Galaxy

The mother spilled her milk
in our corner of the universe
milk, the sustenance
of babies
of all warm mammals
with heartbeats
and eyes
is it any wonder
that our experience
of creation
is called
the Milky Way

~Jenny

I can’t remember
when these jeans
I am wearing
were new
and the knees
were not torn
and the buckle
didn’t constantly
come undone
and all of the rhinestones
were still in tact
I can’t remember
just like I can’t remember
why I have kept
that fucking
toaster oven
coach
bookcase
dresser
microwave
mattresses
big oozing
sores
that I have carried around
for years
from one place to another
shouting
you don’t deserve more
make due
make due
I should have saved
I should have saved
each dollar
as a testament
to how I feel
about myself
and a love note
to say
you
deserve more
and eventually
the things build
up
and they are not just things
but daily reminders
that I was worth it
I’m not 14 anymore
I’m 35
right on the edge
of becoming an adult
right on the edge
of giving a fuck
about myself
and what I want

~Jenny

Humor Me

I know I'm often all over the place on this blog
but the nice things is....it's MINE--
So today on the way to work I heard the below song.
I used to hear it sung by numerous people
when I used to go Karaoke.
I really never sung, unless I was extremely
drunk, I loved to listen to people sing.
There was the good, the bad and the ugly
about the life I was living.
But Dammit, it was fun at times, very fun.
and free---sitting at the table or at the bar
drinking beers.  Sitting at home, and on a whim
getting a call for some unplanned rabel-rousing.
And I will not lie.  I love a good dive bar every now
and then.  These days it seems to be more occasional
respectable like establishments that are not
closed down by any means, just briefly
visited and usually there is dinner
or some snacks involved.
With all these changes coming,
I feel as though I'm loosing myself
and going to the other end of the scale
the prissy lissy good lady scale.
Sometimes, you gotta fight for who you are
You gotta fight inside and out. With yourself
and those around you, and demand your right
to remain an individual, to pursue your dreams
remember your spunk and your strength
stand up for what you love, and what you hate
who you were, who you are and who you say
you never will become.
So--I like a good dive bar every now and then
and I like my hair just so, and I like some cases
of the Fuck-its---we're all allowed those moments
cause when you set aside the dive bars
and the occasional case of the Fuck-its
and replace them with all households goods, respectable,
starched collar only, do as I say, second guessing
yourself to the point you can't make a decision
for  yourself anymore, that's when the heart attacks come.
That's when tiredness perpetuates and feeds off itself,
and that's when you let your dreams get eaten.
Turn it up.  It's good.
~Jenny

"Jobs for People Who Don't Like People"

This was the title of an article on Yahoo today.
I do not have any of the qualifications for the jobs listed.
Such as computer programmer, accountant etc. However,
I am a writer, and I am an introvert~the article mentions both.
It's nice to know that I'm not a freak though.  This article
brought a lot of comfort.  I don't like to make small talk, usually.
I feel very uncomfortable around groups of people.
It hurts my skin sometimes. Sometimes more than others,
and it becomes unbearable.  And I don't want to pretend
to be a social butterfly, or to posses amazing social graces anymore.
I love my people, that's different.  My people are my family,
my boyfriend/best friend, animals, a couple friends, very few
here and there.  Books, art, music, movies, nature.
The older I get, the more introverted I seem to become.
The less I want to try.  It's nice to know I'm not "alone"
as ironic as that may sound.  That there are others out there
who feel this way too.

~Jenny 

I have the Van Gogh blues
whirling
in swirling colors
in my mind
there is no one
place
where each stroke
ends
and the next begins
the painting
tells a continuous story

and other artists
and writers
visit too
there will be ladies
on the lawn
having tea
there will be women
with umbrella’s
holding a child’s hand
there will be figures
with haunting
mysterious stares

I will not eat the paint
but I will sit
on the bench
in the museum
during my sleeping hours
and just gaze
the pictures
make no sense
they do not speak
they only feel

sometimes
I live
in a yellow house

~Jenny

Casual Conversations

when you come to the end
of the line
I will be there
when I come to the end
of the line
you will be there
with dandelions
in our hair
it all doesn’t make sense
not now
bear fountains
with light up eyes
and smoke
maybe I should have
kept my mouth shut
they don’t understand
doling out snippets
of washed up memories
coming out awkward
and afraid
self analyzing
the bullshit

~Jenny

11/11

It's good that this day
came and went
without me even realizing
what day it was

It's good that this day
came and went
with me going to the doctor
to take care of myself
with me showing up for work
and paying my dues

It's good that this day
came and went
like 17 years ago
faded into oblivion

We are not meant to hold on
to things
but to let go
and live

I'm still standing

~Jenny