Haiku Chocolate

lunchtime, snow falls

as we leave the restaurant,

i put my arm through yours

and catch a flake on my tongue

the rich scent of smoking salmon

is carried on the cold, salt air,

as if it were on the ashes

of long-ago village fires

dotting the shore behind us

just a few blocks up from the landing,

and a stroll through the courtyard

past northwest carvings of

lighthouses, natives—

to the red cup café and the perfect cup—

and on to mukilteo chocolate co. for dessert

you pull the door open, and i say

“what do you think i should i get?”

you smile—suggestive,

“you can get whatever you want”

over the counter the owner

overhears, teases— “that’s dangerous

to tell a woman in a chocolate shop”

a seated man hears, too “…or smart”

he’s right, we all laugh—together,

strangers in a shared moment

“well, i have to get the haiku”

dark chocolate, ginger,

hint of wasabi, candied ginger on top—

“i just made triple wasabi,

it’s in the back, i can get you some…”

“no thanks, i’ll go easy and try this first”

we select some amazing flavors,

sip coffee, look out at the view of the sound,

savoring them, and each other

and all the little things that become

the best kind of poetry

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Claudia at dVerse has us writing sketchbook poetry.  As she puts it, “poetry that captures a scene — poetry that is immediate and in the moment.”  With my husband’s schedule and the kids off at school we get to take dates midweek, midday sometimes.  It snowed briefly as we left one of our favorite places on Tuesday and it seemed the perfect moment to capture on paper.  And yes, Haiku Chocolate Truffle is delicious!

Sexploitica

I cue moonlight,

light tealights,

trail petals

to my heart,

but you,

pornblind and hooked,

don’t even know

where to start.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Pornography addiction, especially via the internet, is a relationship killer.  If you or someone you know is struggling, there is help.  Lots of resources out there, Celebrate Recovery and Pure Desire among them.

XII: The Beaufort Wind Force Scale

oh, you know it’s real.  my neighbor’s window. 

photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Twelve basic hues

in the color wheel.

Twelve steps

in recovery.

Twelve inches

in a foot.

Twelve people

on the moon.

Twelve baskets

of fragments.

Twelve days

of Christmas.

Twelve tribes.

Twelve disciples.

Twelve months.

A dozen.

And it’s also

the maximum

wind speed

of a hurricane,

again!

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Seahawks and the power of the 12th man win Super Bowl XLVIII!  Check it out:  12th Night: Number Featured in Win.

Estuary

Conifers and

salmon,

seagrass and

shellfish—

where fresh

meets salt,

where the tide

meets the river

in a cocktail

of creation;

a symphony,

if you will,

of the Conductor’s hand

who sets the tempo

and shapes the Sound

I live in.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

For Poetry Jam:  Where You’re At.  Peggy has asked us to write about where we live.  I live in Puget Sound, a beautiful estuary region in Washington State.

Fourteen

Like a classic car,

or old school stuff

that never goes out of style,

like when people say, in admiration,

“they just don’t make ‘em like that anymore”

you

make me grin

and say to myself,

yes, they do.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

An instant classic.   

I know, I know, spoken like a Mom.  But what can I say?  I adore the kid.  He celebrated his 14th birthday this weekend.  

Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Osprey

Osprey

Image found in the Public Domain

Osprey is hungry—

had the niner,

tattooed and tough,

but that meal wasn’t enough.

So, says he,

it’s off to New York,

feels like I could eat a horse.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Ok, so I am having a bit of fun.  The Seahawks beat the 49ers for the NFC Championship and are going to Superbowl XLVIII to face the Broncos!  The seahawk is another name for the bird of prey the osprey.

Old Otalgia

Compassion’s earache

sits on the tattered couch

worn thin by visitors

who came to get

and seldom returned to give.

Compassion’s earache

sips Pepto-Bismol

straight from the bottle,

waiting for someone

to take her out

for a real drink,

or at least make

her some chamomile,

pop in a DVD,

and rub her feet

once in a while.

Compassion’s earache

has thick-skinned,

broad shoulders

even when we are

too blind to see them droop,

too thin-skinned to care,

and too deaf to hear her

when she calls for us to listen too.

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

I’m back from a little blog-sabbatical and it’s OpenLinkNight at dVerse!

Sky's Advent (a Fibonacci poem)

Stars

fill

and spill

the black orchid

night streaked silken with shimmering,

all flickering in remembrance of one so small.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For dVerse Poetics and the Poetry Pantry

What Flavor are Your Snowflakes?

Remember when

snowflakes

came in our favorite flavors—

running to catch them

on our tongues,

delighted smiles

on our faces?

Mine’s peppermint!

Mmm…Grandma’s peanut brittle!

I got egg nog!

Cinnamon!

Catching them in our hands,

licking the

dark chocolate-orange,

licorice,

sugar plum

flakes

drifting

and catching in hollows

where mittens

dipped

and

lifted

and

savored

in the perfect snow globe

of our imaginations.

Do you think we’re meant to

carry those wishes

with us

as we grow?

And as we grow,

that they should grow too?

Imagine—

clean water

filling hollows,

a fresh well

for life.

But that’s my flavor,

what’s in your snow globe?

For Poetry Jam:  Magic of Childhood.

2.5 billion people in the world do not have access to adequate sanitation.  That’s one in three of the world's population.  Poor water/sanitation/hygiene is the second leading cause of death in children under the age of 5 in the world, sub-Saharan Africa being the top affected region.

Statistics and information:

World Vision

Water.org

Charity: Water

Water Aid

I can’t personally vouch for any of these organizations/charities as far as donations and outcome.  I’m doing research myself for our family to get involved.  Here’s to impacting our world with our dreams.  Happy Holidays!

Bloom & Float

Art by CatrinWelz-Stein

Let’s put our thinking caps on;

we can come up with something—

I’ve always longed for a way to fly.

Somehow I knew

if we picked enough weeds,

cleared enough fallow ground,

we’d bloom and float.

It’s true,

dreams can happen

when another thing dies—

like saying goodbye

is hello to something new

in another tongue.

We just have to remember

to hold on

in the dark

where we’ll finally find—ourselves

above the clouds, among the stars.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

A couple of months ago Claudia at dVerse offered us the opportunity to write to the fascinating and inspiring artwork of Catrin Welz-Stein.  I wrote this piece but had never posted it (it was my son’s birthday and a busy time).  So I’ll be submitting it for OpenLinkNight!