I’d surrender all I love
for a taste of you.
My light
for your darkness.
All I have built and cradled in my arms –
let it burn, let it fall –
if I can just free myself
from caring.

Live my days as a creature
of pure desire.
Die when I die, but
while I am alive.
Radiate more than beauty,
more than joy,
send flames of pure passion
bursting from my tossing eyes.

Become a thousand feet tall
and Howl until people pour
from their houses –
lives split down the middle –
the before and after times
of knowing
a woman
can eclipse the moon.

I’d kneel for nothing and
No one,
except for you.
Less than six feet tall,
but still my equal.

You’d come to me,
lay your poetry upon my brow
like a cool, wet cloth,
and I’d be soothed.

If you’d like to hear this as spoken word backed by music, just click below.


37 responses to “Luna

    • Thank you so much. Simple poetry is all I know how to write and, honestly, the only kind I really enjoy. I’m so glad you think the emotions come through clearly.

  1. I’ve been looking forward to reading this since you mentioned it, and you did not disappoint. One of my favourite romantic poets is Coleridge, and he was so meticulous and careful with his choice of words — the third stanza here is particularly wonderful — lives split down the middle/the before and after times… sometimes these things come naturally, and sometimes people agonize over them, but whatever the case in this instance, you crafted something that drips off the lips like wine.
    Very very well done, darling.

    • Oh, you muse. It was incredibly inspirational to have you asking after Luna while she was napping. It’s rare for me to have anyone genuinely excited for something I’m brewing up, and it was lovely. These words from you are music to my ears – since I admire you and your taste so greatly – *and* you and I have the same favorite lines from this poem.

      This was a case of changing only two words during editing. I worried for days whether I should be changing more, but I didn’t, and now I’m glad. This poured out of me after an incredibly agonizing day of doubting every last one of my life choices (I have some teenager in me still) and I think the truth of that shows through.

      Much love. Thanks for drinking the wine. (But never the Kool-Aid!) I look forward to your next creation that I can lovingly blow kisses at from afar.

  2. The last three lines of this poem are beautiful imagery – so vivid and tangible, yet also mysterious and almost magical. You are a gifted one, indeed.

  3. Jennie, this is really beautiful. I wonder if you might enjoy collaborating on something. I’m currently working with on a project of spoken word w/ music — I’m also something of a musician, and have done something similar with some of my poetry (you can check one out here:
    Of course, I’d suit the music to fit the mood of the poetry.
    I love this poem, and would be very interested in discussing this with you!

    • Hello there! Ummmm, the answer is YES. Mega yes. I watched your spoken word piece and I think the right word would be “enthralled,” so please let me know more! I have no abilities at all when it comes to music, so I pretty much already think you’re a wizard, and this could be magic.

  4. Beautiful, Jennie. You are so gifted. I don’t have a knack for poetry at all (unless it’s silly rhymes), but reading your lines here, I can easily pull up the feelings they evoke.

    • I am all for silly rhymes! You could ask my mother – there was a phase where, for about three years, all she got for Mother’s Day were poems rhyming things like “dishes” and “wishes.” But thank you so much for the feedback – it’s wonderful to know we made a connection.

    • Thank you so much. I appreciate your reading – all the times! And yes, I wrote this a few months ago, but I would have loved to be able to turn a thousand feet tall last Wednesday.

    • Luckily – oh, so luckily, because all I did was make things hard for him – I wound up with someone who’s above and beyond worthy. But the person I was so sure deserved to experience this side of me? I was wrong, wrong, wrong about him.

      I owe a lot to life outsmarting my flawed designs.

  5. Pingback: The Payofff | Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante.·

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    • It has been too long, and it’s entirely my fault! My two college roommates have been home, and I’ve been too busy adventuring to read or write. But! I’m back in action now… and extremely happy to be welcomed back with Ken’s amazing final product.

  7. Pingback: Thank You Jennie! | Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante.·

  8. Ahhh and you write poetry, too. If there are to be more poems, perhaps I should ask whether you’d at some point be interested in guest Barding for me. Though I might move the site to wordpress first, as it’s rather a cul-de-sac at the moment 🙂

    Really beautifully done. I especially enjoyed the cosiness of the last part.

      • Well, marvellous 😀 Thank you. I shall consider upping the ante on my blog moves, just so I can snag you as a guest 😀

        (my best friend in the world and I used to have flash-poetry stand-offs in college, when we were 17)

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  10. Laurie stole my comment! That was the line I loved. I LOVED! So true-simple and powerful. The reading was the best. The writing is exquisite but the reading…brought it to life. Very, very well done! Bravo!

    • Thank you so much! That reading took hours… happy hours of laughing at myself while trying to smooth my little-girl voice into the sultry hum I wanted. 🙂

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