Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Brothertime


Stretched out on the grass
looking up at the stars,
hands tucked behind their heads,
feet crossed at the ankles, bellies full--
fat for the sacrifice
of what lurks, stalks them
in the dark: werewolves, zombies, orcs . . .

While dragons skitter-fly by
on iridescent wings
they craft stories
from far away worlds
to see which of them
can scare the others most.

A fir wood fire crackles in the pit.
Marshmallow bits stick to their lips.

Can I have your room when you move out?”

Laughing, with brave faces,
their eyes in firelight reflect the wonder
of what it will be like to be the first to leave,
be the ones left behind.

A large spark darts skyward
splitting unspoken thoughts
and they turn back to stories of goblins, of ghosts,
on this warm night in brothertime,
shaking off the growing chill
of jitters a bit more real.



© 2015 Jennifer Wagner


For dVerse Poetics: Brothers/Brotherhood. Hope you come and join in the fun!

Monday, February 2, 2015

he forgot the (r) in togethe(r)


i didn't point it out
actually, i didn't even notice
but that's how love is,
                                               too


© 2015 Jennifer Wagner


Poem © 2014 Andrew Romero
Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

My eldest son wrote this concrete poem and put it on the door of my room last Mother's Day (on wide strips of tape, not right on the door itself, ha). I have yet to take it down because, well, why take it down? And it is the month of love!

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Grandma, Mickey and Me




“It forks in and out a little like the tongue   
Of that frightened garter snake we caught   
At Cloverfield, you and me, Jenny   
So long ago.”  -- To the Muse, JAMES WRIGHT


Grandma killed many snakes
in her yard by the tavern
when she had to.

She could do anything
and she wasn’t afraid
of anything.
Or maybe she was
afraid of everything
and she’d just done
what she’d had to do.

She wore a cowgirl hat
with a feather roach clip
and earrings with sayings on them
like, “No” and “Well, maybe.”
She wore tight animal print pants,
read The National Enquirer
and swore the pig-boy was real.

Her little trailer sat
just off the road
and we would stay the night
with her when we were young
and play board and card games
and watch TV.

She would sneak over to the
tavern and bring us special treats
like fried tater tots
with ham and cheese inside.

I’d get to sleep
with Grandma
in her “big” bed
and my cousin would sleep
on the couch in front of her old TV,
the bust of JFK,
and her framed photo
of the son she never got to see.

During the day
we’d go off to explore,
especially the train tracks
where we’d imagine hobos
hitching rides.

She’d told me,
“the bees are out,
thicker than molasses.”
And to “be careful. 
Just be still
when they come near you.”

And I was,
except when
my cousin distracted me
by making me laugh
and I swatted my arm
and got my first bee sting.

It hurt
like H-E-DOUBLE-HOCKEY-STICKS
but I knew Grandma
could take care of it.

We wove our way back
to Grandma’s where she
plucked a leaf from her
aloe vera plant and squeezed
some of the gel out onto the sting.
It was better than new.
She could do anything, like I said.

Pig-boy might have even been real.
You never know.


© 2014 Jennifer Wagner



A couple of days ago Grace presented us with the work of James Wright.  She said we can use a “line of verse as a jumping board” and to “feel free to explore where your muse takes you.”  My poem isn’t the same subject as the one of Wright’s that I springboarded from, but it’s where my muse lead.  I think I went autobiographical because of Wright’s simple family roots and of course, “Jenny.”

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Amanda Marie


We line pebbles
on the path,
one
for each day,
and hope for more.

Our eyes rove
the swish of leaves
in the verdant lushness
of treetops,

the bright snaps
of daisies,

the flitting burst
of butterflies
that land soft on our arms
and legs
and flip-flopped toes,

the swell
of the ocean,
dolphin-dipped
with joy.

We watch
the sky burn pink
when night falls
and the stars begin to dance;

and contemplate
how all this reminds us
of how love’s branches budded
to bring us your smile.

Maybe tonight
Gavin and Cassidy and Sawyer
will dream
of their mother’s eyes,

Derik, her voice at his ear,

and Susan
of her little girl
so brave, so strong.

Something like
God’s lovenotes
dropped
even when
we’re not looking.

And what we thought
were scattered pebbles
lost in this life’s storm

are picked up
and churned with God’s tears
and our own,

placed in His bottle
these new-polished pebbles
are jewels
close to His heart,
treasured and unforgotten,

until we see
your smile bright again
and are
together

Home.



“You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book.”  Psalm 56:8 NLT



© 2014 Jennifer Wagner



Behind the poem:  a few days ago my sister asked me if I could write a poem for her sister-in-law’s daughter, Amanda, who had been a given a prognosis of two weeks to live, as a special gift to her family.  She survived leukemia as a young child and had more recently been diagnosed with cancer again.  Yesterday she passed away.  She was 31 and has three children who are 8, 6, and 4 years old.  This poem is for her, for them, the man she shared her life with, her faith-filled mom, and all her family and friends who love her and wait for the day they will be together again.  With love and prayers for comfort and peace. ~ Jen

Saturday, May 10, 2014

no matter how you spell it...

photo © 2014 jennifer wagner


if i could
i would

break off
a piece
of the sun

to give
to you


© 2014 Jennifer Wagner


Happy Mother’s Day to all the mother’s hearts out there!



© 2014 chalk sketch by me and my 6 year old.  He loves his familywe’ll keep working on the spellingsmiles