Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

The pizza delivery guy

drives the pizza to my house.

I tip him,

though he had nothing to do

with making it.

And I’m sure he keeps it all

for himself.

Next year I’m writing to the elves.

Signed,

New Perspective

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

For Words Count with Mama Zen at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.  The challenge:  A 50 words or less letter to the big guy.

Slave (The Calling of Manumit)

One lung full while the other

constricts,                      

shrivels,

crushed beneath this weight

I can’t think, can’t  resist,

weakened

by the purchase of screws

I held myself down for

and bled my tears

listening to the

sweet sound

of mourning doves.

I have forgotten You

and I confess

sometimes I think You are gone,

abandoned me

for greener fields

of those more faithful.

But You say I am Your temple—

chained as I am to memory,

so please keep holding out keys

to this puzzle of wings

I am putting together

to fly away from ghostly apparitions

that visit me in my dreams.

They kiss me on the forehead

and keep me from the tiny living temples

that matter at all to me.

Serpent of haunting,

you’ve bitten, but you are crushed,

and I, while breathing in a whisper from the moon

through windows

streaming enlightened threads

in reflection of daylight,

in the back of my mind

I hear it

in each pump of blood

from my heart

I know

I know

I was meant to be free.

 

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

I'll be linking this to Poets United Poetry Pantry

Forest

chestnut-backed chickadee

on the hemlock branch

chatters my arrival

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

for haiku my heart friday at recuerda mi corazon

Hollow

deep in the wintergreens

of twilight

it grows

 where birds of song

vacate homes in season’s passing,

gathering shadows of keeping;

 and berries, frozen—

are bejeweling 

the trampled floor

of the forest wide and deep

 of her glacial heart

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Poets United: The Poetry Pantry

Frost

a dusting of diamonds

sparkling on evergreens

winter’s oracle

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

haiku my heart

In Winter's Sights

she placed snowshoes on the mountain,

a shine to the lips of heaven

in a musical crunching of white

with peek-a-boo pine cones and twigs

it was in moments like this she felt it,

breathed it

when douglas firs and lodgepole pines

held a shimmering of frost

and a barn owl’s low hoot

gave her a sense of mulled cider

when the fire is just right

and so is the world

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

Offerings:  The Poetry Pantry and dVerse

Interview at Poets United

I've had the honor of being interviewed by the talented Sherry of Poets United for the Life of a Poet Series.  If you would like to read it, go here:  Life of a Poet - Jennifer Wagner.  Thanks Sherry, I was truly surprised and honored to be featured!

Firegold

dusk

is a notion

of half-closed lids

in yellow flicks

of candlelight

against your bluegreen eyes

where

despite or because of

that lonely space between us

you pull me into

it

reaching for that tender

part you save for me

until i believe

i am the jewel

upon your hand

you always say i am

and melt like gold

in your palms

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

The Poetry Pantry

Not a Circus Fan

Circus me a frown

clown in neon blue

with stripes

I see in my sleep

Oscillating, like a cyclone

like that time

after too many mango margaritas

in Cabo

Heave-ho

pirate clown

black and white

and stubbly beard

I hope he won’t hug me

scratches, Patches

and his scent

like bourbon on Santa’s breath

Now there’s a clown

asking if “mommy” would like to sit

on his lap too

Watery eyes, seen too many

bottoms

of glasses

And cigar smoke

fingering the suit

I make for

the other end of the sleigh

feeling a bit like sequins and legs

and hope for more

of stale popcorn

and less of

the inexplicable circus peanut

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

For Poetry Jam: Under the Big Top 

Storytellers, Poets, Dreamers

shining, twinkling—

winking morse code

in the cold clear of night

                

peering toward hills

graced by tempered moon

and gathering breaths like visions

in baskets of words

illuminated,

holding gold, like dust—fragments

in upheld palms

releasing them to jump gracefully

spin, twirl like fireflies

climbing in the tenebrosity

and falling like stars 

on shoulders

whispering to hungry ears

a glittering of seasons

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

dVerse OpenLinkNight