Ivan Jenson – Six Poems

IVAN_FINAL-1Ivan Jenson is a fine artist, novelist and contemporary poet. His artwork was featured in Art in America, Art News, and Interview Magazine and has sold at auction at Christie’s. Ivan was commissioned by Absolut Vodka to make a painting titled “Absolut Jenson” for the brand’s national ad campaign. His Absolut paintings are in the collection of the Spiritmusuem, the museum of spirits in Stockholm, Sweden.  Jenson’s painting of the “Marlboro Man” was collected by the Philip Morris corporation. Ivan was commissioned to paint the final portrait of the late Malcolm Forbes.  Ivan has written two novels, Dead Artist and Seeing Soriah, both of which illustrate the creative and often dramatic lives of artists.  Jenson’s poetry is widely published (with over 450 poems published in the US, UK and Europe) in a variety of literary media. A book of Ivan Jenson’s poetry was recently published by Hen House Press titled Media Child and Other Poems, which can be acquired on Amazon. Two new novels by Ivan Jenson entitled, Marketing Mia and Erotic Rights will be published hardcover and will be available for purchase at bookstores worldwide.  Ivan Jenson’s website is: www.IvanJenson.com

_____________________________

A Leg Up

as an individual
who lives
within
a public persona
as a
shower
soul singer
trapped
in the body
of a bad
dancer
as a spokesman
for a generation
that has already
spoken for
itself
as an elder statesman
who still harbors
juvenile
justifications
for the unjust
gesticulations
of gentile
gentrification
which only
generates
a higher cost
for general
admission
to this movie
theater
I want you to know
I acknowledge your
right to taunt
the hell out of me
by putting your feet
up on the seat
next to mine
but allow you this
impolite
indiscretion
due to
your
gender
selection
and the
pink polish
on your
ten
tenacious
toes

_____________________________

Flowery Language 

tonight
we get
numerological
astrological
far flung
and farfetched
and we will
believe in
old and young
wives tales
and we will
speak in
the french
tongues of
channelers
who channel
surf the
cosmetic
cosmos
of each other’s
complexion
tomorrow
we will
come to
our senseless
sentimental
selves
and
beg
each other’s
pardon
yet forever
promise
a rose garden
_____________________________

Sorry Individual 

as a novelist
I apologize for
lifting our
conversations
verbatim and
strategically
placing them in
quicksilver plots
spoken by
sunny
or shady
characters
as a poet
forgive me
for making you
naked to
the world
of deep navel
gazing divers
and as
a painter
excuse me
for exhibiting
your full frontal
frailties
in the gallery
of public
opinion
and as
a man
I ask that
you see
me only
as that spark
in the dark
which is
my only
true art
_____________________________

Acquaintance Forgotten 

I am piecing together
a string of thoughts
made of featherweight
implications and
free-floating flattery
which flutter like
your eyelashes
or the flicker
of the outdoor
candlelight
and it occurs
to me that nothing
significant has occurred
which would
call for rejoicing or
a celebratory
urban tribal dance
to eighties’ music
and there is nothing
here to remember
cherish or regret
we simply chatted
and learned we have
only liquor, August
and evening
mosquito bites
in common
and tonight
we certainly
won’t
scratch
each-other’s
itch
_____________________________

A Decent Proposal 

Come with me
on a far from
breathtaking
adventure
for a lifetime
which will consist
of little victories
and faint fanfare
from a few friends
and our only travels
will be from the fluorescent
shores of Walmart
over a few speed bumps
to join forces
with the frugal soldiers
of the Salvation Army
who like us,
are bargain hunters
even though
the only
battle I will
fight for you
will be
from my
beer-bellied bulge
and the only
protection I can
provide will be
the bark
of our small
dog
dear
let’s hide
together
here
in my suburban
submarine
which each
day sinks
like my heart
if you don’t
take me up
on my
cheapskate
chivalry

_____________________________

A Roast of a Toast

I am standing up
in ovation
for all those
who have been
knighted by
the evening light
with wine in hand
they glow and gloat
and lay out their
best laid plans
which come to
fruition
since they
can afford
the tuition
to the Ivy league
of ladies
and gentleman
callers
ahead for
reservations
to four course
seasons of
seasoned
sensations
and they are
always seated
front row and
center for
the theater
of the superb
and though
the cream
of the American
dream rises
to the top
someday
even
the gravy train
has to come
to a halt
and we all
gotta do
the mashed potato

 

 

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