Jenny

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

A Ghost Story a short, Jenny story

When I was a little girl, my parents gave me a Casper doll.  He had a string out the backside of his neck.  Pull the string and he declared, "Hi, I'm Casper the Friendly Ghost."

Oh, how I loved him.  Casper slept with me and I carried my doll to breakfast and into the living room to watch his cartoon on television.  We rode my tricycle and the swing. We went for hikes and ran around the neighborhood.

One summer day, Casper and me climbed into the wading pool in the back yard.  Splashing, jumping, sculling, dipping and paddling about, we had a great swim together.  Then we left the pool and sat on my towel to sun.  I pulled Casper's string and what I heard astounded me. "Higgg, Imgg Caszgger thag Freggly Ggghhoat."

Oh dear!  Even though his terry cloth body was soggy, his plastic face held its sheen and his happy expression never changed. I like to believe my doll enjoyed his one dip in my pool.

Technologies evolve. Time and circumstance spirited Casper away, just like all my ghosts. ox

Words

When words lay down
the way I want them
they feel like lovers
sounding off in syllables
caressing the page
leading me on
rhythmic as mirth
soothing, whimsical and pert

Monday, December 28, 2009

Fleece and Velour - a short story

I was at a nightclub, the band was loud and some guy walked over to me and started a conversation. We began talking about fabrics, in particular, how fleece is made from recycled plastics, and the soft feel of velour.

We had not been talking long, when he looked at me and asked, “Are you a whore?”

I thought, what a jerk and in disgust, made a fist and slugged him in his upper chest, just hard enough to knock him back a step. He grumbled something, turned and walked away.

Several days later, I told the story about the creepy guy to my siblings. After listening, my brother asked, “Are you sure he didn’t ask, “Are you wearing velour?”

I wonder?

City girls are tough.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Status

This poem is about every person I ever loved.



Michelle, Michelle
lives so well, like a queen upon a throne.
Why try too hard to get real close?
The Queen is busy, you'll get your dose.
She's dispensing fairies to subjects unknown,
like the court jester whose mind is blown.
The jester only wants to make her happy,
smiles knowingly observed as sappy.
Wandering, wondering, questioning fate,
at least that's something at any rate.
What's the point, you want to know,
questioning this odd one as belligerent foe?
Do not give up; please stay near,
consider coming 'round for beer.
This gentle fool is not psychotic,
just full of shit and a bit neurotic.

Amuse

No one knows me
the way you do
You are my muse
an answer to reason
a vision, a conquest
a reachable star
a thought to behold
to step out for, to let be
What I do for muse
will be for me

Tumbling

A tumbling rock
in the sea
pushed by surf
onto the shore
pounded by waves
reduced to sand
mutable
insignificant and small

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The Person You Are

Why not be the person who fascinates?
the person who loves
Be the person who accepts
Who does
Who was
Who is
Who does
Compulsion
Obsession
Of love
grief
Of passion
Of gratitude
Of, who does!
You are

Poetic Nightmare

Most people who love me
dislike me
I'm not too lovable
but
most people like me

Blue Eyes



Looking out from blue eyes
Blew my cover
Blew my cover
Looking into blue eyes

the season

weed flowers wither
the birds fly off
squirrels store nuts
critters suck air and shit
the season does unto the prairie

I am a weed
willing to fly away
may wither trying
the rest is involuntary
the season does unto me

lies still

to the edge
pushed by light
lifted aft
thrust forward
crisp to shine
brushed smoke
creepy angles
game over
pulsating gardens
empty urns
crafted promise
lies still

no horseplay

like a wild, old filly
you corralled my heart
and broke me
now you won't ride me
no sugar lumps
no carrots, no horseplay
as if led to pasture
awaiting transport
to the glue factory

Gravity

As though our love
is lost in space
I'll forever look
to the stars
with
you in my heart

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Beach Head

Fireside, under a starry night
Superior waves pounding
I waive my resistance on the shore
staying on in silence, offering patience
Listening to the natural sound of truth
your no flows over my beachhead
washing cool obsessions

Silence



As silence measures time
the flowers bloom
Nature never relaxes
Earth whirls through space as matter
while gravity plays the keeper
Humans mingle and mash
desiring every comfort
Rescue me from struggled debate
heeding need and want
Contradictions balance truth, of
timeless thoughts quietly stirring

He Is

He is
brawn and brains
ruggedly handsome
a non-smoker
never married
no children
or pets

With an easy laugh
and calm demeanor
he playfully joined me
on the swing set
at the beach
and into my bed

He drank his coffee black

When he read my poems
each one out loud
one line at a time
he either giggled
or looked at me
with a raised eyebrow
as if to ask
"What the fuck does that mean?"

Surely was a case of
love at first sight
for a man with no name
I liked everything he did
except the last thing
He left

Questions

I asked my
friend who is
always questioning
do you even care
he has a full beard
and a nice ass?
Tonight, did you see
the shiny moon
hanging low
over tomorrow?

I asked myself
if you get so many
email that you delete
them automatically
did you get my
message at all?
Did you see
the shiny moon willing
to balance today?

My friend asked
did you know
you are an idiot?
Won't the shiny moon
rise again?
Isn't today the day
before tomorrow?
Why the fuck do you
bother with yesterday?

Dear Jenny a short story

About five years ago, on a warm summer night, I was on a mission to ride my bicycle downtown, get drunk on scotch and dance the night away. I typically only drink beer, but on occasion, like hard liquor.

I had a wonderful time. People were friendly to the single girl and I danced my share with some beautiful strangers.

Four or five beers is no big deal for me to consume, especially while dancing, but three or four scotches, is a different buzz all together.

I decided I needed to pay my tab and split! I unlocked my bike and started along the painted bike path that ran down the middle of a very busy Hennepin Avenue, sharing the road with buses, cabs and cops. That stretch was just over a mile long. The next mile or so passed under the freeway, along the Sculpture Garden and the indoor ice rink, then under more freeway, to reach the bike path.

The whole time I told myself to hang on, keep peddling, stay alert. I was fucking hammered.

Ahh, I made it to the bike path. No more traffic, just the quiet of the park. I rode another mile and then fell asleep and rode off the path, coming to rest in the three foot high field grass. I didn't crash land, it was all in slow motion.

I don't know if I laid there 20 minutes or two hours? I do know it was dark, the stars were out and every fucking mosquito in the ditch was probing my body. I remember reaching for my Deet spray.

A man on a bike stopped to see if I was okay and offered to call the cops! ahh, No thank you! I was conscious enough to tell him I was fine, that I was "working on a field study." He seemed to accept that nonsense and rode off.

I lifted my bike off the prairie floor and put the chain back on. I rode the last few miles home without further peril.

After sleeping it off, I realized what I did and collected my thoughts. I proudly declared mission accomplished. I rode, I drank, I danced, had great fun, and I did not get raped, robbed, stabbed, killed, or arrested! I still had my wallet and jewelry and my glasses never left my face.

The only thing missing was my eyeglass case with my shades. shit. So I peddled back and found it. It was so easy to see where I left the path. The patch of flattened grass looked like a deer had slept there. Yes, it was dear Jenny.

Bear






He shot a bear
while his chest was bare.
Bare flesh, bear flesh,
dead on the ground.

Lisa

Walking ahead
I felt
the concussion
between my
shoulder blades
from a
deep belch
blasted as
an involuntary
explosion from
my sister.

Hedonist

 

I part my legs
to touch your absence
The emptiness
between energy and bent knees
A lying sybarite left musing
I am You
I am here, pleasing myself

Wonder

  

          

           Stares are looks of wonder
           Stairs take you higher
           Stares of you on the stairs
           Feeling high with wonder

Light

      Hey Light,
      
      How to thank you?

      Your words landed
      as a printed shield
      folded in my pocket
      when darkness came.

Night Moon











Thunder rumbles near distant
blue Moon rising in Aquarius
the night moon watches
other signs relax

The View

Expand the view
pictured in your mind
Sunshine warms the wind
crossing me with you
Tread lightly
over fields of flowers
dancing to nature's song
Aye, eye lovers with wine
and time to linger

Cake

It happened to me
in a bar on my birthday,
alone in Santa Cruz.

I sat elbows rested, humming,
looking into my beer.
Day dreaming, imbibing,

wiggling for more.
Shifting, playing, laughing out loud
to imperious mind fuck!

Sweet rock 'n roll music
lured my head somewhere,
my heart relaxed, playful and older.

Hand Held

They look 42, my hands.
Just the back side though,
the palm side is soft
like your head.
I hold you differently now,
the adventure has begun.
For the back of my hands, yes.
Their journey feels the sun
and surf and rules,
as the soft side grips reality,
firmly with gentle desire.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Short Robber Story

Here's a true Jenny story:


This happened five years ago, on a Friday, Thanksgiving weekend, and I planned that night, to close the bar and enjoy a leisurely walk the two miles home.

On my way home from the bar, I crossed Hennepin Avenue onto the Lagoon Parkway, buttoned my pea coat and as I pulled out my headset, heard a woman scream.

I stopped, listened and heard more than one voice, a bit of a ruckus, so I moved quickly to investigate the matter.

A young couple (21) who had left the same bar, arrived to their car to find a man-thief inside, dismantling the electronics. He had already removed other belongings and was back in the car for a second effort.

By the time I was next to them, the robber was out of the car. The couple told me what was going on and as the bad guy turned to flee, I grabbed him, pulled him toward me, kicked his feet out from under him and he went down, with me on top! And I sat on him until the cops arrived.

I sat on his chest as he tried to wiggle free and stab me with his screwdriver. The young man held his feet, while his girlfriend called the cops on her cell phone.

As we wrestled with this guy, the young man started punching the thief. Well shit. I cussed out them both out and bore down on the robber. I advised them both to calm down. I advised the girlfriend to call the cops again, because they were nowhere in sight!

Finally, after several more minutes, I had a tap on my shoulder and the cop said, "We'll take over now." I asked what took so long? Apparently, the young woman didn't know where she was when she called the first time, so the cops were behind the bar a block away. They found no trouble there so they didn't react further until the second call.

The cop told me they knew the guy and had tried to catch him for a long time.

The kids were shook up. Since it was their first visit Uptown, they were horrified to return. I told them, I've lived here all my life and never experienced anything like it before, that they should give it another try. The young woman said sobbing, "Well, if there are people like you around, then okay." I laughed at her and suggested she not count on that! I advised they lock their valuables in the trunk or leave them home. (Fucking common sense goes a long way some days! ha)

The couple then gave me a lift home. I was drunk and a little wore out! The whole thing sort of fucked up my nice plan to walk home. As I left the car, I grabbed a handful of broken glass I was sitting on from the rear window, so I would know later that morning, that what I thought happened, did.

A couple days later a detective left me a message, wanting to know if/what I saw. She said, "Thank you for taking the time to help." I left her a message that I didn't see the robbery, adding that I hoped I didn't sit on an innocent man. I stated I heard a woman scream and went to her aid. And, I would do it again.

I never heard another word about it.

cool, huh!?

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Over Beer

Hi there
me here
knowing you
a little
wishing to
learn more
of how
the world
spins anyway
as gravity
keeps us
strangely dear

My loose
mind bends
every way
keenly drawn
in awe
of possibilities
that reach
beyond where
we allow
to touch
our lips
over beer

Make Me

Steal my heart of steel
melt it at the foundry
Bring jugs made from lust
seen through imagery
Make me drink from myself
Now you
Press your lips to my edge
and drink

Biker Bar

Smiles hugging leather bodies,
ignoring placid interlude.
Who leers at merriment?
Boobs and buns drink
sunshine's perfect height for sunglasses.
Latitude of benches reach
higher than asphalt dancers.
Beer listing to the music and sky,
winds rip it write.
Grooving alone in a crowd
with guitars inconsequential lovers,
holding only strangers
in the dark without the moon.
Drunken, romantic autonomy
leaves lips never kissed,
an onus of the gong for departure.

Push

Watercolor can be linear
without drawing a line
Push the color to borders

Poetry can be linear
without drawing a line
Push the words beyond borders

Sex can be linear
without drawing a line, too
Just push

By Then

By then all your dreams
Will have turned to sugar
To light of darkness
Gooey and sweet
When images jumble
As bouncing perceptions
Of angst filled wishes
For lust to reveal
The rapid sensations
Allowed to flourish
In restful, lapsing slumber

orange fruit

Orange
fruit
filled
with
juice
slice
it
open
squeeze
it
loose

Engaging





Engaging are your golden brown eyes,
the color of lions and tiger lilies
and grains of sand through an hourglass
turned over again making time,
inviting another look.

Two Poems

Ode To Hot Flashes

oh hot flashes
oh heaters
I'm surprised every time
you heat me up
and make me sweat
and make me cold
and throw off my concentration
and cause my friend to wonder
about her turn


Hysterectomy

on my way
eliminated fuss
bleeds no more
minus her uterus

ulterior motive

hidden by
casual fog
the sun
looked like
a peach
bright, fleshy
ready to
set over
melted moons
fresh moments
of pleasure
leisurely gazing
upon ripened
skin. hanging
low, tipping
falling on
tomorrow. humid
lush visions
coloring abstractions
riding, listing
as the
glow over
waters' reflections
clamber for
another view
timed to
reach faces
of sunflowers

Sleep

Winds of desire blow
Light of day into dreams

Caress whispers flowing
To a lapse in reality

Lay bare beside hands
That cradles the pen

For songs push sailors
To the edge of the map

Follow no drumming, stump
Freedom for secular fancy

There stands a survivor
Still struggling to survive

Wind

The gusty wind blows
bringing change and fresh air
You are like the wind to me
I would like to hold you
and let you blow me around

Lick

I have life licked
and wait for it
to lick me back

Dressed

Your attention
wove a thread
of dignity in me,
resulting in a pattern
of poetic fabric.
You'd rather not wear
this onerous cloak?
In the mirror
you don't see a model?
Ahh, consider the high fashion
of integrity in the material
inspired by you,
don a smile.

Swill

you're here with me
to swill a few and talk about whatever
    a thoughtful day
an evening with salubrious you

Sensible Shoes

Picture my hands
slipping into your waters

holding the world
by a boat sailing clear

floating free inside tomorrow
The edge is wet

Slippery creatures ride the sea
bobbing to see your wake

to catch you
in a net of jaws

Another stormy voyage
my lighthouse guides your landing

tucked in a waterbed
with sweets, lyric and wine

Picture my hands
if I ruled the world

Webbed gloves scull sureness
like sensible shoes pushing bicycle pedals