut in,
And dance us around the floor


Friday, December 11, 2015

From the brooding nebula's womb
The stars are born.
From profound urges of love
And sex,
Something cosmic mates,
And fiery bursts come forth
And grow into Suns and Daughters.
Plasmic warmth and life take form.
Brilliant indescribable colors and shapes
Move upon the deep,
And dark energy craves
Inadmissible desires.

And, yet, it is from this unspeakable perfection
That you and I
Live and move and have our being.

We stand face to face
In the same Love,
The same Gracious Multiplicity,
The self-same singularity
That stands alone in the face of doubt
And states universal truths:

We are perfect, too.


Monday, December 7, 2015

When all you're fine China
Winds up outside
With the dogs lapping up what's left,
Don't ever despair!
Accept the fact
That your cooking is not appreciated!

A moratorium to cooking then!
'I'll cook for myself,' said the Little Red Hen,
'The rest of ya'll can go to McDonald's!'


Or didn't care
That scrap of trash
Escaped her window
Cracked for air
Inside her smoky luxury SUV.
But it happened to wrap
And thunderclap
Around my old a.m. antennae.
I reached out at the light
And held it tight
In my cold fingers:
A receipt for a rockstar energy drink
And a pack of Virginia slims
With a lipstick print
Of her ruby doobie lips
Daubed carelessly.
And at the next light
I pulled up beside
Her, and handed it back
And said, 'I believe you dropped something.'
Am I bad?


Saturday, December 5, 2015

I didn't know
How singed my heart had grown
Until you dropped your thought conditioners in,
And now, as white bubbles effervesce
I see,
How love can color
Any reality,
And make it gooder.

The church is a fortress these days.
One you can't get in.
The windows are locked
And reinforced by alarms.
I just wanted a place to get warm
With you.

You kissed me here once,
And I had never been kissed in a chapel.
But now the law has come.
I won't forget
The smell of stale sterilization.
Moldy cleanliness
Leaves a mark.

The neighbors were angry.
I'd taken a picture of their ornamental cabbage
Without their express permission.
I thought it must've been licensed,
But it was their therapist.

So it wasn't a surprise when things took a turn for the worse at their work.
Eldon offered to help the missus get on at the post office.
He said he figgered she was bright enough to pass the civil servant's exam,
And what with her walking the streets all day, anyway,
And we all knew
She was so close to going postal.