Category Archives: Songs and Poems

For My Sister on Her Wedding Day

I want to cite this poem
to stop my mind its roam
because I’m so glad I’m home
to see Kurt marry Kristin on her wedding day

Though the years gone by have flown
It doesn’t feel we’re really grown
(Yet) there are still some things unknown
even by now, on our wedding day

Love is not a rose, a flower
that simply blooms upon the hour
Nor a sudden misty sunshower
that just appears on any given day

As this day is your first as husband and wife
Let’s look at today as the breakfast of life
but first put down the spoon fork and knife
and set it for now on the table linen to lay

Because love is a decision to make
As a fruit is part of a breakfast to take
when harmony and peace are at stake
(on) every moment after your wedding day

The strawberry, a passionate treat
The crabby grapefruit, bittersweet
Or the blueberry, of contention and heat
are just some of your choices to start each day

That innocuous blueberry, like so many things
Can destroy even infallible wedding rings
so pay attention to the way your mood swings
to hold all you promised on your wedding day

That blue little ball proves nobody’s wrong
And even though you both are strong
Bending’s not breaking; keeps you where you belong:
with each other well beyond your wedding day

As you mull over which breakfast to choose
It’s not about making the other one lose
The morning of life should not be who proves
Who was the one to say what since your wedding day

Now you look into each other’s eyes
and see all that is confident and wise
You have already peeled off your disguise
sincerity and trust more established on your wedding day

And here we celebrate that seventh wave
to cherish eternally the words we will save
testimony and celebration are what we gave
all of us, gathered, on Kristin and Kurt’s important day

Love is the wedding gift that you’ll most favor
Let it roll around your taste buds to savor
while the dance of life keeps changing in flavor
as you twist and spin here on out from your wedding day

I remember both my sisters were born on a day
When my dark teenage world turned sunny and gay
I’m so happy and blessed Kurt doesn’t mind me say
I love you to (one) sister on her wedding day



Airport Day


I’m packing my memories

One by one

I guess it’s time

That I must be moving on


The shuttle waits at my curb

The sky is steel gray

Suitcase shuts with a tear

It’s an airport day


Frozen skies refuse to rain

Exacerbating my pain

but my eyes refuse to drain

Have to board the airplane


It’s an airport day


Seven thirty ay em

with no alarm

And last night’s merlot

The combination won’t do me harm


Goodbyes never worth saving

Nor should they be said

Words can be like clouds

I just can’t clear my head


Five long years and waiting still

For that moment that never will

Swallowing such a bitter pill

Refusing to believe it’s real


It’s an airport day

It’s an airport day        © 2009 Jenny Perron   

For the One Who Is Most My Type

Yell at me

You don’t have to try

to be my bully,

and make me cry
Throw your tantrum

Have a fit

It doesn’t matter

With you I’ll sit


Poke me hard

Throw me around

For you I’ll shut up

I promise not to make a sound


It doesn’t matter

With you I fit

I’ll climb my broken ladder

and next to you I’ll sit


As long as there’s plenty

of love to go around

I can live in your shadow

and promise not to make a sound


Dominate my love

With all of you

Roll me over

Split me in two


Feed me your spirit

I’ll stop when I’m full

Steer my love towards you

I’ll let you be the one to pull © 2009 Jenny Perron

The Phallus Poem


A boy and I were hanging out one day

Hopping, skipping, romping at play

When he said to me out of the clear blue sky

He asked me, “could I be so bold as to imply

Without seeming sexist or chauvinist or callous

As to insinuate why you don’t have a phallus?”

“But I do have a phallus,” says I

“It’s just simply of a normal size

Yours is so intrusive, all long and dangly

Not rare, but a biological anomaly

That gets in the way of things you like

Such as taking a jog or riding a bike

You can’t play sports like baseball or foos

Without wearing plastic to prevent getting a bruise

Mine is all nice and neatly tucked away

To take out and play with on a boring rainy day

“But the female scrotum,” he mused, “it’s so hard to find.”

“Well,” I said, “my cousin found HER g-spot, and she is blind!

I don’t mean to argue;” I contended, “I don’t like to conflict.”

He said, “I’m just simply stating, so why must you contradict?”

“I don’t contradict,” I replied, “don’t be so trite.”

When my man and I put ourselves together, we fit just right

                                                                                                            © 2009 Jenny Perron




A place I used to call my home

Some friends were gained and others lost

People I’ve met and more I’ve crossed

Where hopes were born and dreams were sown


From there I borrow, and love I loan

An ode to which I owe this tome

Where seasons died those leaves were tossed

On Rustic Lodge


Rock salted driveways seemed like foam

Shiny people, dull cars, drab chrome

These are things like extra exhaust

Friendship was pain, life was the cost

Faded light is what I now own

On Rustic Lodge                                                            © 2009 Jenny Perron