"The Flow," a poem by Jess Coffman

A summer leaf calls to me, 
Falling...
Right before brushing the meager creek's head,
A satisfying illusion!
She becomes a yellow Butterfly!
Flitting up into abundant beauty,
Flirting with my inspiration.

The slightest breeze, fills my lungs,
carrying delicate messages of acceptance and validation.
In this moment,
I know.
I am exactly where I am meant to be.

Kindred Oaks,
loom in abiding mercy.
Their tender leaves
twinkle a dainty "hello."
My tender heart, speedily beats a "hello," right back.

The merry, unwary Butterfly bounces,
Uninhibited.
In all of her boundless
freedom,
Stretching and Flapping
and Soaring.

Yet choosing to stay,
Musing away,
in her beautiful creek home.
Gracing every wild mint,
mossy rock,
and rejoicing bird,
with Her Elegance.
She exists in that Oneness World of...
The Flow.
She thrives within it.

Climbing higher with exuberance.
Then Gliding, Sweeping and
Riding the breeze, in her
natural state of Joy.

Neither food, nor sex nor compliment,
could transport me into
The Flow
like I am in this moment,
with this boundless Butterfly,
and steady Sun on my back.

A smile is wide, in my Being.
And I'm Full.
Fulfilled like before,
When I was first invited into,
and dazzled by the majesty of
The Flow

Time stops.
I am beholding, adoringly,
the steadfast,
yet precarious and exhilarating wait,
for the next breathless moment.

I am for now,
simply an Observer of
The Flow
Though, some unknown and glorious day,
I will join it.
I will Be.
I will know...
The meditations of the wise rocks,
The romances between the leaves and the winds,
The secrets in the heart of the inspirited
Yellow Butterfly.
This will Be.
I will Be.

JESS COFFMAN

"Shadow," a poem by Jess Coffman

Long ago love...
how you still wound.
I have forgiven you,
but the pain of my
wasted youth remains.
Which,
does not allow me
to take a chance on anything,
that reveals even a sliver, of a shadow
of you.

I was unseen in those days.
silent and of little worth,
except for my wild outbursts
and bare skin.

His syllables,
legato loose tongue.
His ability to soil a sacred cloth
'round my waist.
Somehow the bitterness of you
has vanished,
You no longer leave
distaste.
But a warning lingers,
like a familiar scent, 
I can't place.
Dissimilarities trick me.
vanishing faith.

Again, my words hold no weight,
They could come and go of my lips.
I would be nothing of value,
If I were just a head, with no hips.

All is a well, All is a well.

It seems I've learned again.
My role as an open woman,
In the game of selfish men.

I'll play alone from now on,
It's always better when I do.
My arms open to the masses,
Without just one man to belong to.

If I gave myself to the whole world...
My Treasure, an equally traded gift.
My Soul a sacred space,
Never neglected or split.
My Feelings, always discreet,
would never be disregarded.
My Love a golden arrow,
Buried safe, could never be discarded.

Maybe then, I'd be truly contented,
Loving all, and never one.
I'd pray to the moon, amid smokey star shine.
Or bathe in the breath of a naked sun.

JESS COFFMAN

"Fire Breather," a poem by Jess Coffman

Her obsession with fire,
The warmth and the wet.
Heating Desire, a killing threat.
Whispering rains, Know the Truth.
Nature calls out,
She slips from the booth.

Her smile is weary, a tipsy calm.
The bullshit weakens, and can't go on.
Softer focus and mounting debt,
Knows no future...
Catching breath.

Heart on fire, hiding place,
Reaching up for Holy embrace,
Voices laugh, connecting with ease,
While she silently begs on her knees.

Enwrapped in rapture,
A wicked device,
Exposing frailty, confusing the nice.
All is well,
But she's loosing worth.
a spirit plays,
a spirit's birth.

In solitary confinement,
The melody cascades,
In solitary alignment,
Her memory fades.

She's safe from her sins,
In isolated well,
Closer to Heaven,
Closer to Hell.

This is life,
Lonely among Bliss.
Still, in the darkness,
a Quiet kiss.

Deep Expansion,
To soothe and protect,
No longer fearing,
Darkness deflect.

A Soul of devotion to
His Guiding Light,
An offering to all
on this raining night.

Green starts spinning
in frozen chest,
It melts the disgrace,
of the 'unwanted guest.'

A beat in her blood,
Moves her legs in the deep,
She rushes and springs,
No longer asleep.

In risky escape,
She dances her song,
The uncertainty grows,
And the courage to move on.
Tormented and hating,
And ashamed to say,
She loved him again another day.

JESS COFFMAN

"Prayer For A Runner," a poem by Jess Coffman

Be the Wind under his heels,
Protect him from fallibility.
Be the Strength in his bones,
Bless him with agility. 

Keep the beat of his heart,
Undoubting his ability,
Boost the strength of his Will,
In the test of his Humility. 

With every step on His trail,
Enliven his virility.
With every step of his Soul,
Deepen his Malleability.

Be the push in his gut,
A Surge in his motility.
Be the Faith in his Breath,
The Mindfulness of his mobility. 

Unite him deeply with Himself,
One with Nature's fragility.
But with wings on his feet,
Beckon him to Your Tranquility.

JESS COFFMAN

I wrote "Prayer For A Runner," the morning after I had completed a 15-mile run, as part of my marathon training, for my very first marathon! I had just gotten off of the phone with my friend, who is running the marathon with me, but training in a faraway city. We discussed how I had been completely exhausted and "hangry," after my run, and how I was completely dead to the world afterward. It took me about 3-4 hours to return a phone call or communicate with anyone. I needed to relax, and be alone in order to recuperate my body and revive my will. 

So the morning that I wrote this, I had just finished encouraging and boosting my friend before his 15 mile run for the week. I began to pray for him to have a safe and successful run, and the words began to come out in rhymes. I feel lucky when that happens, because then I'm inspired to create a piece, and be mindful for such a longer amount of time about my subject of prayer. I was able to uphold my friend with positive and creative energy while writing the poem, and now the piece, will forever honor our hard work, in preparation for this marathon.

Later that day when I went to the L.A. County Museum of Art, to see the Picasso and Diego Rivera exhibit, I was surprised that this recreated plaster left foot was on display. The original which Picasso captured on paper with charcoal and Conte crayon, was possibly Greek and was sculpted in 400-100 BCE. I was grateful that it serendipitously was the perfect image to accompany "Prayer For A Runner." 

Prayers, Will and the Open Trail, 

Your Jess

"Bare," a poem by Jess Coffman

Heaven to their eyes,

Rosè on their lips,

Sand on her thighs,

Possibility drips.

Hawks circle skyward,

as Sun cascades.

Sailboats glide, 

While dreams marinade.

Breasts brave bare,

Water lilies sing, 

Smiles coax the lovers,

on the breeze of Spring.

Hung high in hammocks,

warm bodies pressed,

On the mouths of lovers, 

Emotions undress. 

'No Expectations,' breathe

every choice.

Words of the heart,

Ring from the voice.

'No Hesitation,' excites presence, 

Bliss. 

Words of Loving,

dissolve in Present kiss. 

Lap up the earth,

Salt's ebb and flow.

Ocean’s majesty,

Her uncensured show. 

Two souls ignite, 

in simultaneous spark.

While Trees of Life, watch,

in Heaven’s park. 

Enormous elegance, 

A red escape.

Honor is endowed,

to the seaward scape.

Trust falls heavy, 

In capable hands,

The Bridge of Dreams burdened,

by dreamer’s demands. 

Man strides on in careless blaze,

While Woman writes of lovers maze. 

The cycle goes, in upward climb.

Beats of Golden, 

Hands of time.

Humbly asks the ready heart,

Humming for a purer start. 

Orange poppies, burst and bloom,

Forging life through rocky room. 

The woman releases the man ahead,

The present, leaves the past for dead. 

Hiding sun and heart prepared,

Free to Love, 

No longer ensnared.

Reverent excitement, 

to Sparkle Sea,

Sighs the deepest part of she. 

Eyes expand,

as Light breathes in,

Awaken the Spirit,

The future begins.

Holding in silence,

the tightest embrace,

Arms pinned sideward, 

Expressionless face. 

Love imbues body,

Contentment is her bones.

No longer searching outside, 

For a stronger sense of Home. 

JESS COFFMAN