Untitled (written 8/30/2008)

 Untitled

Death is sleeping gently

Outside the window

Holding vigil with us

As the baby tosses and turns

Tangled up in fate

Some mornings rays shine in clean and clear

Other mornings the light dims

Mottled and blurred by nose prints

Left from her watchfulness

She sits patiently

Holding her post

As threads

Wind and weave

When they pull apart

Like spider webs brushed by a shoulder

She opens her old, strong arms

To catch and soothe the spirits as they

Stumble

Lost without a body

Some mornings

I nod to her and carry on about my business

Other mornings

I press my face to the window

Peer out

Eyes squinting

With equal parts

Malice and gratitude

If his ties begin to bind and cut

Torturing

I will rap on the window

Call to her and

Nod

I hope that day will never come

But now I know her

I felt her fingers on my shoulder that night

And was oddly comforted to know

We are not alone

Parchment (Written 3/14/22)

 Parchment

Yesterday a “guess your age app” pegged me at 61.

I’m 44.

I felt a brief, familiar cloud

Pass across my spirit

The mist of misogyny

Spritzing

As it does

And just behind the cumulus

Was the voice of a thousand crones

Reminding me that faces

Are nothing more than parchment

On which stories etch themselves

10,000 moments of joy

Have creased my eyes

Nearly to my hairline

Deepened the dreaded

“Parentheses”

Into a double rainbow

A warning of my easy laugh

The ripples across my forehead

Reflect years of expressive listening

Of goofing and performing

Silly and glittering on a burlesque stage

My freckles tell tales of

Summer camps and Hawaiian vacations

Of my Welsh blood

Striving to belong in sunny California

The furrows between my eyes

Document the sleepless hours

Spent in an ICU

And years watching the rise and fall of my son’s chest

Afterwards

The thought has crossed my mind

To fill, to freeze, to stretch

To wipe clean the slate

But the crone call is louder

Reminding me

Age is a luxury

An honor

A gift

And my face a badge

To be worn proudly

And so I will laugh and frown and twist my face into pretzels for a laugh

I will let the call of life

Drown out the siren

Warning of my impending obsolescence

Because I know the truth

My face reflects my heart

My trials and my roots

This punim is a gift to the world

Just as it is

- Jaime Jenett (c) 2020

Relentless (written 4/20/21)

 Written last night after hearing of the murder of Ma’Khia Bryant by police- it happened within minutes of the Chauvin verdict being announced.

Relentless

This country’s appetite

For bent

broken

bleeding

pleading

Black and Brown bodies

Is relentless

Pearly hard enamel

Riot shields

Tyvek vests

Immunity

Hiding rot

Shielding

Broken boys and girls

In suits and boots

Who were lied to

Told they inherited the earth

And given guns and gavels

To stand their ground

Sharp picks

In the aftermath

digging deep

Into tender places

Drawing blood and little mercy

And rarely a just verdict

Arms up

In surrender

In protest

In prayer

To just make it fucking stop

For one day.

And then another.

And another.

Until the legacy

Of our country

Resisting

Fighting

Beating back

White supremacy

Is as long and proud and statued

As the wicked, bloody one

We’ve paid tribute to

For far too long.

-Jaime Jenett

4/20/21