They’re building infrastructure in the woods

There are tractor marks in the rabbit warren,
that sweet spot on the path where the
bittersweet and grapevines arbored the trail,
where the sounds of commerce faded just enough to hear
the rabbits waiting for you to pass.

It’s bulldozed wide, now four-persons across
nevermind the rabbits
or the winter sparrows who found refuge there
or the jays who loved the grapes
or the pileated whose only recourse
is to tap out an S.O.S. on a nearby dying ash

They’re building infrastructure in the woods, you see
plowing back desperate saplings,
piling debris where the wild asters grew
flattening out the turtles’ fertile slopes

laying instead their misplaced traprock paths
and sweet-smelling lumbered bridges
giving us more room to tramp about
another ingress marked by colored flags
nailed deep into the skins of trees

Tell me please…
Will the rabbits find sanctuary before the snow?
Were the turtles buried alive?
Do the trees weep before the hammer strikes?

Poem and photo ©2022, Jen Payne

Looking for something to read?

I am always inspired by those life moments that move us most — love and loss, joy and disappointment, milestones and turning points. When I’m not exploring our connections with one another, I enjoy writing about our relationships with nature, creativity, and mindfulness, and how these offer the clearest path to finding balance in our frenetic, spinning world.

Very often, my writing is accompanied by photography and artwork. As both a graphic designer and writer, I think partnering visuals and words layers the intentions of my work, and makes the communication more palpable. I hope you will agree!

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• 

• 

NEW! Limited Edition Issue of MANIFEST (zine)

Issue #10, The Lola Poems

“I have lived with several Zen masters — all of them cats,” writes Eckhart Tolle in his book The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. “Watch any plant or animal and let it teach you acceptance of what is, surrender to the Now. Let it teach you Being. Let it teach you integrity —which means to be one, to be yourself, to be real. Let it teach you how to live and how to die, and how not to make living and dying into a problem.”
 
THE LOLA POEMS is a limited edition, memorial issue of MANIFEST (zine) that honors the passing of my own little Zen master, Lola, by considering the lessons she taught me in our time together.

16-page, 4.25 x 5.5 booklet, Cost: $8.00 or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00.

BUY NOW

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---

You can pay through PayPal using a PayPal account or any standard credit card. If you prefer the old school approach, please send your check, made payable to Jen Payne, P.O. Box 453, Branford, CT 06405.

The Pond is Quiet Today

**CAUTION** DO NOT USE WATER FOR THE FOLLOWING PURPOSES: SWIMMING AND OTHER WATER CONTACT, FISHING, IRRIGATION, LIVESTOCK WATERING, DRINKING…

Did the green heron see the sign?
Or was he given advanced notice
to vacate his perch on the east side of the pond?

As he left, did he call out to the wood duck brood and mallards?
Warn the turtles, frogs, fish?

“It’s only moderately toxic they say, but I don’t want to take chances.”

(Would you?)

The swan keeps a 40-foot distance, wonders if the chemical floats downstream, wonder if it’s as harmful as the turtle who snapped up her babes last spring.

The northern water snake who often skims across the pond knows not of half-lifes or bioaccumulations.

Nor will the field mouse debate the meaning of practically non-toxic with the bees who remain.


©2022, Poem & Photo by Jen Payne

4 a.m. and I am one a part of all

Are those fireflies
come to join my meditation
or all the stars

a constellation 
above the grass
as waves crash
in a quiet ebb and flow
of breeze
that catches in trees

     and that?

a soft bowl chime
Rinpoche
reminds

or the bell buoy
just offshore
marking time
and breeze,
the tease
of stars

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. Image: Nicholas Roerich, Star of the Hero.

Grace

The bee in the meadow
is chanting,
its words imperceivable
but for the rhythm
the vibration like my own
chanting      sometimes
before I start the day
and the bee, like me
is quick in its reverence
quick prayer
like the mealtime grace
of my childhood

God is great
God is good
let us thank him
for this food

Amen

Ommmmm

Bzzzzzzzz

ABOVE: The adoration of Common chicory (Cichorium intybus) by Bicolored Agapostemon Sweat Bee (Agapostemon viriscens). Photo and poem by Jen Payne.

In the ruins of my cathedral

In the ruins of my cathedral
I can still hear the angels sing
they from their loft of branches
and I on bended knee
begging for absolution
that will not come

not from the pine at the pulpit
sheared off in the storm

not from the maple
whose leaves filtered light
more beautifully than glass

not from the elm or the ash
who lie beneath my feet
extinguished by our blaze
our red hot disregard

so keenly unconcerned
that we are of this and part of this
and crumbling at our very foundation

the beech knows
its grief spreads
like sickness now

leaf to leaf

branch to branch

tree to tree

in the ruins of my cathedral

NOW ON SALE: MANIFEST (zine): Endemic

On May 24, 2022, an 18-year-old with an AR-15 semi-automatic rifle fatally shot nineteen students and two teachers, and wounded seventeen other people, at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. MANIFEST (zine): Endemic is a response that event. The proceeds from this issue will be donated to Sandy Hook Promise, a national nonprofit organization founded and led by several family members whose loved ones were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012.

12-page, full-color 5×7, Cost: $8.00 or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00

BUY NOW

SUBSCRIBE

---

Part lit mag, part artist book, part chapbook, MANIFEST (zine) is the eclectic creation of Connecticut writer / poet / artist Jen Payne. Consider it a hold-in-your-hands art installation featuring writing, photography, and artwork, along with bits and pieces of whatnot that rise to the surface as she meditates on themes like change and transition, solitude, time, storytelling, and finding refuge in these turbulent times. Each issue also includes a curated Spotify playlist. Layered with colors, textures, meanings (and music), the result is a thought-full, tactile journey with nooks and crannies for you to discover along the way.

---

You can pay through PayPal using a PayPal account or any standard credit card. If you prefer the old school approach, please send your check, made payable to Jen Payne, P.O. Box 453, Branford, CT 06405.

Transformation

The vetiver potion to conceal my self and sins

is no match for the honeysuckle so full in bloom

here on this summer Sunday sweet spot

before the masses, quiet enough to hear bees hum

while I, covered with the midnight meditations of spiders,

watch as starlings rise from the meadow in first flight

and small kits feast on clover, silent and unsullied

never minding the interloper come so early to the woods

left wondering what spell was cast for Eden

NOW ON SALE! Manifest (zine) #8

#8, Endemic

On May 24, 2022, an 18-year-old with an AR-15 semi-automatic rifle fatally shot nineteen students and two teachers, and wounded seventeen other people, at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, United States. The victims were Makenna Lee Elrod, 10, Layla Salazar, 11, Maranda Mathis, 11, Nevaeh Bravo, 10, Jose Manuel Flores Jr., 10, Xavier Lopez, 10, Tess Marie Mata, 10, Rojelio Torres, 10, Eliahna “Ellie” Amyah Garcia, 9, Eliahna A. Torres, 10, Annabell Guadalupe Rodriguez, 10, Jackie Cazares, 9, Uziyah Garcia, Jayce Carmelo Luevanos, 10, Maite Yuleana Rodriguez, 10, Jailah Nicole Silguero, 10, Irma Garcia, 48, Eva Mireles, 44, Amerie Jo Garza, 10, Alexandria “Lexi” Aniyah Rubio, 10, and Alithia Ramirez, 10.

MANIFEST (zine): Endemic is a response that event. The proceeds from this issue will be donated to Sandy Hook Promise, a national nonprofit organization founded and led by several family members whose loved ones were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012. Based in Newtown, Connecticut, their intent is “to honor all victims of gun violence by turning our tragedy into a moment of transformation. By empowering youth to “know the signs” and uniting all people who value the protection of children, we can take meaningful actions in schools, homes, and communities to prevent gun violence and stop the tragic loss of life.”

12-page, full-color 5×7, Cost: $8.00 or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00

BUY NOW

SUBSCRIBE

---

Part lit mag, part artist book, part chapbook, MANIFEST (zine) is the eclectic creation of Connecticut writer / poet / artist Jen Payne. Consider it a hold-in-your-hands art installation featuring writing, photography, and artwork, along with bits and pieces of whatnot that rise to the surface as she meditates on themes like change and transition, solitude, time, storytelling, and finding refuge in these turbulent times. Each issue also includes a curated Spotify playlist. Layered with colors, textures, meanings (and music), the result is a thought-full, tactile journey with nooks and crannies for you to discover along the way.

---

You can pay through PayPal using a PayPal account or any standard credit card. If you prefer the old school approach, please send your check, made payable to Jen Payne, P.O. Box 453, Branford, CT 06405.

Sunday Sabbath

The deer in the field
were startled
by the first shot,
were you?
You in your pews
a thousand feet away
there
praying for sins
praying for life
while
gun club gunshots
rang in the holy morning,
frightened the deer

and the bobolink.

Or you, while
the tactical defense cleric
in police surplice
preached a safety sermon
to the congregation
there
from the sacred pulpit:
carry your faith
defend from evil
shoot to kill
all lives matter…

amen.

 

#30 – Vacation

#30 – Vacation

It’s hard to be

come what may

on the last day

this gray area

between here

     and there

 

every movement

with its purpose

with its label of last

 

instead of a careless toss

there is a careful folding

of what we thought to bring

and treasures found

 

the kneel to check for things

that one last time

feels like prayer

 

please, god,

let me have one more day

amen

---

 

Photo (Cape Cod, MA) & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#29 – What will make a bookmark…

#29 – What will make a bookmark…

 

I have a bookmark box.

(Do you?)

 

In it, a random set

of handmade helpers

who save pages for me,

say YOU WERE HERE

as a reminder.

 

(But I dogear, too, much to their chagrin.)

 

When not nearby

or in a pinch

a gum wrapper maybe or

 

ribbon

feather

fob

 

once, a pressed ginkgo leaf

 

often, a friend’s cross-stitch

 

sometimes, his father’s 3×5 notecards
from New Guinea c. 1936

 

most recently, a note from my host to please remove my shoes before climbing up the ladder to the loft where I read Mary Oliver by moonlight.

---

Photo (Cape Cod, MA) & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#28 – Camouflage

#28 – Camouflage

A lone spring peeper

disclosed its location

by chorus too soon

then disappeared —

so I hid behind

my walking stick

hoping to mimic a tree,

share in its secret song

one more time.

---

 

Photo (Cape Cod, MA) & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#27 – I saw a secret to share

#28 – I saw a secret to share

 

it’s my secret

here

this wide beach

this wide, wild ocean

the wind, waves,

white caps

Whales!

 

(shhhhh!)

 

there, at the horizon

 

*p*

f

f

t

!

 

{ applause }

 

shhhh!

 

Whales!

---

 

Photo (Cape Cod, MA) & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#26 – JOY!

JOY!

 

How does one not

clap for

JOY!

at the sight of

one

whale

breaching?

---

 

Photo (Cape Cod, MA) & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#25 – Goddess of Mercy & Compassion

GODDESS OF MERCY & COMPASSION

the moon

at 3

whispered

I am here with you

cast its benevolence

danced

with the stars

above the

windowsill goddess

She pointing up

with great compassion

says her mercy

will not wane

together we bear

hardship —

here, let me help you…

---

 

Photo/Collage & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#24 – Room of Books

ROOM OF BOOKS

I live in a room

          of books

their authors here

          or gone

their final breaths

          on my pages

remembered or

          forgotten

is by luck

          of the draw

their posterity

          (and mine)

feat of might

or feast of mites

          you decide.

---

Photo & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#23 – chills are a stress response

chills are a stress response

the wave hits
like a surprise
makes me
shiver
hug myself
as it takes
the ground
beneath my feet
leaves me
precarious
balancing

laugh?
cry?

start the day
no matter

there’s a
come and go
to everything
an ebb
and flow

remember?

---

Photo by Hrvoje Abraham Milićević, Pexels. Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#22 – You Spin Me Right Round (for Earth Day)

You Spin Me Right Round (for Earth Day)
 
From my window
all I need to know of Earth
this morning:
her ombré sky indecisive
her sun bold no matter
glowing green buds of spring /
that flash of red? a cardinal
who was singing just a moment ago
a duet     like a record baby
spider spinning another masterpiece
as shadows fly across the lawn
they bob and weave and somersault
punctuated by
bee     bee     bee    bee
the pond ripples with morning traffic
turtles and ducks and frogs
peep    peep    peep
while the trees in unison sing
Watch Our Here I Come!

---

 

Photo by Hrvoje Abraham Milićević, Pexels. Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#21 – Surface Tension

Surface Tension

 

what is the surface tension

of water that rises

before a storm

 

that great heave of breath

 

right

at

the

tipping

point

 

before breakwater

and beach

conceded the flood

 

what begets her

saturation point

when enough

is too much to bear?

---

 

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#20 – Lip Twitch (So Sayeth Dr. Google)

Lip Twitch (So Sayeth Dr. Google)
 
caffeine
specifically: caffeine intoxication
 
mixed brain signals
(i.e. pandemic, politics, Putin)

[insert opening scene from Jaws]
 
STRESS!
 
fight or flight!
fight or flight!
fight or flight!
 
drugs
narcotics
 
potassium deficiency
 
hormone deficiency
(fuck you menopause)
 
parathyroid
(paragliding accident?)
(guilty of too much paraphrasing?)
 
hemifacial spasm
Bell’s palsy
 
Trauma
Tourette Syndrome
Parkinson’s Disease
ALS
 
TUMOR!
 

“Takeaway: Lip twitching is normally harmless.”
 

---

 

Image: Mouth (Brigitte Bardot’s Lips) by Gerhard Richter. Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#19 – Morning Respite from the Fray

Morning Respite from the Fray

Tempest at 3

with winds that

blew away dreams

but saved the tree

left us writing

by lamplight

and you

wanting to play —

how you love a good shadow

love the tease of a pen

on paper scratching —

until day broke

our moment

the beast arose

chased the tempest

back from the day

its tasks now swollen

and barely as sweet.

---

 

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#18 – One of a Thousand Lives

One of a Thousand Lives

One sea gull drops its catch on the rocks

and I think there’s a poem in that

but only the names have changed

since I last wrote a poem about the

one sea gull, its catch, and those rocks

that can be seen from the house

I thought for sure we’d buy

when it was for sale,

the year I wrote that poem about

the sea gull, its catch, and rocks

There was room there for

his design studio

and my writing space

for my art supplies

and his art collection — mostly Cape Cod,

our shared heart space —

He knew the artists’ names

looked up the owners of our house

they were artists too

and that life   oh that life

was as beautiful then as this morning

the seagull having breakfast on the rocks

and I, in starshine, nostalgic

 

---

 

Photo by Kunal Baroth/Pexels. Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#17 – God: The Anthropocene Interview, Part I

God: The Anthropocene Interview, Part I

 

I will miss

the birds most,

said God

when asked.

 

He, like all of us,

has been wondering

about things.

 

Wondering if a

pandemic

is natural cause

and effect, or

defense mechanism?

 

Wondering if evil

simply becomes itself,

or rises from the ashes

of what could have been?

 

Wondering how He

became the excuse

for so much violence

and unkindness?

 

Wondering what

“act of god” or

“mass destruction”

equates to a

serious reckoning?

 

Wondering why He

gave the most complex brain

to homo sapiens and not,

for example,

the osprey, the robin,

the starling, the crow?

---

Photo by Kunal Baroth/Pexels. Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#16 – On Easter

ON EASTER

It occurred to me

that an apt solution

might be to go sit

in a daffodil patch —

sink deep into the dirt,

commune with

the immortal blooms

that once grew

in Elysian fields,

become heaven myself,

rise to the occasion

or if not —

just return

again next year

hope a long sleep

yields sun

and sustenance.

---

 

Photo & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#15 – Ghosts

I’m sleeping with ghosts again —

my shapeshifters life savers

throw me a line in a dream

Here! Here!

they lie down beside me

curl into my spine

rest a hand, lend a shoulder

faces clear as always

voices, laughs

I know you.

They are my familiars

taking shape and form

as Comfort and Consolation

reminders

of love spent and saved

stored in a cupboard

with sheets —

eye holes to see me

clear as always

buoyant

in memories

---

 

Photo by Ron Lach/Pexels. Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#14 – don’t save me from this morning

don’t save me from this morning

 

birdsong catches

at my hem this morning

pulls me into the light

 

I saw the light,

said the twenty-something

at the diner yesterday

I saw the light and I was saved

 

he used the word 8 times

while I ate my burger

saved from sins of the flesh

 

(irony there)

 

saved from celebrating     too much

saved from loving      too much

saved from seeing god

in the birdsong

that catches at my hem

 

Do you think Jesus was a vegeterian?
Do you think he danced with the disciples?
Made love?     Oh! Holy! Night!

 

It’s sad to be so sure at 20  (so convinced)

leaves little room for magic

on mornings like this

 

and little room to dance

---

Photo & Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#13 – Dream 4.13.22

DREAM 4.13.22

 

I rub his bare belly

like a Buddha

it’s smooth and firm

 

and warm

 

he laughs

as a secret

 

street lights

stop lights

moon light

shows a face

I shouldn’t see

and I wake

hot

and tangled

wondering

if it’s just good fortune

or an explanation

of more than

I can grasp

---

 

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#12 – Honest Senryū

Dashboard light tells me

tank empty, you’re out of gas

Dashboard light…you’re right

---

 

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#11 – Not Today.

NOT TODAY

 

There isn’t a poem today.

 

My mother bit it off

and chewed on it.

 

She hadn’t had her lunch,

She hadn’t slept well,

She was frustrated and angry,

today, last week, last year

when I was 15,

so she bit down hard

forgetting all of the idioms

the hands

the wolf

the bed

left me to tend to the wound

when I was 15,

last year, last week, today

I’m too tired to write a poem.

---

 

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#10 – Meant to Shine

MEANT TO SHINE
For Max

in the yard

the flowers glow at night

you can follow the path of a snail

there’s fairy fire

in the old man’s crook

and sparks in the belly of a whale

in the sky

the sun does yeoman’s work

as it polishes half the moon

and the stars

they glimmer on for us

their facets roughly hewn

good heavens,

all the world’s afire

if we only take the time

to look up from our

whirligigs

and see the vast sublime

---

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#9 – Protego Totalum

Protego Totalum

When the healer asked at my illness

I explained

the permeable membrane

that is my heart space —

how compassion

and empathy have

always been allowed

free and unlimited egress

it is the mark of a good girl

a good daughter

a good sister

a good Catholic

to a fault, a good person

to a fault and this time

to a gait hobbled by the weight

by too much give, and not enough take

And so she prescribed for me

a Protego Totalum,

a silent incantation

complete with a swish and a flick

that seals up the leaks,

and saves the good for healing.

---

Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#8 – Overnight

OVERNIGHT

It rained all night

and I sunk into dreams

so deeply, I left a worn spot

like deer in a meadow,

magic and memory

crushed beneath

a weary soul

weaving milkweed threads

for warmth,

the star a lantern

to light her path

to morning.

 

---

Poem & Photo ©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#7 – The Muses Kept Knocking

THE MUSES KEPT KNOCKING

 

Not today, I told them

I don’t need what you’re selling.

 

I’ve got no pedigree,

I’m just a worker bee

and I don’t bow to the queen.

 

Not today.

 

But they wouldn’t let up.

 

So I let them in enough

to take a message —

a first line, a title, an idea.

 

Stuffed it all in a folder

and went on to other things.

 

Not today, I told them

I don’t need what you’re selling.

 

I don’t teach

I don’t preach

And I don’t have a voice.

 

Not one that counts.

 

So, not today.

 

But they wouldn’t let up.

 

I’m a fake.

It’s a mistake.

I don’t have what it takes.

 

No, no — not today.

 

But they wouldn’t let up.

Not at all, not once.

 

So I opened the door,

and the windows some more,

and out came my first poem in months.

---

Poem©2022, Jen Payne. Painting, Open Door, Brittany, by Henri Matisse. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.

#6 – Untethered

UNTETHERED

I am girl on the moon

present

and accounted for

you even see me       sometimes

half the time

but I lose footing

more often than I should

feel weightless

meaningless

not much holds me fast

keeps me in place

things come       and things go

round and round

round and round

 

but I suppose we’re all spinning

these days

find ourselves on the dark side

watching for something to hold onto

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Poem©2022, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.