Look I am rusty
I am tarnished
I am bent all out of shape
get this
I am scarred, knees skinned,
and fingers calloused
didn’t you know you
can’t teach an old folk singer
new licks
I am a bad dog who
has fallen for his own
“good boy” tricks,
and when I get
out of bed I
bump my head
and roll over
like Beethoven
who couldn’t even
hear his own early morning
bird-chirp symphony
Ivan Jenson, USA
I was blessed
with certain gifts
and cursed
with glaring
omissions
then I was taught
valuable lessons
which never really applied
to challenges I faced
and so I was never
adequately prepared
for what was thrown
at the fan
and found myself
winging it
by the seat of my pants
which made me seem like
a delinquent dilettante
doodling on the forms
that one fills out
to pass the test
get the job
or the license
to drive one’s self
crazy
going in
the daily circles
like an abstract
master of
the postmodern
art of
getting by
Ivan Jenson, USA
She is positive
her negative
view point
has sustained
her soft edge
by tainting
her white
broken down
picket fence
defenses
which would have
kept out
bulldogs
and burglars
yet kept her
living in a bubble
without
bumble bees, bugs
and bullies
and since
she has always
been passed
around like
an open bottle
of discount wine
she sometimes
feels
unsavory
yet still sweet
like battered
butter
something that
melts on
the wonderful
Wonder Bread
sheets of her
lover’s bed
Ivan Jenson, USA
The Social Poet 