"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

"Wonderlove," a poem by Jess Coffman

I fell in love. 

I fell in love with you because you give me 100% of yourself and more. 

You make me feel my heart inside of my body, 
and my blood pumping through my veins. 

I was inside a dark cave fighting my self critic, 

my wholeness being chipped away. 

broken and drained. 

Losing my light, feeling worthless. 

I didn’t know where I fit in as a person anymore, as an artist. 

I had forgotten the love. 

But you sat with me and my bucket of tears, 
and helped me gather myself. 

You simply asked me to BE and breathe, in community.  

And I felt appreciated for the first time. 

You taught me that the challenge is the way,

That life is magical, and people really do believe in dreams. 

And I wanted what you had.

You do what you love, with people you love, in community, 
To move forward positivity.

And that has made me lit up as fuck. 

And I am refined by that fire. 

You have rejuvenated me, with the challenge 
to step out of my comfort zone, 

for the joyful and hopeful possibility of feeling new again. 

I wouldn’t have had the courage to listen to myself without you. 

But now my heart and my gut guides me. 

You have transformed my life.

My soul feels realigned and I can recieve and chill. 

I can celebrate myself now,

with the perspective shift to focus my gifts, to serve my community. 

And the best part is…the glue, that holds us together, is light. 

And we get to be a light together.

And we get to feel like home.

Our threads of light have converged, 
and now you are rooted in my heart.

You are hard-wired into my happiness and my history. 

And we get to feel like family. 

I want you to know that I’m your number one fan. 

If you ever feel not enough, I will uplift you.

I will be your beautiful support. 

Even if we are half a world away, 
I will do what I can to brighten you.

To remind you that what you do is phenomenal. 

To remind you that everyday the universe folds to take you 
where you are supposed to be. 

But, that living is about connection. 

Truly living is about the experience and not the outcome. 

I will remind you that you have everything you need, 
and time doesn’t matter.

The uphill climb often leads to the awakening. 

So onward we climb, 
because we have to inspire and enlighten people’s lives.  

We are here to create wonders.

JESS COFFMAN

"Wonderlove," was inspired by the words of amazing people working for Transcendence Theatre Company's first ever spring concert, Best of Broadway. I was incredibly inspired by my cast and this entire experience. The words of this poem were weaved together, from the answers that the cast, and members of the company gave to the following questions, "Why did you wake up this morning?" and "Why are you excited to work for Transcendence?" From their beautiful and wise responses I wrote "Wonderlove," and I am honored and blessed by these words and these exceptional human beings.  

Thank-you for enlivening me.

Beauty, Broadway and Our Best,

Your Jess

"Ships" a poem by Jess Coffman

I'm holding you in the quiet,
Under candlelight and raindrops.
Each flicker of light, entices each
flicker of darkness.

But the darkness is a damp silence,
And the light slips through my fingers,
like slick wet hair.

Hundreds of miles apart,
My heart is with yours.
Lying emerald,
snuggled in the nest we made.

I can feel your longing,
It awakens mine in the night.
My body is still, except for my heart
which pounds, as if it might skip
All the way to you.

But there is a hollowness
Like a grand basin within me.
And a lowest voice,
circles in my gut,
chanting cautionary, round resistance.

I envision that grand basin
filling with tumultuous waters,
and I see myself on a ship, sailing away from you.
hair soaked and whipping, holding on
for dearest life.

I claw the hair away from my face,
Just as I see you turn your back on the shore,
And walk heavily away from my muted,
screams.

(My next awareness...)
My eyes open to sunshine and the
sound of seagulls.
A scent of pineapple makes my
mouth water.
The storm has passed, in my
slumber.
And I wake up thinking of you.

I stand sunken in sand,
Squinting in the unforgiving morning
light.
My heart jumps up to my throat,
as I believe that I see your ruddy
whirled hair, on a far off shore.

But as I always do,
My heart seeks what my eyes
don't see,
And my mind fills in the rest.

My gut, stronger and bolder now,
sends a tightening,
a tiny explosion up to my heart,
and my arms go weak.

Some other spirit, is directing my body now.
My palms gesture an offering to the sea,
and with a heavy sigh of sadness and resolve,
a feeling like a great wind rushes through me,
and I let you go.

But after the moment is fully felt and passed,
I drop a message in a bottle,
into the dark blue for you.
It sings of my love,
my ache,
my greatest hope for my life,
and yours.

As it floats,
I watch with hopeful anxiety as it
bobs side to side,
Up and down,
in and out of sight within the waves.
I hope it will reach you one day,
and all will be revealed.
The disease, healed to ease.

But by then you might love another,
and I will be a few distant
memories, that have since lost all
emotion.

And it will be okay.

I regain feeling in my arms,
and wrap myself in them.
Then I turn my back on the shore,
And walk heavily away.
Into the sunshine forest
and scent of pineapples.

JESS COFFMAN

Ships, Sadness and Emerald Hearts,

Your Jess

I fell in love with these ships at one of my favorite places on Earth, The Getty Museum in Los Angeles. These ships are only small parts of the entire paintings, I just happened to be most interested in the them, so I chose to photograph them exclusively. Both paintings were created by French painter Claude-Joseph Vernet. The first is called "A Storm on a Mediterranean Coast," painted in 1767. The second painting is called "A Calm at a Mediterranean Port," painted in 1770. They are depicting the same general area, though in contrasting weather, scenarios and perspectives.

I took these photographs well before I wrote "Ships," but as I was looking through my photographs for appropriate images to accompany this poem, these really resonated with me, as metaphors for my own internal climate over the last 6 months. I am grateful to now feel as though I am in the calm. 

But I believe that I had to experience the full affects of the storm, 

to fully grasp how valuable the calm is. 

"Daughters," a poem by Jess Coffman

women dance on raining night

in hometown dreams 

we never thought we’d have

women dancing

unlike girls

with graying hair 

and wrinkles from smiles

playing songs 

that enter souls,

confirming pieces are

closer to whole

women loving 

in early eves

recalling memories

of wild yore

now calm and sweet

in our hearts to keep,

twinkling hearth

of beginnings

ready to start

women scorned,

and women of peace.

youthful insecurites

ready to cease 

forever

hands that stretch to reach 

our depths 

and mouths that speak

unbitter words.

and never will we be

in moments of now again,

but we’ll cherish with greatest hope

our nows until our end.

stairs that lead to nowhere

and everywhere unknown.

But a serenity shadows our belonging,

like a cloak in the storm.

Happy knowing,

of smallest and largest degree

persuading 

the purest part of me. 

Happy women,

with burning flame,

swinging in the year 

letting time slip through again. 

Decision looms,

in flowering ring

worn by beauty 

as we joyfully sing.

Commitments prove

loves deepest intention 

of two lives, 

divine invention.

women bloom in feline discourse

feeling no need 

for feminine remorse. 

We are, 

We be

no obligation to any 

We live by our seas

and wade in our waters,

the exhilarating ripples

the honor of daughters. 

JESS COFFMAN

I wrote "Daughters," on a night that I also slid down the stairs in the splits. 

I wasn't drunk, though Angie, Regan and I had enjoyed some healthy portions of red wine and sweet potato/kale/chicken tacos, that I had made for dinner. 

I was simply happy and silly as hell. We all were. We enjoyed the fuck out of being ladies, who were not in the presence of men. We talked about things that would have made most men feel uncomfortable. We ate and drank the amounts that we wanted. We played Jewel songs on guitar, and didn't worry if it was good or not. We danced in front of the Christmas tree and listened to Stevie Nicks wail, as the rain poured outside. And...I eventually did some sassy stair dancing that ended with me sliding down the stairs in the splits...backward. The whole night was an absolutely beautiful experience. 

When we finally started to wind down around 9:45pm, which we were completely aware was ridiculously early, I got very inspired to write about what I was feeling. Here we were, 1 engaged woman, 1 single woman, and a woman somewhere in between, who were celebrating our womanhood and friendship in a townhouse, across from the place where we all met, when we were 13. Almost 20 years later, we were celebrating Christmas together and each of our new beginnings. The night was perfectly surreal. It was one of those experiences where you pause for a moment and say to yourself, "Wow, I never saw this coming." And you smile to yourself, when you realize that that statement is meant truly in the best way possible. Thank-you my lovely women friends, for your open hearts, support, space, understanding, silliness, honestly, strength and love. I am honored by you. 

Sirens, Stevie and Santa,  

Your Jess