Saturday, March 31, 2018

I debated with myself,
Whether I should clean the cat box today,
Because it needs to be done.
And though I would prefer to do it tomorrow,
When I actually have the time,
Tomorrow is Easter Sunday,
And I don't know what my neighbors might think about me,
Outside, cleaning my cat box on Easter Sunday.

Now, I'm not really a respecter of days or times or persons,
As it is said that God himself is that way,
But if I do believe in a holy day of rest,
I tend to take mine on the seventh day.

And today is Saturday!
And the Lord rested!
And I think I will, too,
Even from the worry of what the neighbors might think or do.

-jenn


Wednesday, March 28, 2018

I am acquainted with gypsies.
I recognize them from old country.
I like to mess with them,
Tempt fate by their curses of evil eye.

I see them here in walmart parking lot
With big pickle jar under arm
Passing out flyers and asking "donations."
I sit in car looking sweet and harmless,
With head down pretending to fumble in purse
Til they get close enough
To tap on window.

Then I make cross-eyed, goofy "I Love Lucy" face,
With big, wide-mouthed, dopey smile,
And look up right at them into their face,
And she suddenly makes pitiful excuse for smile and waves
And moves the hell along !

In Russia we call it "out gypsy the gypsy game"
In walmart parking lot, game is called
"Now I got you, you son of a bitch!"

-jenn
It helps me,
Your life,
The invisible bridge
Between an unlikely pair
Who may or may not have ever met,
But I have heard of you.

And something, somewhere
About your life
Educates mine,
Enlightens me,
Makes me better.

So fight each day to etch your art as true and real
As you possibly can.
Do not give in to the urge to represent
Some falsehood of your everyday,
But the realities of your life,

So that the inspirations seeded in others
Will also be real enough to replace the illusions with possibilities.

-jenn





Monday, March 26, 2018

Historic announcement
From prestigious college
Known for football
In Oklahoma !

New President!
Not a woman, not a person of color!
Rich white man!
Mission: to carry on good old boy system!
Big surprise to history!
Big surprise to free country!
Free to keep stays quo.

-jenn

You cannot lie nude and soak in the salt pools that eddy
Off the southern coast of France any more,
And it's not because the landscape has changed,
Or the regulatory nature of some bureaucratic administration,

But some bad idea of a greedy CEO
Has polluted the water there,
So you don't dare put a callous toe in,
Much less some tender private area
That would shrivel quickly under the weight of carcinogens.

-jenn
It is not usual that one can retain pension
From two opposing nationalities,
But
It's possible.
As a double agent,
I double crossed everyone and everything except myself.
I took a page from my personal deity,
Kokopeli,
The trickster god.
I concocted wild stories to tell either side in regards to other.

One suit I overheard trying to repeat the information,
"Unbelievable!" He said.
The other gasped, shaking head,
"Yeah but you can't make this shit up!"

"Ha! Oh yes you can," I thought to
Self.
"I just did."

Some of you will look down on me,
Think less of my character,
And all the while you cherish Hamlet,
Tho his attempt at "to thine own self be true,"
Was to pop cyanide caplet and self destruct.

But I say, Is right to double cross anyone and anything
That insults your own soul,
And these countries,
They got what they were looking for.

-jenn

Sunday, March 25, 2018

I cannot blaspheme this night by speaking,
And yet I hear a cry, a plea,
"Can't you stay up with me for one hour?"

In the holy quiet and dark of night,
I put on my big fur hat
And boots,
My longest coat,
And at 2am,
I find myself walking 2 miles with someone who asked me to walk one.

The bridge across the Tomsk is long.
The river and ice run together down.
Their sound runs up with the wind and trees.
This is southern Siberia!
The Beauty is harsh
But hearty.

And I will let your river run
Til you're hungry again.
Then I will say that the potatoes I have cooking in the oven on low
Will be ready by the time we get home.

And we will turn and walk together in silence,
In reference of the holy life we share,
All the way,
Until after we have had our breakfast.

-jenn

Saturday, March 24, 2018

I fussed with my husband about an old bench
That sat out in our front yard for years.
I was tired of looking at it.
I finally convinced him to sell it in our garage sale,
And lo! and behold! The neighbors right across the street
Bought it and set it in their front yard,
Perfectly aligned with the picture window in my front room,
And now, they sit in it all the time!
I'm still tired of looking at it,
And I'm really tired of looking at them!

- jenn
I watched the weather on TV at noon
While I ate my sandwich.
I only had a little time off before I had to go back to work.
I listened to the weatherman tell how it was going to storm tomorrow.
I looked out the window at the perfect day,
One of only four that Oklahoma will have for an entire year.
I was able to feel a little of it
As I walked from my front door back to my car,
And thought, as I drove back to work,
What a waste of waste of time it was to watch the weather,
When I could've been out enjoying it instead.

-jenn
I practice magic in the night.
A dark art,
I clean the catbox.
It's better this way.
I can't see all the things I've missed.

I run my bathwater in the dark.
The light burned out a long time ago.
Knowing that, even tho I've strained the water,
Not seeing all the impurities I've missed,
Will help me lean back, and relax better.

My mind is quick.
It works too fast.
The smoke and mirror,
The slight of hand
Helps divert my eyes,
Distracts me deeper into the illusion of some nice reality
That I can bear
A little longer,
Because I do not know all the things I'm missing.

-jenn


The colors I see are faded,
Like you and me along a backdrop of time,
But the colors I feel are warm,
Like the sun coming over the hill
In the morning.
I kneel and pray
The day will bring us together.
I rise and stand and lift my hands to the sky.
Does it hear? Does it care
If love or roses grow,
Here below in the underworld?
The impertinent flip of its cloudy brow tells me
It does not.
But the gracious rays of the sun come,
And the ultraviolet lovelights say
That bluebells and daisies can't stay here for long,
And the only thing wrong would be
Not to have a beautiful day anyway.

-jenn

Friday, March 16, 2018

To become political prisoner is not good
I was prepared
By living for years in Oklahoma
They tell joke of man who learns he has six months to live
And doctor tells him
Marry meanest woman you can find and move to Oklahoma
Dying man asks if this will cure him
Doctor says no, but that six months will feel like forever
It's same for Russian gulag

-jenn
It is not out of poverty
I eat my
Pea soup for breakfast,
But out of fidelity and devotion,
Out of love and true resolve,
Out of a hunger for human dignity
And a natural sense of purpose
In the earth and in the universe,
And with a prayer for all these things,
And a deep hunger for significance,
I begin my day.

-jenn

Monday, March 5, 2018

If diamonds were queens
And green grass had wings
We'd stand on the sky
To wave goodbye to the not-so--puritan pioneers,
Black sheep who will marry their sons and daughters off
To the children of other black sheep.

A new tribe,
A new way,
And yet some young wanderer
Finds an old cave.

And standing in the midst
Of the vena vulva cava,
One is too close to see
The great hands carved on each side
Which hold the mouth open.

But once inside,
The vibe of the dark is holy,
And lighting a lantern,
The wanderer beholds
Bas reliefs from ancient olden times.
The wanderer gasps,
Blows the lantern out quickly,
And worships
The vast goddess,
Blindly.


-jenn

Sunday, March 4, 2018

Om and Amen.
I shouldn't know these things,
But I do.
I've seen through Frau Konig's
Magic Mirror,
And heard the secret notes
Of Mozart's Magic Flute,
And by these means,
I am eternally knowledgable,
And yet, remain, as an innocent one,
A perpetual virgin,
As only the temple allows.

And if by chance
You see me tonight
Serving communion
Under the plastic conch shell lights
That are strung around the portico,
Find yourself, where you are on the spiral,
And try to decide
Whether to go
Out or in,
And then ponder,
Does anything really happen by chance?
Om and Amen.

-jenn

Saturday, March 3, 2018

I dip myself into happiness.
Like a silver ladle,
I fill myself with the cool refreshing Waters of joy and optimism.
The chemical formula for dignity is
Two atoms of joy and one of opulence.
These bind naturally with great cohesion
To create a molecule so different
From everything except water,
One that expands as it gets colder,
One that bubbles up as it is heated,
Something that remains contented
No matter what force is ever applied.

And my ladle runneth over,
And my ladle itself is clean,
And shimmers with the abundance
That flows across it and drips out
To give life to everything it touches,
The magical, alchemical, effervescent J2O!

-jenn


My coins are round and silver like the moon.
Cool and flat, I finger them in my pocket.
I consider what I may buy at the market.
What will I trade my coins for?
Maybe some rich delicious snack?
Maybe a bobble, a trinket on string,
Some colorful yarn with a feather attached
Which the market man tells me will catch my dreams at night
So that I can make them come true.

But I think if I'm going to have to make my dreams come true, myself,
I would rather have the ones I dream about in the day,
The ones I see with my eyes wide open.
Those visions gleam back at me.
They smile and nod.
They tell me to keep those cool flat shimmering slivers of the moon
All to myself,
Safe in my pocket,
While I stroll through the market
Without ever saying a word.

-jenn