A Very Short Story Of My Life or Yours

I think of all the women who ever gave birth.
I think of my own mother.

"A woman is her Mother" Sylvia Plath

My birth date is also my Mother's
The day she gave birth
Thank you Mom. I love you

I was born on this date
Eventually, I learned to walk, swim and ride a bicycle
Then I went to school for many years
I met a lot of people along the way

As you came along, I wanted more

you are life

Purpose

What is our purpose?

...to amuse and be amused
to be kind, loving and free in thought
to bring peace to a stranger and familiar alike
to work, play and create.

Yes? I think so.

Writer

A writer thinks about writing and writes

Sometimes a writer, she writes in her tights

Sometimes she wears nothing at all

sometimes she writes relaxed in the hall

A writer thinks about writing and writes

about news, events and all peoples' rights

With over six billion people living on Earth

I'll think of the words that rhyme with girth

A writer thinks about writing and writes

The wind blows through the long winter nights

Your arms around me, what can we do?

Remember your name and write about You

For You

I miss my mom
you as well
in different ways
Sweets, you live
Maybe in our next life
we will return
you as the tree, me as the nut?
Standing tall, deeply rooted
Your strength holds many branches
Either I will be picked for use
or dry up and blow away naturally
Naturally in this life, altered by friendship
deep in the woods
longing for hard winds

Oh-Oh

I keep your message
in my wallet, holding it near
I did edit the spelling
and a few words, but none
of the punctuation or energy
When things get dull
I read it again and fly away

SHADOWS

I see shadows
over my shoes
from old news
Essence lingers
If you must be gone
return free
like a butterfly
in that poem
Light anew to trust
casting raw color
o'dulcet mystique

Book

I sat outside the library
reading a book
purchased across the street
City noise surrounds me
People and motors moving in synch
to keep from bumping together
The wind mixes chirping birds
and a crazy guy yelling at the sky
Watching, listening, learning
I am commotion too

Contact

Contact
   
Sweet energy of friendship
pressed between wax paper
as a flower sustained
desiring preservation
I could use the word love
careful not to be trite or cavalier
freedom in choice
freedom in trust
peace in knowing we may meet again

Kept On Ice

Putting off the inevitable, leaving for home
land of 10,000 frozen lakes and hearts
let's stay on this park bench
at the edge of the sea, watching the people
watch the surfers watch for the next ride

Another wave rolls in
crashing against your judgement
I wait to look into my eyes with yours
to see what we both need to know
your mouth forms into a question on my face
then disappointment in our hearts
I bring out the worst in you

Cool breeze over my neck
the sunshine warms my hair
only music drowns out the growl of the sea
nothing alters your sound in my head
my heart remains open
I put my arms around you to hold me
to say good bye

A short Love Story

"And I look forward to nurturing a friendship with you, lovely Jenny."

"Listen to me, because this is the LAST time I will ever acknowledge your existence.... "

When pleasure turns to angst, You win and we both lose.

You'll never again

know a girl like me

That's what I wanted to say

I was instantly attracted

and never let go

She was gone, and

the music played on

like dandelions strung together

Long Ago a short story

A long time ago I was in love with Clarke and Alberto, with Kelly, Mike and Patrick. Where did they all go? One moved East and designed a world class sail for the ship that won the America's Cup. One followed his wanderlust back to his native Cuba. One met adventure rescuing humans and one died from a serious jolt of electricity. And the last one? I don't know.

What happened to me? All of them.

Trapped a short story

I have a mouse in my car.
The evidence
is shredded aluminum foil
from a sandwich wrapper
I threw on the floor.
She told me to set a trap.
The thought of killing the critter
disturbs me. She said I can do it.

She was long ago desensitized
to such adventures, living among mountain lion,
bear, skunk and mice.
Between traps and cats,
her mouse patrol has command.
She said, "One time a mouse was caught
by his foot, left dragging the trap around."
She emptied the trap outside
then watched the mouse go in circles
before disappearing into the brush.

I have a city mouse.
It travels around town with me.
I have not seen the mouse.
What if I do while driving?
Will I scream and crash?
What if it dies in the trap?
What if it is caught and does not die?
Do I go to the full service gas station
to have it removed? Do I ask the attendant
to check my fluids and the trap?
My life is so stupid.
Still, I better get a trap.

Before the RNC Came to Town a short story

Months before the RNC descended upon the Twin Cities, the local news reported all the might of both public and private militias would be in force and ready for the political convention. The story further noted, the local police are well trained and remain on high alert for anti-GOP/GWB elements.

The county Sheriff pulled in behind me as I drove forward from a stop, through the last green light in town. He tailed me for ten miles, then turned on his red lights and pulled me over.

The only vehicle in front of me drove 50 mph in a 55 mph zone the whole way. I followed at a safe distance, minding the mandatory, painted dots from a state highway project that happened to be on that stretch of highway.

At the nearest edge of the next town, he pulled me over, and a lengthy parade of cars passed by, each gawking, no. leering at me with disgust. Like it was my fucking fault the van in front of me was traveling at 50 mph or that a cop was following me. They all could see I had done nothing wrong, for ten fucking miles.

The Sheriff told me he stopped me due to the signs in my rear window and the crack in my windshield. I said, “I can remove the signs, but the windshield is another matter.” He asked for my license and proof of insurance, which I cooperatively provided.

He asked about the crack across the bottom of my windshield and I explained the window frame will not support a new window because of aging body rust on my 20 year old car (which, has since been retired).

He asked where I was going and I answered, “Home from my Dad’s.”

Then he leaned in closer and asked, “What is with those rocks?” I pulled out the first palm sized stone, with a painted picture of a whale, from the coin cubby and showed it to him, explaining it was a gift. I put it back and picked up the other one, which was just a rock, exclaiming, “I found this one; I collect heart shaped rocks!”

His face was inches from mine as he looked into my eyes. Considering I was sober, all he got was a breath of ham and scallop potatoes. Fucker. After deciding I wasn’t a terrible menace, told me to stay in my car as he headed back to his cruiser.

My homemade car signs were taped to the inside of my rear window. One sign read IMPEACH and the other, INDICT. And in between, was a W with the word WRONG underneath. I intentionally put them along the bottom of the window so they would be out of my rear mirror view.

The Sheriff returned, handed back my credentials, and told me to, “Remove the signs and do something about your windshield.” I asked if I should remove the signs now or could it wait until I arrived home? He said it could wait until I was home. Then I asked, “Can it wait until after the election?” He said, “No!” as he chuckled, walked away and let me go.

The Cheesecake is Missing a short story

Along my travels, I stopped into a seaside cafe in a town east of Seattle.  The candles and flowers on the table and the soft music created a cozy feel to the place.

Though they served beer and wine tableside, the food was self serve buffet.  Once I realized that, I rose to serve myself.  At the end of the line, I helped myself to the remaining piece of cheesecake on the dessert tray, then returned to my table.

The meal was fine, I took my time and thought about the day and the next one and about eating that delicious cheesecake.  I noticed the waiter appear at an adjacent table with a tray, offering choices for dessert to another customer.  "We have cherry pie, and apple pie, and chocolate cake and oh!," she paused, "The cheesecake is missing."

The server turned to me, gave a concerned look, removed the cheesecake from the table and said, "Honey, let me bring you a fresh piece."

Apparently, the beer, wine and dessert are served tableside.

My Bicycle a love poem

My longest relationship
ever admitted to
is with my bicycle Schwinn
I sit upon its face
and glide 
balanced in delight
peddling
around glistening lakes
through neighborhood parks
along asphalt paths 
so fast
breathing hard
An alluring escapade
the wheels are trued
true to my bicycle I ride

WORDS a Jenny poem and a short story

The allure of the social media site known as Twitter, is an open format, which allows the user to express ones thoughts without censor. Oh Twittermachine, you give and take. I'm impressed! I've been on Twitter long enough to have many followers that amuse and entertain me. Some of which find me amusing in return. And fuck, some I simply piss off and they let me have it. Over time, I collected a list of such meaningful words used in reply to my twitter posts (tweets). This ever growing list, to a certain degree, inspired this blog. My favorite word on this list is 'baffling', shared by a twat on Twitter.

Words  a Jenny poem

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

The list: Amusing, awesome, baffling, bat-shit fucking crazy, charming, charmingly weird,  crazy, creative, creepy, cunt, deep, delightful, disturbing, doll, fascinating, flirt, fucker, Fucktard, fun, funny, hilarious, honey, idiot, incorrigible, incredible, insane, intriguing, lovely, lover, lunatic, naughty, nefarious, nerd, nut job, psycho, queer, rascal, sexy, silly, smart, steely, sweet, sweetie, twat, weird, wild, witty and wonderful...

 

I am both a lover and a wrecker. I can live with that.

And then, Anonymous noted...

Wow, I found this website via a friend on Twitter. I did a read back of your posts and think you might have forgotten a few words.

"Man hater"
"Exaggerator" 
"Attention Whore"
"Child"
"Fucked up"

I'm pretty certain you will find a positive spin to put on this because you are "In denial" and "delusional"


As we like to post on Twitter: LMFAO

Beer Purchase a short story

I carried my beer purchase to the counter and greeted the cashier, "Hola."  He replied in Spanish, which I didn't understand and I said, "I don't speak Spanish."  He just looked at me and rang up my tab.  "No really, I know a few words, but I'm not fluent."  I kept babbling, "How are you, bien?"  He said, "Bien" and explained that it was the same reply in Italian.  I said, "Mui bien, gracias" using the few words I thought I knew.  As I signed my ticket I mumbled on, "Cerveza, por favor, then after I have a few of these I ask, "El banyo, por favor?"  He grunted a little, glaring at me.

He handed me the receipt, still with a straight face and I said, "Grasias. Adios!"  He said, "Adios."  I said, "Adios muchachos."  He finally chuckled as I walked out the door.

No, I cannot spell in Spanish either.  But I thought the encounter was amusing.

Translation:

Hello
Fine
Very fine, thank you
Beer please
Bathroom please
Thank you
Good bye
Good bye, man