Sunday, July 31, 2016

Golden age, silver, titanium, bronze,
The prophet spoke kindly, and pulled a punch
When he spoke of us, in our modern day,
Iron, mingled with the clay from which we dross.
We're de-volving, yet can't even be
The Noble Savages, whose progeny
We clearly are. We can't seem to cross
Back over or re-enter the chrysalis
That made us err, that dilutes our blood
From demigod to human, but not quite as good
As hominid.

We long for a purity of one kind or the other,
But can't decide which goddess is our mother,
The stars, or Eve, or necessity?
Are we the invention of slavery on earth?
The product of natural selection?
Or a ravel on a kitchen curtain
In the dream of a monk who sleeps
On a tapestried yoga mat,
While a playful Himalayan cat
Bats at the theories, unravels the strings,
And wonders that humans are curious things,
Then nods, and winks, at the Sphinx.


Saturday, July 30, 2016

I throw my fits between the first and second watches
While they're changing guard.
I need the signals to go all the way through my corpus callosum
To the other side of my brain.
I need them to know about you
And what you've done to me,

How you've burned me with your cigarettes,
Mocked me when I coughed and cried,
Sided with my abusive boyfriends.
You marauded across my brain,
Strewing your mind mines
Until I can't even decide what I should wear today
For trying to please you.

I want my left hand to know
What my right hand has been through,
So it will train in mastery of its weapon,
So its slings will find their arrows true,
And even the memory of you
Will be shattered from my mirror
And my life, once, and for all.


Friday, July 29, 2016

The moon goddess slips off for a nap
Just before sunrise,
For it's the coolest time of day.
The Sun's been away for so long.
No one knows where she goes to lay her head,
But mortals still resting in their beds
Will sleep a little deeper then,
And lovers who find each other then
Will feel their passions burn with higher flames.
And those who come out from under
The spell of dreams that are all but gone,
Will remember long forgotten names,
And call on them, and see
Why it's darkest just before the dawn,
And all the other meanings of true magic maxims
And scientific schemes,
For her pale wisdom drips like dew
And nourishes any and all who will love and think
And wish on her in her morning delight.


Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Come, if you can, and look for me in the dark,
Or is it the absence of light
That let's you see me as I am?
Touch the skin of my thigh tonight.
Feel the cool with your fingertips.
Is it the absence of heat that keeps us warm ?

What is this absence of you I feel?
The words escape me now
To tell you what it was before,
Or to explain just how it's come to be.
Hate is not quite the absence of love,
Life not the absence of death,
But my face shows the absence of smile,
My heart the absence of breath
Truly inspired, or made to breathe
By laughter and wry giggles and sighs.

Nature abhors the absence of you,
And so do I .

Life herds its cats
Patiently, clockwise,
Through the expanding time.
We think we can go
Wherever we want in the universe,
But as we walk quickly,
Then stop, then go,
With our tails straight up,
And then crooked,
We find we don't really know
Just what it is we're rubbing ourselves on,
Or scratching our claws on,
Or why we feel so rushed as we do.

But while the trail of crooked tails
Ahead of us is dotted
With the question marks of a thousand more
Just like us--
Unanswered lives
Herded along
To some important party,
Where we'll feel underdressed
Unless we're not
Dressed at all,
But know that where it all leads
Is to some convenient corner
Of the room where we can finally be scooped up
And put outside
With the other kitties.
(And that--if we're lucky.)


When it rains in the day
And the sky is blue,
You can be sure
There's a rainbow.
Find the sun,
Then turn away.
Open your eyes and see
The Ribbons of Light
In the air.

When it rains in the night
And the stars shine out,
You can be sure
Of the Tenebrae.
Find the moon.
Embrace its inky shadows,
And feel the invisible band
Prism up and about
All through your sunless soul.

Love the day.
But lovvvvvvvvve the night!
With the love of a thousand bootless dreams!
Laugh with the day.
But smile at the night.
Flirt with its darkness,
And be it's true lover.

For when the Sun comes
And crawls in bed with the Moon,
Then you will hear the rainbows
And smell them.
Then you will taste the delicious spray,
And then, you will know that Soon
Is on it's way.

I loved you first
But I am not your first love
Someone else turns your head each day
I'm there in the background
Yet I amaze you briefly from the corner of your eye

But I will never have any of your real attention
Now you have lost mine
You didn't see the love you had
For searching for the love you didn't get
So now I will go
And try not to make the same mistake that you have

"Poets are born, not made," they say.
Are you a poet anyway?
A poem is something which, when read,
Stands one's hair on the back of one's head
Up and out, and so, it seems,
That the reader is the one it is who deems,
"What is a Poem,"
And, "Who is a Poet."

What am I five?
Still dancing with a bear on tv?
That you fail to recognize me
In all my radiant shine?
The adults look on in horror,
In wonder that the bear doesn't eat me.
But I am a Poet, born not made,
And so the Bear is mine.

So come, if you will,
Turn the till with your plow.
Smell the earth. See the worms,
And declare your love
To the Moon Goddess,
So that your seeds will grow.
Sing the songs that madmen wrote to her,
And pray that your sons and daughters will know,
If they are poets, or not.


Tuesday, July 26, 2016

When it rains in the day
And the sky is blue
You can be sure
There's a rainbow
Find the sun
Then turn away
Open your eyes and see
Ribbons of light
In the air

When it rains in the night
And the stars shine out
You can be sure
Of the Tenebrae
Find the moon
Embrace its inky shadows
And feel the invisible band
In your sunless soul

Love the day
But lovvvvvvvvve the night
With the love of a thousand bootless dreams
Laugh with the day
But smile at the night
Flirt with the darkness
And be it's true lover.

And then you will know.


Monday, July 25, 2016

Foot Fetish

He comes into the room with head held high,
Averts his eyes and refuses to cast them down
To where my feet are dangling on the floor,
For there he would all but throw his blue-jeweled crown
And pounce and nibble on my toes.

He's done it twice before and knows,
Remembers well how, in his surprise,
I threw him off, and others chided him,
Stared him down with eyes so wide.
"How could he do that!"

"How could he not," I wondered, too, and smiled,
But he pinned me fast. His teeth were sharp,
And in that pain, in the midst of our love spat,
I'd almost forgotten that he is a cat.


Thursday, July 21, 2016

The Great White Spirit burns bright
And quiet,
And to hear
The beauty of the music of the flames,
One must come apart from
The dull roar of the herd,
So that one may dance
To the very names of things
To the songs the Spirit sings
About the wind.
For this is where TrueLife is lived,
Where Reality prevails in Peace,
And Friendship lasts for
More than a lifetime.

Peace doesn't look the same on everybody.
It's not a one-size-fits-all.
Everyone gets to try on different styles.
But when you see yourself in it,
And nod your head and smile and say,
"This one makes me happy!"
Then you know you started on your way.

And when your eyes light up because you realize
That you don't have to wait for your lucky song to come on the radio anymore,
But you can download it for a mere $.99,
Then steppingstones ahead come in to view.

But when you come to know that all the things that make you you
Are exactly right and do not need to change.
You will sigh
And smile
And yawn
And stretch
And fill yourself with every good and perfect thing
For free.

Cronos himself was pro-abortion.
Certain prophecies can make a man that way.
A woman, too, if self-fulfilled,
May decide
Like Ganga Maiya,
The Hindu River Goddess,
That the embryonic guests who choose her womb
Do not have any desire to be born separately again,
But wish for her to abort their births
In admission and execution of
Some predestined pact.

But those who do survive such godly progenitors,
Will be kings and queens upon the earth,
Who grow up and persist in divinity,
And yet may face prophecies all their own,
And even decisions.


Tuesday, July 12, 2016

I live with a rock star.
He has long hair and smells.
He flips his bangs so cavalierly
And tells me that I'm wrong.
He rolls his eyes at what I'm wearing
And tells me I've come to dress
Like the cat lady on 27th street.
Finally a sweet moment from him
He flops on the bed
With a vulnerable pout and says,
"I'm hungry."

Because she would not stoop to pick up trash,
She let a rusted razor blade lay
In the street just up the block or two
From her own home.
And later, when her child went out
Barefoot, in a hurry to try
And pet a stray cat he'd fed the other day,
The razor had washed along the curb
And down to the front of the woman's house,
And her child just almost stepped on it,
But didn't.

Now whatever platitude you might try apply,
Whatever theology comes into your mind,
Dangerous things are so because
Universally they are found to be dangerous,
And if one has the chance to dispense with it,
One should,
For one pound of cosmology
Ain't worth one ounce
Of goood, common sense.


Saturday, July 9, 2016

What is important?
The search for truth.
What can we do
To help humanity progress?
Make enduring arts that depict reality as best as we can currently guess it.
And for this lifetime?
Encourage our brothers and sisters of all races,
With whom we share this same common boat,
To keep rowing
Toward something better.


I wanted four and two,
But the waitress said they only came three and three.
"Five and one seems better to me," I said.
"I don't like symmetry."
"But most folks do," she said,
And took the menu from my hand.
I don't know why any of us ever bother,
When it's six of one,
Half a dozen of the other.

- jenn

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

I was born.
And that makes me a winner.
All of the particular qualities
That thrived in me as a single cell,
As the spark that made me capable of division,
And therefore life,
All these things have
Made me viable,
And I'm still viable today.
So deal with me world!
Because I'm here,
And I matter!
I cogitate,
And I am,
Therefore I love.
I live.
I know.
And therefore,
Am insufferable!