February 14-20, 2005: Jennifer VanBuren and Michael Pacholski

Jennifer VanBuren and Michael Pacholski

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Bio (auto)

Jennifer lives with her husband in Baltimore where she works for a non-profit agency while raising two young sons While her formal training and career experience have been based in science and education, her passion has always resided within art and writing To see her publications and more poetry and photography, check out her site:
http://home.comcast.net/~mannequinenvy/ (accepting submissions)

The following work is Copyright © 2005, and owned by Jennifer VanBuren and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Eel skin bound set out, propped up by reputation he discovers onion skin eyelids filter more when open wide, pupil slit narrows and tongue flicks the air for a taste of pressurized jasmine that sends the signal move along, there is nothing worth biting here and certainly, it is a well known fact, verse bound in eel skin stands more of a chance of being fondled by lady fingers that linger over perpendicular lines, upright and leather tight straight to reptilian brain and she says, to thick skin a bite is as good as a kiss better his finger holds his place across translucent skin stretched over the hollow of her back as he pages through her latest verse tattooed on the inside For hours upon For hours upon river weeds we tread, knowing below our feet lie sunken answers to what might have beens that stare up, hollow faced while their blackened fingernails claw our soles Twice we watch tendrils wrap our legs as they dangle drunk with fermented seduction We will their dissolve, test the strength of our acceptance this is all there is One more breath before submersion, we count bubbles, and follow the last ones into delirious consent. beyond naked To be the one, the fearless, she who swears love upon love trials over decision, no other To be free of chain mail vest and glove; to stand not only naked but inside out- out in love Love lies waiting for invitation, to be told, you are worth the risk Such safe sleeping, the monsters sniff sleeping fingers and know, this is not the night for terror This is the night of confession, to fall backwards without doubt strong arms will catch and cushion Trust is the wires that levitate, love holds pulleys and ropes Suspended weightless fearless, knowing you are my best poetry, my best lines of holding and being held.

Why You Should Name This Poem The Way You Do .important information caution extra-strength Instructions For Reading name this poem after your first pet .and the street you lived on when you were six You can You can .you can steal and make your own your own whatever-you-want out of anything left behind from junkyard to high rise you can steal it all away .because you have a name so give this a name for thunder .or soft and silent roses steal that idea say about the naming of porn stars transform it to beauty uplift it the way you swab a scrape a diamond or a sink or a blade you can name it another way but label it .if you bestow a name upon it your own name, a city name, a map name a favorite color an imaginary star a flower you will shape mouth and body (I am named Michael, and now I am here) you will give it a mouth and a hilltop and if you listen .its first soft stammers will unwind into whispers and its whispers will inflate to full-lunged calls and equations and declarations will stream and sail from the hilltops and its talk will grow to blossom into a lone sturdy tree within a grove a stillness against strong winds with a lone swing a place to sit in its garden a place from which to exhale everything it can Blue In Green .The first full notes won’t resound at all unless you coax a dance from the ivories that can .hold the trumpet steady in a casual sway, like champagne newlyweds on a balcony letting wisps of fog float between them.