Shitless

Fear,
you spiral upward and down
the flip side of my core
and now unleashing you
letting the lid  of Pandora fly,

I find solitude…….

I’m afraid,
of losing drive,
driving out of control,
hitting brick walls,
and completely
losing
focus.

I’m afraid,
of brightest lights,
having no talent,
being pricked
with needles of eyes.

Afraid of falling on ice
in a short skirt,
falling from vertiginous heights,
falling in love.

I am afraid of trusting,
having faith,
of not being caught,
of being held down,
being held back,
and being left out.

I’m afraid of showing my woman,
my child,
and never enough lady.

Afraid of sinking into
and settling for.

I’m afraid
of being disrespected,
disrespectful,
being nice,
being a bitch.

I’m afraid of being ample,
inadequate,
being completely misunderstood,
and never showing enough slip.

I’m afraid of being found out,
exposed heart,
shining my truest alma.

Afraid of average,
every girl,
everyday,
ordinary.

I’m afraid of dark cold water,
walking on the street alone
in the green-tinged hours of morning.

I am afraid of being left
and floating in the
grayest ambiguity
of leaving.

Terrified!
of what ifs,
should haves,
could haves.

I’m afraid
of being led astray,
of straying from my heart,
and turning on my soul.

You ask, “are you ever scared?”
I turn to you,
reply in one breath
one word…shitless.

copyright 2009  Jennifer Brinn

Ibrahim

Where did you get those eyes Senor?
Those pools where mermaids lure angels
to swim.

You sway
with the languid sugarcane fields,
yet stand tall, solid,
like the barnacled sea wall
which keeps Mother Havana from crumbling
into a lost Atlantis.

And where did you find your voice cariño?
Singing of time forgotten,
bathing me like a rum punch sunset
bathes slumping tenements.

Bearing hibiscus at a punctual twilight
your eyes speak solely to your altar for Lazarus
but your song…

¡Ay!… your song,
two-times with Maria
who mambos solo
with a wilted gardenia behind her ear

copyright 1998 Jennifer Brinn

Because You Can

Monsieur Chat, sitting upon the sill
because you can,
because you fit so perfectly
in that small plane of space

No one would ever know how much
you can sprawl
outstretched belly in both directions

Not one person could ever guess
at the lion you are when you
lower yourself deep in the tall
spring grass
patiently waiting for that plump
morsel of field mouse to unwittingly
cross your path
and you pounce because you can.

copyright 2012 Jennifer Brinn