Too Young, Two Judgmental 

In a flash of his eyes I saw

His judgement of me.

I would become too fat for him.

Any children I bore who wore 

My resemblance in their DNA

Would be too short to quarterback

In the NFL, and while they might

Be bright enough to attend medical school, 

As he was,

They'd never have the chiseled chin,

But maybe just a double one

Like I would someday,

And so he never asked me for a date,

That neighbor I had in college,

And it was s good thing,

Because while he might have had foresight,

I had the knowledge of 'now,'

And knew that leopards never change their spots,

And most people who are assholes when they're young,

Only become more ass-holish

Through and through as they age.

So I never asked him out either.

-jenn

I fall apart at the schemes.

The snares I laid have snared me,

The scandalous bait, the family traits,

The human flaws.

The jaws of life come for me

In dreams, to set me free from traffic jams

And moving violations.

I walk back home while sirens scream

And alarm bells ring for me to wake.

I dig up yams in my back yard garden

And roast them in a fire,

And eat them til I'm satisfied.

I feel at peace and so

I go inside and fetch the bird out of his cage

And bring him out

And set him free as well.

Time will tell,

And no one knows how the stories will go,

But they may never end well,

And then again, they may never end.

-jenn

All the seasons merge today

Summer winter spring and fall

Dead leaves blow but new green shoots are sprouting

The winter wind is cold

But I'm sweating in the sun

The sky is blue

Some trees are bare

But the liveoaks and the evergreens

Share their verdant spray with the day

With me, they seem to be saying

Follow me and I will show you the Way to everlasting life

Study me and know 

My roots go deep below

My trunk is strong

My branches pray

My leaves know how to stay ever-perennial

And I share my love and life and shade quietly with anyone

Who will take the time to stare up at the sky with me

In wonder and in awe 

I stare up through its green leaves

There seems to me to be no season

No time, no reason, and not even any curvature of space

Just a beautiful day for members of the human race

To love each other

-jenn 

If we squeeze up together just right

We could lie under the Christmas Tree tonight

Make love to one another til dawn

Yawn and then say Merry Christmas 

And it truly will be

Me lovin you

You loving me

It's Christmas Eve 

I've got hard rock 

Funkadelic hardcore jollies blaring in the kitchen

The trash truck just went by

But tonight you and I will squeeze up tight

Between presents that aren't ours

And spend the hours

Waiting for the clatter

It might just be the Christmas tree

Falling over and us

Getting tangled in the tinsel and garland

Me lovin you

You lovin me

Not a dream of sugar plum fairies

Just the way it oughta be

Me lovin you

You lovin me

The new year arrives in a diaper,

But she looks about 40 years old.

Her lips are red and her fingertips

Are sharpened.

She's smoking a cold-hearted cigarette

And sits down in my favorite chair.

She crosses her long legs,

Exhales smelly smoke into my face

And asks, "What now?"

I'm trying to pick up the place

In the light of this unexpected company.

"You knew I was coming!" she chides.

"Well I wasn't exactly expecting you,"  I tell her.

"I thought I had the place baby proofed,

But I'm not sure what to hide from you,

Or where I can put it that's safe."

I become aware of a quiet knocking 

At my door.

Truth is there, trying to tell me something.

"I'm doing fine," I tell her.

And slam the door in her face.

"And I don't want any!"

But I'm a notorious liar

When it comes to my welfare 

And/or lack thereof.

I leave Truth there, still knocking,

To deal with Baby, the baby new year.

Now I'm even more distracted.

I want to scream at everyone 

To leave me alone,

In my fate, in my misery,

In my happiness, in my peace,

In my everyday walking around 

Talking to myself attempt at surviving.

But Truth is still knocking at the front door.

Maybe I'll slip out the back,

Walk down the street,

Have a glass of tea,

See my reflection in the panes

Of the store front windows

All decorated for Christmas,

And then I can pretend again

That everything is fine with me,

That there is a Santa, there is a god,

A future brighter than either Truth

Or Baby, the baby new year proposes,

That I can close my eyes

And no one can see me.

But when I woke this morning,

The only thing I wanted was an apple and some chocolates,

And to sleep, til the sun returns in spring.

-jenn

I find myself on a dead end street,

A fancy one, but dead end nonetheless.

I soothe myself by looking at the picturesque ways

The rich folks have chosen to decorate 

Their private landscapes.

I've come to the end at a circle drive.

A big wooden snowman says hi to me

With one hand raised.

He's painted white with a painted carrot nose.

I make the circle and continue around.

It seems in most of my dreams,

That at the end of a road like this,

Suddenly the scene unfolds and allows me

To go into some surreal change of scenery.

This painted snowman has me stumped today.

He has a creepy smile upon his face.

Maybe I'm not dreaming today,

And I'll have to really find my way 

Without the aid of my subconscious mind,

Or maybe, quite subconsciously,

My mind has taken the wheel from me.

I check the rear view mirror and now

The painted snowman waves goodbye.

And I know I'll never see him again,

But the car keeps going. Where?

I hope I never see him again.

I hope I won't. I hope I won't.

I hope I never see him again.

I won't come down this way again.

I hope I don't. I hope I don't.

-jenn

The skies that he painted 

Were more beautiful 

Than the skies that I saw out my window.

His clouds were cloudier.

His gulls, that soared o'er the sea

In his paintings,

Were much gull-ier than these

Which fly over me today

Here in Tuscany.

Maybe in Corsica the skies are blue.

Maybe, tho their exports included

Rebellious slaves and cheap wine,

But their imports are exiled poets and kings,

Painters, sons of Charlemagne,

Who rejected Christianity.

All sent to certain madness,

Where the wind and ancient siren songs

Lullaby them into a sleep where their dreams

Are even dreamier, and distilled their tears into art.

And now I cry.

And I see the sky

Is bluer than I thought,

And this one gull

Is gull-ier,

And his sigh bids me fly with him,

Or at least to fall 

Through the blue of the sky with him,

And land on the rocks of Corsica.

-jenn

When Christmas cheer gets high

I dangle low on the Christmas tree

So the cats can see me

Maybe they will play with me

Because I'm shiny

And maybe they will carry me away

Like a mouse they've killed

And present me to the owner of this stead 

Then at least I'll know who is in charge

And I'll know who to ask

In case I want two birthdays next year

Or something else that seems impossible 

The space and time to be myself

Without having to apologize or explain anything 

-jenn

Someone wants to do my makeup.

Someone wants to do my hair.

Someone wants to do me,

Right here, in an armchair at the dentist's office.

I'm going to go home and clean my own teeth.

I've been trained, I know how.

I can follow proper procedure

When it comes to my oral care.

And if my hair's a mess,

The wind will fix it,

And the sun will make me sweat,

And my face will be better because of it,

And my love life?  Is no one's business, anyhow.

-jenn

"Mommy, is Jesus' last name Christ?"

Mommy has a Phd in linguistics

And wants to say

That Christ is an anglicized version 

Of the Greek word Xristos,

Which was borrowed from the Egyptians

Who had gotten it from Sumeria,

And that the Ancient Hindu word Krishna

Carries the same name

And the very same meaning!

Mommy longs to explain the phrases:

Doxology, logos, hoc est meus corpus,

Anointed one!

She longs to impart

Something gloriously divine!

But should Mommy just say,,

"Yes, Dear, Christ is Jesus' last name,"

Or should Mommy tell her child

That the Life that he, himself, carries on the inside,

Even as a child, (especially as a child!)

Is brighter, too, than a thousand suns,

And that the kingdom of kindness and insight

Dwelling within everyone who lives and loves,

Is the very anointed kingdom of god 

In any language, in any time

That Life and Love and Peace and Joy are let to reign.

Mommy just smiles, and stops what she's doing

To give her child a big hug 

And says, "i don't know, Love,

What do you think?"

-jenn 

I can prepare myself for boredom.

I've faced countless hours

In a boardroom listening to people pretend

That all of us are in on deciding

What will be done,

Just to have the one in charge do what they planned to all along.

There's no hope or love or charity there,

No imagination, no collaboration.

But I'm confronted with crazy

At the gas station.

My heart breaks,

And my soul aches

For the woman by the door

Talking to herself

About nothing more and nothing less

Than what she'll have for breakfast

Tomorrow morning.

She has great faith that she'll make it through the night.

She is imagining it.

She's collaborating with everyone in sight

To aim for something

And not err.

Would I miss the mark and sin

If I gave the woman a dollar,

Or if I didn't?

Either way, I have no power to save her body

Or her soul, or that of the control freak CEO

I've been cursing about all day.

But I guess,at least, I won't have to wonder 

If I should have given him my spare change.

-jenn

If I could dress a little more

"I'm-not-from-here-ish,"

Maybe you could understand 

How foreign this world of yours

Truly is to me.

But I can't go out to Walmart and buy 

The native dresses I would choose,

And it would be so hard for me

To shoot a deer,

And I've lost the knowledge

My ancestors had

Of how to tan and soften the hide

And stitch it up to fit me right.

I've lost the knowledge of how to live and die.

I have one dress that my great grandmother wore.

It fit her through many stages of life,

And it seems to fit me now.

I only saw her once without it.

She took it off and folded it and laid it on the end of her bed.

She walked outside naked into the front yard and sat underneath an old oak tree.

She said she would die there.

She told us all goodbye.

She had been diagnosed with cancer.

And the next day she was dead.

I save this dress for a rainy day.

Or maybe when they tell me 

I'm going to die,

I'll put on and go outside,

And find that oak tree

And pray I find the happy hunting/ dancing grounds

Of my great grandmother.

-jenn 

In the winter I say,

"Let's run away somewhere warm!"

And in summer I'm told,

"Let's get away where it's cold!"

Life is long.

Life is short.

So many

Missions to

Abort

On the way to

Motherhood!

So many dreams to dissipate,

While I wait on the dryer to load,

But one thing is always constant:

The voice in my head

Saying, "You are my Poet!"

The vision in my mind

Telling me, "It's okay to be

Where you are til you get here,

Where everything will be fine,

And this gorgeous red velvet dress

Will fit you just right,

And the night will be yours

And even the day,

And no one can say

You didn't pay your dues.

No one, will say a word

Except wow!

Keep planting seeds!

Keep planting seeds!

Keep planting seeds!

Let them all grow!"

-jenn

When I dream you're busy thinking of 

Who you can send invitations to,

And my sky clouds and my sun burns down to rain,

My green eyes flash with envy,

Until I see,

You've invited me personally with your smile.

Yes, with your mouth,

The one you eat with,

The one where words have formed 

To say, "I love you,"

The one whose kiss has swallowed me,

You've invited me personally 

With that mouth.

So yes, I guess I'll come,

If I can quit pouting long enough,

And remind myself, it's ok to be me.

I'm jealous, and this is just one of 

The many things you love about me.

-jenn

A borrowed maternity dress is her wedding gown,

Two children already in tow.

She's walking through town.

He stood her up at the justice of the peace.

She's trying to call her niece to babysit.

Now, so she can find him,

But she had in mind a one hour honeymoon.

But she can smile for it's still too early

To tell such things, and she's not one to look a gift ring

Up the finger, but she's a dead ringer

For his last ex-wife, and he's not 

Going down that road again,

Even if the baby is his.

I said, even if the baby is his.

But!

She can still smile 'cause

She thinks it's too early

To tell such things,

But it ain't.

It's late.

It's much too late again.

-jenn

I prayed for a woman I'd never met

And begged for her to get better.

She was in a coma

And the doctors said

She would never recover.

She was the mother of a friend of mine,

And my friend kept after me to pray,

And I did, I asked the universe 

If my friend's mother could live.

Night and day I prayed,

For three weeks,

While the woman lay in a coma.

And finally one day my friend called me

In tears of joy.

Her mother had awakened.

Her body had healed up enough that

The doctors marveled and planned to release her from the hospital.

And when she came back to our small town,

She went in to stay for a few more days

At a rehab facility,

And my friend took me to see her.

My friend stopped at the nurses station,

And I kept walking down the hall,

And when I got in to the dining room,

A heard a woman call my name.

I turned and she told me 

She was the one I had prayed for.

"But how did you know it was me?" I asked,

For I had never met her.

"I saw you praying for me

When I was in the coma," she said.

"I recognize you by your prayers.

Yours go up like bubbles into the air

And pop into butterflies,

And continue up into the sky

Until they reach their destination.

Prayers matter," she said,

"And I thank you so much

For being able to love and pray

For me."

I see the star.

I see the sky in my mind,

And I can make wishes anytime,

And they can come true.

But will it take you being in a coma to see

My prayers, my love, for you,

Going up, like bubbles, into the sky,

And popping into a butterflies In the second stage,

So they can make it all the way to heaven?

-jenn