Sunday, December 15, 2013

Sky's Advent (a Fibonacci poem)

and spill
the black orchid
night streaked silken with shimmering,
all flickering in remembrance of one so small.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Thursday, December 12, 2013

What Flavor are Your Snowflakes?

Remember when
came in our favorite flavors—

running to catch them
on our tongues,
delighted smiles
on our faces?

Mine’s peppermint!
MmmGrandma’s peanut brittle!
I got egg nog!

Catching them in our hands,
licking the

dark chocolate-orange,
sugar plum

and catching in hollows

where mittens

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?


clean water
filling hollows,
a fresh well
for life.

But that’s my flavor,
what’s in your snow globe?

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:

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!

Monday, December 2, 2013

Bloom & Float

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!

Tuesday, November 26, 2013


International District, Seattle WA
Photo © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

she felt just like
the used condom,
amidst the cigarette butts
and partially eaten food.

The refuse
stacked up,
lining the side streets
and back streets
of the insides of her,
piling up
on her chalk outline.

Wasn’t she
what had been done to her?

But the point of no return
to what               
she thought of herself
was the road less traveled,
            a cross in the path—
and the journey upward,
a process
with the things
she has chosen to leave behind;

and that has made all the difference.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

A little bit of a spin off Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken.

Monday, November 18, 2013


a love note/poem from my hubby
via refrigerator magnets
photo © 2013 jennifer wagner

a soft tangerine moon
glows there
where i put my hand over your heart,

feel your breath slow and even
chest rising, falling
            rising, falling

and i can’t catch myself, either—
from drifting off
into the green poem
of us

where you
lift me up to the branches
to catch my footing,

where the
light shines through
its trembling leaves.

i hold them tight,
let the sun play in angled drops
on my face, close my eyes to
feel the favor
of your smile,

and then open them again
to focus
on eden appearing,
in the closing
of the blue distance.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

dVerse OpenLinkNight 

Monday, November 11, 2013

Simply Jesus

your blood blooms still 
© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

When there’s not enough hyssop
to cleanse me of all these flaws—
I think I must live with them,
make slow improvements
with the
tick tick tick
of time’s cruel elements.

I know too well this unruly thing
inside me is me,
but there, too,
is the me that hungers for her first love

somewhere buried beneath
bruising, hardening, scarring
it throbs,
however disjointedly.

I am not a girl of
ritual, rules or religion.
I only know that at fifteen
I just wanted
to hold Your hand.

And now,
beyond church
and the things they add to it all,
and bitter politics
and the things they take away from it all,
and morality,
and all these rules I break—

I stand here today
when did I ever get the idea
You were not enough?

In dark,
in cloud,
in lightless days,
Your blood blooms still.

And I remember
I never needed
anything else anyway.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

1 Corinthians 2:2-5.  And I, brethren, when I came to you, did not come with excellence of speech or of wisdom declaring to you the testimony[a] of God. For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness, in fear, and in much trembling. And my speech and my preaching were not with persuasive words of human[b] wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith should not be in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.

Friday, November 8, 2013

it's about more than winning

photo © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

baseball is about more than just the money

baseball is
a metaphor for life
baseball is
to return home
good for what ails us
an art
baseball is

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For Form for All:  List Poems and the Poetic Heart of Google.  Sam Peralta has us using Googlism to create poetry.  Our instructions were to visit the Googlism site and type in a word of our choosing and craft a list poem from the results.  Fun! 

And for Clint, my 13 year old crazy-for-baseball, grand-slam-hitting kid.  You amaze me and make me so proud!  (Photo:  Desert Fall Classic Tournament 2013— opposing teams taking a knee together).  

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Sea Elf Blooms the Desert

Chihuly’s Fiori di Como 
 cartoonified photo © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Sea elf
took his
raspberry lantern
and journeyed to the desert lands

to look for
new places to play,
new tunes to be hummed,
and friends to be made.

He crafted
his hut
next to
a whispering tree
and blew
his glass bugle
in a mad-fantastic

of starlight
and twilight
and the moon (to make them swoon)

and if you don’t believe me
you should see
the cobalt blue
of never-give-up
sky anemones.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Above is a cartoonified photo I took of Dale Chihuly’s Fiori di Como at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.  Chihuly’s work is amazing and even more inspiring to me is his story of losing an eye in an accident and a few years later injuring his shoulder but continuing on with his glass blowing dream.  Click the highlighted links to see/read more if you’re interested.  Amazing, inspiring, beautiful stuff.

For Claudia’s Poetics-taking a ride on the color wheel at dVerse, which I am too late for so I'll be linking to OpenLinkNight, which I’m a bit late to as well, but hey the doors are still open!

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Snow like Eiderdown

When death comes
you find yourself trying to catch up to it,
to face facts,

like pulling on a winter coat
when the cold has already
bitten you clean through
and all that’s left is
dark acceptance.

You’ve had the denial,
the anger,
the bargaining,
the depression.

Now, you’re hunkering down
with no more Why God on your tongue.
You’ve realized what a colossal waste of time
that has proven to be,
as some questions
simply remain unanswered—
to your suffering.

But you pray, anyway.
Breathe in – sharp pain.
Breathe out – cry.
Breathe in – dull pain.
Breathe out –

a season of counted breaths
you decided to take in spite of the ache.
One broken foot in front of the other,
wincing as you wait.

For what?  You don’t know, but—






somehow bringing
a small peace, a light comfort
in the way of things.

You watch children
catch flakes on their tongues,
listen to giggles
and excited chatter
as they toss snowballs,

and soon realize
isn’t silent anymore.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For the Poetry Jam prompt:  What Brings You Comfort?  Snow is comforting to mewatching it fallthe way it settles, covers everything, and of course watching kids play in it. 

I’ve been in Las Vegas for my son’s baseball tournament so it’s great to be back and see what I’ve missed.  Looking forward to making rounds and catching up with what you all have written!

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Moonflower & Moth

In a wildflower garden
there lived a cocooned creature
who hatched, grew tall,
and produced feet, 6 in all.

And wings,
oh such wings.
But who can fly
when you've only been taught to crawl?

The butterflies were beautiful,
floating from marigolds to phlox,
but she was no butterfly—
she’d heard them talk.

So she waited,
said creature,
for the last quarter moon,
and then whispered to it, “what must I do?”

The moon answered
with glitter and white
when on the moonflower
it shone its light—

she knew then she was made
just right;
some things are meant
to temper the night.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

At dVerse Poetics we are writing poems for kids.  I went with message and the natural world.  Moonflowers pop open at night and are pollinated by moths. 

Thursday, October 17, 2013

long hot summer night

hush now,
wild thing
have you ever been to electric lady land?

gypsy eyes, bold as love
machine gun fire burning desire—

hear my train a-comin’, lover man
let me move you

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Jimi Hendrix @ The Rock, photo © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

I recently visited a restaurant that had this likeness of Jimi Hendrix painted on the wall near our table (and titles to many of his songs on the seating).  Jimi is a Seattle icon, though I won’t say role model, hahowever, he was a brilliantly talented guitarist.  I crafted this poem (and title) from titles of songs he wrote, recorded or performed.

Bold As Love
Burning Desire
Gypsy Eyes
Have You Ever Been (To Electric Ladyland)
Hear My Train A-Comin’
Hush Now
Let Me Move You
Long Hot Summer Night
Lover Man
Machine Gun
Wild Thing

Monday, October 14, 2013


photo © 2013 Jennifer Wagner

Just outside this circle of light
the mood of sky is darkening
as sprinkles of rain are turning to floods.

I feel I won’t drown this time,
awash in ash, as deep autumn burns out,
thrusting the baton to barrenness.

Stained on the caverns of my heart
are four amaranthine trees.
Their branches and leaves are arms and handprints,
shoring up each chamber.
Their colors are lanterns,
bright and glowing.

This heart has been made rich and fertile;
this ship has beacons, reasons,
to remain buoyed and sustained.
By them I am helped to weave my way,
even when the dark bleeds thick
upon my mind, poisonous and looting.

I have found in their eyes
warm respite from the seeping cold of lifeless hollows
and cradle the hope that is anchored
in the breath and vitality
that each of their smiles light
to bring me home.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For my four sons and all they have had to understand in my struggle with depression.  Ever yours ~ Mom.