The Shrubbery
August 1999
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This page copyright 1999 The Shrubbery


Jazz Is
Jazz is a dim, smoky room.
Running up a tab. 
Not remembering what was played
But that you dug it.

Jazz is a swanky nightclub.
Dancers swinging by.
Crowded bars and sexy singers
The kids can enjoy.

Jazz is feeling it in your gut.
Rhythm section riding.
Up and down with as you play
Without a word.

Jazz is the legends.
New songs mixed with old.
All for the good feeling
All for the love.

Of Jazz.

by Jessica Brandt


For J*****


You remind me no less of a
Roman statue come to
Life -- your noble profile, your form almost
Symmetry made flesh, as if too
Perfect for this
Realm.

We are formal with each other - we have to be - the
Rules of engagement in our work
Require us to be
Professional. Casual. Never
Breaking down the never acknowledged
Invisible wall.

But oh, how I would simply love to
Bring down that wall, the dare
Defy the codes and rules and simply
Reveal...I barely
Know you, yet I have this great
Pallette of
Emotions for you...
Why must every decision for
Me be one of life or
Death? Even if you were
Partnered, all that would
Result is some
Embarrassment, maybe I would
Hurt awhile, then 
Heal.

My only consolation is that,
For brief moments, I can be with 
You, and enjoy your 
Presence...

...and feel a little
Less like
J. Alfred Prufrock.

by Gordon Dymowski


Fallen Angel of Mine

Slip is what the angel did,
Amongst a fluffy cloud.
Tears are what the angel hid,
Because her fall was loud.
Down is where the angel went,
Sky wanted to subdue,
I knew she was heaven-sent,
My angel eyes of blue.
Then the angel did look down,
And saw the massive Earth,
The angel did begin to frown,
Because she saw her birth.
Scream is what the angel did,
Afraid she’d come to harm;
Surprise is what the angel hid,
As she landed in my arms.
I stared into her bright blue eyes,
I looked into her soul,
They were her personal skies,
Twas then I lost control.
The angel stared into my eyes,
Sapphires in the ash,
God had told me no lies,
Angels to you will dash.
The angel looked at me and said:
“Where am I? I’m in bliss!”
I smiled and gently rubbed her hair,
We gently, sweetly kissed.

And that’s how I met you, my dear,
Love came from what once was fear,
I loved you since that day in May,
Love you I shall till there is no day.

Women wish you they could be,
Your kisses sweet like wine,
But you will forever be,
Fallen angel of mine.

by Carlos Cabrera

Do you have poetry?

Send it on in! It can be romantic, heart-warming, humorous, or epic--we dont care! But if it makes the cut, you'll see it in the next issue of The Shrubbery. E-mail it to submit@theshrubbery.com

Note: The Shrubbery now only prints 5 pieces of poetry per month, so don't feel bad if your stuff doesn't make it. Keep sending!!!

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