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Allan Jensen

 

Richmond, CA 94804
United States


With thanks to the TRIPOD group: WELCOME TO SEAMLESS WEB The homepage for those interested in creating web sites. I specialize in helping College and Universitiy Student Employment Offices put their programs on the web. My services include consulting and helping you determine what should be on your web site, if it should be "interactive", That is more than just providing "information" to your clientele (students & employers). I can also consult with you to find the best service providers to help build your web site at the most attractive price and quality. My web site is also for poets and for those whose muse may not have moved the words to paper (or other media, like, the Net), and for other voyuers of good wordsmithing. This homepage is also for Anyone who lives in California (or don't but wish they did), rollerbladers, sailors (including net-surfers) or other similar rapscallions who practice alternative (but legal, moral, non-fat) activities and want to share them on the Net. MARBLEHEAD REMEMBERS was my first (self published) book of poetry. From time-to-time I'd like to share my work from that book as well as some unpublished poems or other commentary. Remember, all of these ARE copywritten, so may not be published in whole or part without my permission. However I do accept critique. Just send me an email note at allanjensen@attbi.com. I also manage rental units in the Marina Bay area of Richmond, California. If you would like to live in a beautiful marine environment, touch bases with me. I know where all the good rentals (and a few for sale) units are.


THOUGHTS OF THE DAY (or week, or month, or until I remember to update):

The "Ancient Ritual Trilogy is the most recent addition to my site. Let me know how you like it

  • ANCIENT RITUAL TRILOGY

    by Allan L. Jensen

    1996

    I.THE RITUAL

    I saw you

    In Eastern horizon

    There in the canopy

    Of stars, a sun arising.

    Long before the world

    Behind awoke,

    You bade adieu to

    Orion, who spoke

    In ancient ritual.

    Your rising ever pale,

    Pushing, lifting

    Blue midnight veil.

    Until it too succumbed

    To your silent dowry.

    Thus I awoke,

    Pyrite hair to pillow me.

    I saw you

    Awake. Unspoken

    We touched and gathered in

    The miles as if mere token.

    The waves of pillowed tresses

    Slowly warmed to greater hue

    Streaked and lit

    Golden by refracted cloudy dew.

    The alabaster tone of

    Languid form

    Took shape in your embrace

    And soothed my angry storm.

    II. OUR PLACE

    The things of beauty are so few

    But constantly there,

    Always, and you

    Whether in sleep or wake.

    The mountain ridge,

    The Bristlecone and Pinon pine.

    Only my sight, my feel (ing)

    Makes it first mine.

    Then yours

    Then ours

    Then infinite.

    You are the beauty,

    La Pinon

    Whose seed bursts forth

    When together we keep, your convention.

    Induced by compression of time

    And distance. Then

    At once you are here. All around

    Are but shadows

    And voices, indistinct

    Beats and footsteps of vapors.

    Serving only

    To bring you closer,

    Closer. They, further away.

    Until between us is only

    Our vanity. The rest,

    Locked out.

    My friend, my love, at once

    You are here, I there

    The place is ours alone

    To keep.

    III. SHADOWS

    Western mountain’s

    Back-lit shadow

    Is in feeble race

    Toward on-rushing

    Dark side (of the) earth’s rotation.

    Clouds, but a momentary

    Lovers flame in

    Not so much sunset,

    As inexorable

    Recapture by the

    Shadow world.

    Darkness rises in the East and

    Chases retreating occidental light.

    My fire illumines only a

    Fearful face against

    The rapscallions of approaching night.

    Sleep, gentle sleep, my only

    Bulwark here.

    Shut out dancing shadows until

    You again appear

    In my dreams.

    You are my dreams.

    My only holy light

    Who lifts the midnight veil

    And gently lays beside me

  • Melding dreams that now prevail.


  • This next was accepted for publication in the "National Library of Poetry"

    MY LOVE AWAKENS

    In the morning hours
    When your face is
    Washed with dawn’s
    First tiny sliver,
    My love awakens.

    I watch your features
    Resolve from shadowed
    Pillow creases, from
    My vantage of waking
    Some time before.
    I pleasure in the quiet
    Lust of this morning
    Voyeurism, and
    My love awakens.

    Gentle breaths and eyelashes
    Flutter in dreaming.
    A sigh, a moan, a turn
    Tells me that soon
    My love awakens.

    This got a lot of good critque on "POETRY-W". This is the revised work.

    IN FIRE'S LIGHT
    by Allan Jensen

    In fire's light, with wine
    Your eyes belie
    A gentle presence.

    Notes from my guitar
    Fill darkened corners
    Softening your essence.

    Your smile belies
    Reservation, loosely guarded
    By convention.

    Come share in you and i,
    For the moment's worth
    Is surely finite

    And will be lost,
    Perhaps not regained
    Save in our memory

    And may not come again
    For you
    Or me.

    Copywrite 1980

    This one is also published in the National Library of Poetry

    NIGHT, THEATER OF YOUR DREAMS

    As day travels into dusk
    And dusk turns toward midnight hour
    Eyes close as weary-weighted gravity
    Lowers ego to id,
    Consciousness to unconsciousness.

    Sleep.
    And bring unto all
    Night's theater of dreams.
    Where convention dissolves
    And freedom falls
    Where it may.

    Dream of me love
    From night’s fall to dawn.
    Let evening’s sweet scent be mine
    And the soft rustling of your nakedness abed
    Remind and signal my arrival
    In sleep’s unfettered visions

    Until, and only when
    Your Dreams condense
    And you resolve to save but one moment
    For tomorrow's dream come true,
    You'll awaken.

    Allan Jensen

    Hours fall upon hours, Day upon day.

    Slowly they come

    And are quickly away,

    Without you.

    Dreams become real,

    And slowly our day is approaching.

    Meanwhile, only night

    Tranquilizes and keeps these

    Uneasy hours at bay.

    Until, dawn awakens

    Yet another counting of hours.

     

    Comes sunlight

    Blue-white, and warming

    Or misty rain,

    Soft muffler of gray.

     

    In either,

    I love you,

    In trackless sand,

    On the Vineyard-head.

    For I've been there before

    And will be again,

    With you.

     

    Take my hand, beside me

    Stand before the winds and storm

    Whither they blow

    They end,

    Turning to buttermilk sky, back lit

    By sun, then moonlight's fainter glow.

    And wend we our way

    Remembering,

    Through fields of heather, seaside,

    Inland

    Together we go

    Together we stay,

    Together,

    Remembering together.

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    IN MY OPINION (Sites I visit often)

    Tripod
    The Riley Guide (use the net to find a job)
    My Office's Homepage
    Liszt (find discussion groups)
    USA Citylink (find lots of web stuff here)
    The Poetry Garden
    Poetic Future Express
    The Rhyming Dicionary
    RareForm (My eldest Daughter's Rock Band)


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