Why are you you?

Why am I me?

Why don’t we see

How beautiful it is that we are a part

Of something divine?

There are venues where you have to say

Before you play “Vincent,” (The starry starry night),

Now this song is about the plight of Vincent Van Gogh,

And many people still won’t know what you’re singing about.

Let’s try not to shout.

Try not to glare.

Yes, whisper your truth.

See who salutes it that way.

You’re beautiful, especially when you’re so aware

That you’re a part of something so divine.

-jenn

 There are some famous people from nearby my hometown,

And I’ll tell you who they’re related to:

These two brothers who used to ride the bus with me.

They were grimy and unkempt,

Ungroomed and greasy.

One of them skipped school a lot.

One day I found a note on the floor beside the trashcan

That the younger brother thought he’d thrown away.

It was from his mother, to whom it may concern,

Asking if herboy could please be excused from PE class

Because he had leukemia.

I kept it in my duffel bag for at least two weeks,

Tormented by what I should do with it.

Turn it in?

When the kid had tried to throw it away on the bus?

None of us at school, including the teachers knew he was sick,

But he sure looked it.

One day it hit us that he hadn’t been at school for awhile,

And his older brother wasn’t riding the bus anymore.

He was driving an old beat up car around town.

Some of the better, more Christian parents of the town

Had given him the nickname Satan.

They were pretty sure he was dealing drugs 

Or at least taking them.

And I still had that note in my duffel bag.

Every once in a while I would take it out 

And read it, and cry.

I still do.

Or at least I did

Till my house burned down a month ago.

Everything went up in smoke,

Including that old duffel bag,

Swollen with strange eclectic memories

That I collected through my teenage years.

They helped me remember the fears I had, 

And how far I’ve come since then.

But right now I don’t feel I’ve come very far at all,

When I think of the Croft’s brothers

And their very famous uncles,

And how close to greatness they truly might have been.

-jenn

 I’m soaking up all the blue I can from the sky,

All the light that’s left from the winter clouds.

A dry snow falls like talc.

I’m right back at the chalkboard,

Taking it all back to formula,

My pablum, just this dusty snow that falls.

Why do I think dreams might come true

If I can just soak up enough blue?

When you drink from the Midnight Sun,

A heart of darkness sets in on you.

The message intended for your toenails

Goes to your head,

And those intended for you mind

Go to bed with your feet.

No answers this time for the chalkboard. 

I’m standing where the teacher told me,

My problem written in white

On a green chalkboard.

The class is giggling at my ass

And my incognition.

Damn that teacher anyway! 

Damn this school! these kids!

And all these diagrams I’m sposed to know!

I want to go outside, 

Ride my horse,

Grasp my fingers in his coarse mane

And hang on tight

Until the ride is over,

And I’m carried off to where I want to go,

Because I’ve been to that place where problems disappear,

Where grammar fails and algebra 

And social schemata of who is right and wrong,

Who is popular, who is strong,

Who is weak,

But that’s not here

Where problems reign

And bullies have their way

And the mind slips from an ultra conscious state

Into a self-conscious one.

I’m done.

I’m going outside 

To ride my horse.

-jenn 

 I am all about letting the music do the talking,

If it only will,

But I’ve got to learn

That the music won’t speak up for itself.

Maybe it knows something I don’t.

Music won’t waste its breath 

Trying to explain itself

To those who will never give a damn, anyway.

But play yourself for me, Sweet Music of the Spheres?

Please.

I’m listening. 

-jenn

 When you come to

Pick me up

I see you looking around

Trying to find me

I’m standing right here

Maybe I should have told you

I’ll be the girl wearing a brown paper sack

And burlap toe-shoes

I’m blending in to the scenery 

But, dance with me

And maybe it will be

The landscape that pales

-jenn 

 I’m a terrible person 

Who will love me anyway

Only a terrible person can love 

A terrible person

I start by loving myself 

And admit that everything I ever tried

To do to make me a better person 

Just made me better 

At being terrible 

And now I find

By loving me anyway 

I can love you 

Because you’re really 

Just a terrible person too

😁😍💗🦋💗

-jenn

 I wander through the plague 

Like I’ve got good sense

Like a goose 

I wake up in a new world every day

I gander at the ganders

And gosle the goslings

And continue to meander 

Along my way

Is this how it was

Back then

In the plague

I resort to nonsense like 

A lucky clover in a medicine bag

A simple vaccination 

Ring around the rosy

Pocket full of posy

I can’t smell anything 

Is this how it’s going to be

-jenn