The humility of the artist is this:
there is nothing new under the sun,
not even Morning Air.
But our brilliance is this:
we do it anyway.
Category: Creativity
16 – Wordsmiths Over Coffee
She says she is losing words
at her age, hard to come by
What is the name of that purple flower?
Crocus?
No. No.
She shrugs her shoulders as if to say:
I never wrote about flowers anyway.
Hyacinth?
I’m trying to put words in her mouth,
fill her up so she doesn’t forget or worse,
leave me to fill in the blanks myself.
Yes, Yes, that’s it.
She nods and we laugh,
the pair of us relieved.
Hyacinth.
Poem ©2018, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month 2018, #16. If you like this poem, discover 80 more the book EVIDENCE OF FLOSSING: WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND! Purchased your signed copy today! CLICK HERE
15 – The Indiscriminate Nature of Inspiration
Poet, please explain
the watery footsteps
down the hall —
did a ghost of memory
happen through
or did a poem
show up in the shower
again?
Poem ©2018, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month 2018, #15. If you like this poem, you’ll find 80 more the book EVIDENCE OF FLOSSING: WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND! Purchased your signed copy today! CLICK HERE
Words, Crazy Words Reviews Evidence of Flossing
“Payne’s other work as an essayist is evident in many of the narrative poems. Strong sense of place and point of view carry the individual poems as a cohesive whole. This collection is one I will turn to again and again. I anticipate greater appreciation for this thoughtful collection each time.” – Tara Huck, Words, Crazy Words
Click here to buy the book now!
10 – In the Company of Spiders
A
spider
dropped
from
the
ceiling
this
morning.
Dropped and bounced on a fine line
between fear and fortitude.
We have been interacting ever since —
she to my left while I lean ever so slight to my right;
she out of sight so I step to the kitchen for a spell;
she now along the wall and towards the window,
and I with a cautious eye.
I do not know how long we will play at this —
living in the company of our fears.
If I spoke spider, I would offer her quid pro quo
I will not murder you today if you stay
just
so
far
away.
Photo: Long-bodied Cellar Spider, Pholcus phalangioides. Photo and Poem ©2018, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month 2018, #10. If you like this poem, then pick up a copy of my new book EVIDENCE OF FLOSSING: WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND today! CLICK HERE
7 – On the Discovery of an Owl Pellet by a Poet
This absurd amalgamation
of bone white memories,
what once was
now something
wholly other!
Holy other,
this reliquary of
god’s creation,
every moving part —
what made it tick —
left here for time.
On bended knee,
the witness poet
should whisper
some ancient prayer
of gratitude.
Yes, gratitude…
for this is poetry incarnate,
the muscle and bone
of our experience,
how we ingest
and re-create,
How we take
what was…
make it new,
make it sacred
bone of my bone
and flesh of my flesh
A pellet, in ornithology, is the mass of undigested parts of a bird’s food that some bird species occasionally regurgitate. The contents of a bird’s pellet depend on its diet, but can include the exoskeletons of insects, indigestible plant matter, bones, fur, feathers, bills, claws, and teeth. Photo & Poem, National Poetry Month 2018, #7, ©2018, Jen Payne. For more poems like this, order a copy of Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind today! CLICK HERE
6 – the writer at dusk
The characters –
a time traveling
old soul mystic type
and a limping drug smuggler
with a green thumb
and a big heart –
stand in a kitchen
at daybreak
drinking coffee
while I sit beneath
the layers of the day,
heavy and bearing down
on me, here
(with barely a moment to spare
for characters in books or otherwise)
dreaming of morning rituals:
the dim light and incense
the guru’s chant (or silence)
water transformed
to magical infusion,
and fresh, fresh words on a page.
