Tag: Connecticut Poet

22 – Spirit Animal: Frog

The Universe is conspiring

conspiring frogs, I tell you

as little zabko considers dragons

the oracle insists on

clearing, cleansing, healing

revealing

the true nature of a spirit
out of balance
in need of water

for energy life breath

in the light of the
frog moon

drink from the cup

she says

put down that heavy load

forgive

rest

release

Inspired by the The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Deck and Guidebook by Kim Krans and When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill. Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry, spirit animal

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

21 – Soundtrack

drops of Jupiter
9 to 5
total eclipse of the heart

hold on
50 ways to say goodbye
unwritten

it’s all coming back to me now
don’t go breakin’ my heart
any way you want it
I would do anything for love
(but I won’t do that)

don’t stop believing

take me home
bless the broken road

you can feel it in the air tonight
save tonight
believe

I saw the sign
straight up!

all the small things
give it up

I want to break free
a thousand miles

dance the night away
a moment like this!

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry, road trip

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

20 – Considering the New Red Car

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 20, 2024
No Comments on 20 – Considering the New Red Car

Red is Relief (now)

Racy

Rmmm! Rmmm!

and ROAR

(what a) Rush

this Rocket (ship)

Ridiculous

Radical!

Righteous (dude)

Rejuvenating

and I am

Reborn!

Rebellious
Rambunctious
Rowdy

Risqué?

a Red Car driver

Rock star

Right as Rain

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

19 – The Story I Didn’t Write

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 20, 2024
No Comments on 19 – The Story I Didn’t Write

Her first husband was a rogue
too young for what she had in mind
but it was high-school sweetheart love
and her parents insisted
in a Roman Catholic sort of way
his too, it was a good investment
that soon included the benchmark 2.0 kids
in a house-and-white-picket-fence world
but he was prone to outrageous fortunes
and accidental accidents
that practically left him speechless
her too, most nights, waiting by the phone
so she gave herself a Divorce for Christmas
and never, ever looked back.

But he did. Retraced his missteps
relived his worst nightmares (and mine)
hit rewind and started over
with a nimble bride the same age
his first wife had been
though a better investment this time
consented not contrived
with two more dividends and
a house on a Dream
where he sometimes smiles
that scoundrel smile
to his reflection in the mirror
a flash of wicked conceit
for an endgame so very well played.

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo from Canva. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Memoir, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about ghosts, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

18 – Some Days I Hate to Turn the Page

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 19, 2024
No Comments on 18 – Some Days I Hate to Turn the Page

I suspect
the next
I know of you
will be the summary
the
life well spent
synopsis

and I know
it will come
as a shock
that sparks
through me

stays a while

like you did

perhaps
between now
and then
we might meet
embrace
like old friends
but
linger

a long, slow
epilogue
never to be
be printed

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo by Céline. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Memoir, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about ghosts, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

17 – Melancholy Musing

Hope is balancing a silk pin
while Faith dances round on top

Vision is blind and searching
and Dreams are at full stop

They used to call on Whimsy
and get her to stir the pot

But she’s bunked down with Sadness
and can’t really help a lot

So they lean into Serenity
and pray with all they’ve got

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Illustration by Elizabeth Chandler. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about challening times, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

16 – This Morning, 6 a.m.

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 16, 2024
No Comments on 16 – This Morning, 6 a.m.

The day is still
in silhouette

its angels
and demons
simplified
to sharp lines
against
the pale sky

hard to take
offense yet
left to
revel in the
chorus
just a while longer

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo by Miriam Espacio. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

15 – Exit Strategy

Ice Floe has always been my number one pick

a slow hushed push out and away

nothing dramatic

Walk into a cornfield and dissipate, not bad

Witness Protection Program

Bermuda Triangle

Tornado (too much)

Tardis

Wardrobe

Rabbit Hole

Worm Hole

or Alien Abduction!

without the probing questions

More ET or First Contact

Just take me with u

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

14 – Hidden Superpower

You can tell a lot

from a handshake

who has the upperhand, really

decipher the code

and read the room

in one firm

(or not so)

gesture.

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo by Alena Shekhovtcova. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

13 – Poetry

Poetry
like the maple’s seed
demands fertile ground
but more than that
temperature
and
location, location, location
clear days
and rain
but not too much
then
patience, perhaps
room to put down roots
figure itself out
bide its time
pray it’s not interrupted

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo by Antoni Shkraba. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

12 – Cat Care Haiku

When even the cat
knows you’re having a hard time —
it is time to rest.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Haiku, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about cats, poems about challening times, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

11 – Periphery (or sandwiched in between here and what comes next)

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 11, 2024
2 Comments on 11 – Periphery (or sandwiched in between here and what comes next)

I’m livin’ on the edge these days
distant cousin twice removed
from almost everything

Twilight zone or
outer limits

or this someplace
where everything in between
— the meat and cheese of the day —
are too much to bear

lettuce pray

I feel crazy, almost,
just enough to be scary
or raise concern
but only if I start talking

and there’s no one to talk to
thankfully, maybe
on the edge of night and day
except the cat

which makes it even madder

I’m considering a nocturnal existence
here on the dark side of the clock
leave the decision making
and negotiating to the day walkers
who don’t burn hot when the sun rises

do the birds only wake to the dawn
or are their insides flaming like mine
wondering what comes next in
these unpredictable days

Pay no mind to that man behind the curtain
he only thinks he controls his days

every day is unpredictable, darling
you’ve just had the blinds ripped off
the rug pulled out from under
your wings clipped

This too shall pass
she thinks with a wicked laugh
and what comes next will, too
so round and round we go
until we, dizzy, die

I feel thin, Bilbo said,
stretched like butter
over too much bread.

I need a holiday.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about anxiety, poems about challening times, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

10 – Tribute

There was no time
for gratitude
or remembrance

how the bees
loved her in spring,
the blossoms
full of promise

how the Robins
sought refuge in her
abundant branches,
suffered storms
raised families

no time hold
the memory
of her sweet fruit,
consider
its ripeness
one last time

to thank her for
summer shade,
the filigree
of shadows,
the soft
unexpected breezes

nor even to
regard the lichen
and velvety moss
that gathered
in her neglect,
embraced her
unpruned limbs

One hopes
the axman
soothed her,
that the
Jays and Doves
were nearby
comfort

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, nature poems, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

9 – Old(ish) Woman Walking

It’s a snake and turtle day at the pond
66° and everything seems enchanted

suddenly!

except my winter hips
which long for the agile ease
of the black racer

except my worried brain
that envies the tranquil turtle
and its sunshine meditations

but my ears still hear
know the garter under leaves
understand the ire of the wren
the wingbeats of the heron

my heart still marvels at the
osprey’s enthusiasm
to sing love songs
for yet another season

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, nature poems, poems about aging, poems about nature, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

8 – Wit’s End

The path
to Wit’s End
starts wide
and unexpected,
beckons you
with promises of
Hope Ahead >>

There are steep hills
built high on
Anticipation
followed by
dark valleys of
Disappointment
that eventually lead to
a narrow rocky path
marked
Just Keep Going >>

eerily dark
day or night,
its brambles making
forward movement
near impossible
its Switchbacks
and Turn-Arounds
keeping you
sufficiently
dizzy enough
not to notice
you’ve arrived

Wit’s End

breathless
heart pounding
Fight or Flight
muscles
glistening

wondering do you
follow
This Way >>
one more time
or jump?

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo by kublizz. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

7 – Kismet

She is a peculiar cat
full of spice
with an innate
determination
and
confidence
Said “I am here”
the first day
without qualm
and has been
persistent since

I wonder sometimes
how she came to me
what wheel was spun
in the great
Cat Distribution System
that put two and two
together to make
she and me here
at this particular
moment in time
that demands
my own resolve
and fortitude
asks me to lean in hard
like she does, often,
insisting
I belong here too.

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo: Molly helping me write this poem. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, cat poems, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

6 – String Theory

I am most envious
of the cat
sleeping
who knows not
the
long lists
or burdens
besides
the
particular
angle
of the stranded
string
its shadow
enough to
contemplate
for this day.

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Image: Woman, Cat and String, Will Barnet. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, cat poems, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

5 – If someone walked into your heart what would they see?

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 5, 2024
No Comments on 5 – If someone walked into your heart what would they see?

Or: When a Writing Prompt Takes You to a Battleground

The poet’s
skin soft from age
(perfumed in
Calvados perhaps)
knows the pulse
of waves
beneath her
feels how they
beat within, too
remembers well
the stories
and great heroics
of trust
and love
walks now
a gravely path
to an expanse
of cratered lawn
where ghosts
commune
in whispers
and tears are
only memory
reflected in
the morning rain
where sharp wires
— a final kindness —
keep her safe
from another fall.

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne, recollecting a trip to Pointe du Hoc. Photo: Pointe du Hoc, courtesy of the World War II Foundation. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Haiku, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, nature poems, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

4 – Witching Hour

Folklore says
the witching hour
arrives between
midnight and four,
but I beg to differ

I will tell you
with no uncertainty
that the devil appears
sometime between
7 and 9
as regular as the sun
in a wild cacophony
of sounds and alerts

hoof beats and
tire beats
engines roaring
bass thumping

Pavlovian dings
for here! no there!
over there!
and here!

Cursed notifications
and incoming calls
and speech bubbles
that

pop! pop! pop!
bang! bang! bang!

Headlines
and Bylines
and Subject Lines

It’s mischief
and madness
and mechanisms
seeping through
the heavens of morning
that only
the most wicked
could fashion

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. IMAGE: Wikicommons. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Haiku, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, nature poems, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

3 – Rain: A Haiku

some will say the rain

come again some other day —

not spring buds (or me)

Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. IMAGE: 1933, Kawarazaki Kodo, woodcut tulips. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Haiku, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, nature poems, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

2 – To Be or Not to Be a Poet

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 3, 2024
No Comments on 2 – To Be or Not to Be a Poet

He uses a word
I should know
should be able to define

provide example,
one of my own even

(poet, my ass)

To be, or not to be

like the woman next to him —
roll up a sleeve
to show my favorite lines
inked in perpetuity

So I make a note
That is the question

But shouldn’t I come equipped
with the tools of my trade?

The rhyme. The reason. The rhythm.

Emily etched on a forearm
I’m nobody.

But am I a poet?
Really?

And what am I making
of this wild and precious life?

Two roads diverged
and I found myself lost

wandered lonely as a cloud
until the word pulled me back

said LOOK ME UP!
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Until you find your way back
full of sound and fury

Poem and photo ©2024, Jen Payne. With thanks to William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, Mary Oliver, Robert Frost, and William Wordsworth. IMAGE: Still life with skull, candle and book, Paul Cezanne. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

1 – April arrives in flames

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 1, 2024
No Comments on 1 – April arrives in flames

April arrives in flames

bright plumes on the horizon

and it

without the benefit of sirens

instead inspires birdsong

and the slow rumble roar

of the long

awakening

so I drop and roll

in the field

press my ear against the ground

to hear the millions yield

their sound

the bulb and bird and beetle

how we go

too

from smoke to red hot fire

the days from start to end

burning holes

through quiet

Poem and photo ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, nature poetry, Poetry, spring poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Spring Observation

The trees are singing
incantations
like magic,
and I think
maybe the swan
is in need of some

she seems
too still for spring
this morning,
adrift along a
newformed current
of rainy days

but then
the bird king
resplendent
in his long
silver robes
soars slowly
in a wide arch

and at once
she rises
sees the world
through
morning eyes

to her savior
nods her regard
while above
the marsh hawk
his catch on display

banks on
our community
and calls it
righteous

Poem and photo ©2024, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, nature poetry, Poetry, spring poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Yoga on the Screen Porch at 4

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date March 9, 2024
No Comments on Yoga on the Screen Porch at 4

Two mischievous ones
stripes flared in moonlight
didn’t flinch (or flex)
at the warrior posed
above them

one     two     three     four     five    six

they intent to forage
just before dawn
and she to breathe
the star-lit moment
deeply
hold the silence for

one     two     three     four     five    six

their leaf scrratching
and indecipherable giggles
were her guru’s chant
hiding mythology

and god

one     two     three     four     five    six

thank god

for she had no fight left
just breath
and stars
and the
quiet morning pause
punctuated
momentarily
by skunks

one     two     three     four     five    six

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Poetry, poetry about yoga

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

The Poet at Midnight

Barefoot and moon-lit
she sneaks to the shed
to consider the
bucket of bones
she keeps on a shelf

picks at the
small white moments
she never thinks to bury

only to hold them again

turn them over
in her hand

press her thumb
into their curves
and brittle endings

remember sometimes
the soft flesh
that held them together once,
their silken wings of flight

oh how they soared!

When she is quiet enough
she hears them sing

whisper secrets
and stories
she saves in her pocket

shimmering

burning to be told

Photo by Jonathan Read, WildCraftsUK. ©2024, Jen Payne. 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. .

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about memory, poems about writing, Poetry, writing from memory

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

So Late in the Day: A Response Poem

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date February 14, 2024
No Comments on So Late in the Day: A Response Poem

These stories —
stories of men and women —
are familiar,
their expectations,
disappointments,
betrayals.

But my empathy
and anguish
are subdued now,
lingering in corners
and far enough
across the room
to not matter
all too much
in any immediate sense,
like the urge to smoke
that rises sometimes
with coffee or
at 3am with cold, cold stars.

And I swear I will never lie
to myself again
like that:
baking hope in cakes
or diamond rings
or affairs with
unintended consequences.

I will bide my time to 80
(god willing)
inhale the old habit
as promised,
but never again
will I lie in wait
for those stories —
stories of men and women —
I used to tell myself.

©2024, Jen Payne. Written after reading So Late in the Day by Claire Keegan. 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. .

Tags Claire Keegan, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about books, Poetry, So Late in the Day

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Poetry Assignment by the Docks

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date February 10, 2024
No Comments on Poetry Assignment by the Docks

Listening to The Piano Guys in My Car

As if by maestro’s cue,
five black ducks dove
bold into the current
as Beethoven’s
Five Secrets
took off in flight,
its eddies of sound
mirrored in the
rain-raged waters,
music and
a murmuring
of shore birds
swirled around
the sun’s
reflection,
carried with them
their quiet riddles
in ripples
and whorls,
while the familiar
and foreign
danced in the Sound
of shimmering secrets.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems abiout music, Poetry, poetry workshop

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Spacetime

See here, this sweep of time
that swings in swift strokes
from what was to what is
what was to what is
overlap so seamlessly
sometimes
I see it all
simultaneous
joy leaves and smiles fade,
trees fell from storms,
and silly giggles
echo off the shadows
of a ghost
who seems taller now
than the tree itself
as I skirt the shore
skips stones
in a high swell
so intent
to take what was
leave what is
what was to what is
what was to what is
what was to what is

Tags Connecticut Poet, dream poems, Jen Payne, memoir poems, poems about change, poems about grief, poems about loss, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Trapped (Dream 012524)

I was trapped in a house of the past
where staircases appeared
twisting to nowhere
and rooms were puzzle games,

where I walked through
old conversations
and emerged in the present,
my foreign reflection
in a hall of faceless mirrors,

the scenes of people
I used to know
still in their old spaces
were so real I could touch
the pencil he held in his hand
at the desk he used to write from

but only she
only she
was my only constant

broadcasting into rooms
to show me the way
with an urgent regard
so as not to get trapped there

hurried me to dress
and gather my things
as if the house were on fire

as if my insistence to stay
would alter a future
I still have no heart to imagine.

Photo by Pawek on Pexels. Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. 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. .

Tags Connecticut Poet, dream poems, Jen Payne, memoir poems, poems about dreams, poems about grief, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

They Called it a Microburst, But I Know Better

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date January 5, 2024
1 Comment on They Called it a Microburst, But I Know Better

Across town, the sky was falling.
While I settled in
for the long, windy night,
he laid beneath fallen trees —
a trauma compounded.

Everywhere, things were breaking —
foundations and forests —
and I wonder sometimes
if that was the moment
we broke as well.

The moment
all the cracks and shakes
finally finally
split us apart.

These days,
in the forest where we
first and often met,
I can see our ruins —
mark the day of our beginning,
the warped rings of memory.
and in the wreckage of canopy,
our final silent fall.

Photo & Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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. .

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, memoir poems, nature poems, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Sunday Drive

I try to tell from the walk,
the shadow, the stature,
the bow in the legs

is it him?

wonder what we would say
after all this time

I should hate him,
put the painful slides
at the front of the reel

instead I pull out the happy ones,
shine a light on what surfaces
of those feelings long ago,
of all that seemed possible

and even though I know better
now
I slow down

stare and stare and stare

consider the recognition
mine and his
a weird and inappropriate reunion
in a parking lot at Christmas,
Solstice Bells on the CD in my car
and he smiles
like he still owns me
joyful and cruel
all at once

so I speed up
before our paths even cross.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, memoir poems, nature poems, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Inroads

The deer path
has been excavated
from its intimate
trail of mossy secrets
to a course hewn
five feet wide
accommodating us, of course,
but not the slow poetry
of listening
here, where the
January thaws laid bare
a Caretaker’s House
like Brigadoon, brief
or here, where in the
sunrise silence
one could hear
the Lady Ferns
unfurl in fanfare
nor here, where
small Spring Beauties
gathered in gossip beneath
the wise old Oak
who bears witness now
only to the wreckage,
the red blaze nailed deep
without apology.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, nature poems, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

And the Beat Goes On

I am so tired of my humanity
of our vulgarities and violence
we never learn
or we do and forget
forget in the name of
[insert team logo here]
then we crown excellence
worship one above the other
but it’s not excellence if it’s
bestowed and not earned
if it’s dishonorable
or dishonest
He says he loves her
because she’s amazing,
but she is also a sinner
— aren’t we all —
according to that book
oh but which book?
and which god?
and which party?
and which plight?
Nevermind
Forget the hypocrisies
and contradictions
just go shopping —
Shop Shop Shop
Buy Buy Buy
More More More
to fill these gaping holes
in our souls
worship the profits
Oh holy night
but we kill the stars
and everything they manifest
a battle of wills
and wars
and words
us, them, he, she, they
big end, small end, dead end
Dead End
all of us
with no surgical procedure
to repair the despair
no subscription
prescription
no mantra
talisman
ritual
get down on your knees
devotion
we just spin spin spin
round and round
and round and round
same song, different day
different year
different decade
different century
and the beat goes on

La-de-da-de-da

Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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. IMAGE: This true-color image shows North and South America as they would appear from space 35,000 km (22,000 miles) above the Earth. The image is a combination of data from two satellites. The Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer (MODIS) instrument aboard NASA’s Terra satellite collected the land surface data over 16 days, while NOAA’s Geostationary Operational Environmental Satellite (GOES) produced a snapshot of the Earth’s clouds. October 2000, NASA.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Poetry, poetry about the state of the world

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Trespass

Trespass

This is no place for a cricket
I said out loud
to him and to nobody,
then lifted him gently
into the confines of
an old coffee cup,
belly of a whale
for all he knows of
Columbia and Sumatra,
but they sing there
like he does,
and who’s to say
his are not folklore
themselves —
long-told stories
passed down
late at night,
to our ear
cacophony,
to theirs
a thousand tales
a million years
the universe
in the short patch of grass
now, there, and safe,
as safe as Jonah
I pray silently

forgive us our trespasses

as I walk back to my car
parked askew
in the crowded lot.

IMAGE by Hobiecat. Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Anthropocene, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, nature poetry, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Dream Collaboration

She knows, of course,
it’s why she’s allowed me here
this intimate task of parting,
of packing up your things,
why we smile easily
between hidden glances

so this is her

We’ve known each other
forever, of course,
wondered enough to troll,
but we’re like minds and hearts
as well, why else
would you have loved us both?
I don’t tell her I saw you
a shadow, a whisper
in her room,
that your smile
was in gratitude
for the kindnesses
here now, and then,
when I held tight your
sorrows and secrets.

Instead, we just laugh
at your photographs,
agree to keep the tape
in the top drawer
to put things back together
after I leave.

IMAGE by Lucas Mota. Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Memoir, poems about ghosts, poems about memory, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

The Bear Prince

Once upon a time
there was a bear
and he lived
just around the corner
from the footbridge
where the jays
still caw about a troll
and hummingbirds
wax poetic about
jewelweed
on the banks of
the stream.
It was there, one day,
a woman stood in
utter disbelief
as rain fell
on a sunny day
and the breeze
turned into music.
People around her raced by
fear in their breath
eyes full of warning,
but she, being a brave sort
(or merely hopeless)
walked up the path,
around the corner,
and asked the bear to dance.

IMAGE: Poor little bear!, John Bauer, 1912. Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about bears, poems about memory, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

I Keep Writing Epitaphs

Last night, I snuck
across the pond
to the half-cut trees,
their slaughtered limbs
strewn across the yard
of the large new house
and listened while
spiders and ants
and caterpillars
evacuated, slowly.
I knelt below the
one last Maple
in whose branches
I once spied
turkeys sleeping
and I apologized
in whispers
that sounded like
midnight bird wings,
while my tears
collected in pools
around her sweet trunk
and we listened
as the stars departed
and the sun rose
and the marsh hawk
came to pay its respects
one last time.

Image: Google map of the pond and trees. Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about memory, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

She Sees It is All Connected

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date October 13, 2023
5 Comments on She Sees It is All Connected

Orb weaver
Webweaver
Storykeeper

wonders at the
man and woman
who move
beneath her —
the fine strings of connection
they don’t seem to notice

the man moves
and the woman follows
the woman speaks
and the man nods
somehow symbiotic

each of them
picks berries from
the autumn olive —
share the savoring —
pause and pucker
at the bittersweet

yesterday’s web
tangles in the woman’s hair
and the man assists —
white web entwined with
silver strands he hadn’t noticed
as threads of memory
spark around them

I wonder what you will look like with gray hair

but wisps of time and love
their midnight musings
only float on sunbeams now
as ephemeral as
she herself
her dance
on fine filaments
the dew, the stars,
the Universe

Photo by Rick Otten. Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, everything is connected, Jen Payne, poems about memory, poems about nature, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

The Mimics of a Lifetime

The weight of a catbird
in its final sleep
too close to the road
is surprisingly heavy,
as if all of her songs —
the whistles and whines
the cheeps and chirps
the mimics of a lifetime —
are stored within
her feathers
so soft to the touch.
I pray my long gentle strokes,
my whispered comforts,
might wake her
to forage with her chicks
once more
and I stay hopeful
for fifty-one steps
until I lay her, quiet, still
in the cool soft moss
of the shaded yard,
where the stalwart maple
keeps eternal watch.

IMAGE: Gray Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis) at the Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University, Boston, Massachusetts, United States.Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about birds, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

in what we have done

I used to hear god here

delight in her transformations,                                             I’m so sorry

day upon day

season into season,

now she is mostly quiet

nursing deep, fatal wounds

while I mostly grieve,

whisper apologies to the trees                              I’m sorry

toss offerings of acorns

into the beech grove,

a futile mea culpa                    I’m sorry

               I’m sorry

Photos & Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Punctuated Equilibrium

I think to warn the
hummingbird
of the black snake
I met along the trail,
then remember:
snakes don’t fly,
and even the racer
would be too slow
anyway
for the flit flit flit
of this apparition
I can’t blink to see
a solo staring contest
until my eyes tear up

sure, sure — blame it on the bird

my eyes were teared already
on this quiet, dying Sunday,
summer seeping into fall
but more than that
the things we can’t ignore,
the changes that might
someday soon
require the snake to fly
for its supper after all

Punctuated Equilibrium is a theory of evolution that claims that change happens suddenly over short periods of time followed by long periods of no change. IMAGE: Tree of Life. Charles Darwin’s 1837 first diagram of an evolutionary tree sketch, from his First Notebook on Transmutation of Species (1837). Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about evolution, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

May all beings…

There’s a spider
crawling on the Buddha
that sits on my desk,
and I wonder
if she —
the spider —
is praying,
wonder if I might
ask her
to do so
on my behalf
for the
butterfly
I have no heart
to remember,
its blacktop
last breaths
and wingbeats
were things
I could not bear
this morning
on my way
to the woods
that are
themselves
dying.
Good Lord,
if I stop
to kneel down
for each
and all of it,
there would be
no time left.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about nature, poems about praying, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Namaste

The great horned owl at 4

wondered at the bell buoy

and its slow solemn song;

he considered then

the leaf steps of a frog

and the tap tap tap of rain

and oh! what of the

the cricket chorus

the cat and mouse games

and that woman

there

in child pose or prayer

sharing his inquisitions

who? h-who? who? who?

Photo by Tom Koerner/USFWS. Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about nature, poems about owls, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Library Visit: A Dream

He’s familiar somehow, though taller here in this dreamspace, or maybe he’s more than one — some midnight rendering of them or Him —

but whatever he is, we’re at the library — a colonnade and chandeliers, passing spines and shelves

talking about books in a rambling conversation like you have with that person who so easily takes up the space next to you

remember?

I think I know him and love him — I must — because when he leans in to kiss me I oblige

and we keep walking, out the door and through town past nighttime store fronts

until I wake up and wonder if I should perhaps entertain the idea of a Him again

or if these midnight visits are comfort and substance enough for the ten or twenty bit of road left ahead.

Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. Image by Merve. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, dreams, Jen Payne, Poetry

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Zeitgeist

It started with the shock
(And the shock and awe)
Then the monetizing
of fear and attention
stimulated by 24 hour
scrolling alarm.
There was finger pointing
and hate fanning,
an us-against-them
rip current
we couldn’t escape.

We glimpsed Hope
then we lost Hope
over and over,
until the hate spilled out
formed a tsunami
fueled by the
the lock-step
dumbing down,
the entertainment value
of ignorance
broadcast on our
unescapable devices.

So we coronated a devil
the leviathan
who gorged on hate
and let plague prosper,
while swarms of protest
were never enough
to stave off the
the dead ones in school halls,
the bloodied rights of masses,
the arming of idiots
the fires and floods,
the crimes of church and state.

Then two decades in
to this human debacle,
our sanity eroded and collapsing,
they announced
that aliens walk among us
and I wondered,
hoped and prayed

Oh! but what if they are angels?

Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. Image: group of angels, Corrège. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Poetry, poetry about transition, poetry after 2020, transition

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Interstate Epitaph

There but for the
grace of god,
I whisper as a prayer
in fast passing
for the pigeon
who lies writhing
by the overpass,
its fatal injury
too much to bear
for either of us,
so I imagine the wings
that catch its
final breaths of sunlight
are those of angels
sent to comfort
its frightened spirit,
stroke its soft body
and hush the pain
in the flash of a second
I could not.

IMAGE: Study of Mice Dancing, Beatrix Potter. Poem @2023, Jen Payne. 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, nature poems, Poetry, poets

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

A Mouse Tale

It’s hard not to wonder
if mice get post-traumatic
the stress of
recall repeat remember
the night
she levitated
formed circles
scaled stairs (twice)
ran and ran and ran
hid and hid and hid
found herself
in the most unlikely
predicaments:

cat’s mouth
cat’s paw
gloved hand
and then…

then…
that wide expanse of lawn
lit by the moon
and streetlight

I left her there at 2
it seemed the safest place
despite the trauma
or because of it?

In daylight, will I find her
there still…
still in the grass
just a ghost in the walls?

I don’t dare look.

Tags being a better human, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, nature poems, Poetry, poets

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

How I’ll Glow Up

As I grow older,
I want to make myself
a better person

I want to put down my ego —
my self ego
and my human ego —
and see the world
with wide wonder
and compassion

I want to stop taking sides,
stop needing a defense
or a logo or a standard,
let go of my attachments,
my fear, my uncertainty,
wear my age loosely

I want to open my heart,
let love in
in big, scary ways
so I am full up

so instead of dying
maybe I just burst
like the jewelweed flowers
that explode with seeds
along the trail

seeds of love
and curiosity
seeds of magic
and dreams

seeds left to flower
in the oneness
when I am gone

This is a response poem because yes, some products are made in China, but so are Pandas and Snow Leopards, so grow up. Photo by Terry W. Johnson, Georgia Wildlife Resources Division. Poem @2023, Jen Payne. 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 gif

Tags being a better human, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, make love not war, nature poems, poems about enlightenment, Poetry, poets

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Do Unto Others

She seemed lost
or tired
(or both, like me)
the carpenter bee
sitting in my driveway
hot in the midday sun,
and while she wasn’t too keen
on being seen,
or moved, for that matter,
I shuttled her onto a notecard —
Post Office, Library, Lettuce —
and sat her down safely
on the cool peaty mulch
in the shade of shrubs
in full purple bloom,
left a small puddle of water
in case she was thirsty,
then said a little prayer
so small and so large
in everything, do to others
what you would have them do to you,
Amen.

Photo & poem ©2023, Jen Payne. 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 gif

Tags Connecticut Poet, Environmental Poetry, Jen Payne, poems about nature, Poetry, poets

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Some Days I Just Want the Jiffy Corn Muffin

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date May 17, 2023
No Comments on Some Days I Just Want the Jiffy Corn Muffin

Taking center stage in the felt and fiber exhibit
was a shrouded human-size figure,
death wrapped in yellow
— the color of butter and bees —
but called Chrysalis to imply resilience

resilience in the face of everything

OMG, the everything we face sometimes feels like death —
its foul smell invading even the simple pleasures

it’s hard to ignore the crises in woods that are dying
it’s hard to ignore the crises in the violence of a Sunday drive
it’s hard to ignore the crises when even my favorite characters are battling hate and headlines

every thing of the injustice

I long for the days when my favorite characters could just fall off ferry boats and have sex in on-call rooms.

When their soundtrack was mine on a Sunday drive that didn’t require white knuckles and a prayer.

When the woods were lush and fertile, the promise of the butterfly born from the Chrysalis, color and light and HOPE.

It makes you want to lie down, wrap covers around your tired body, and sleep a deep and dreamless sleep,

because these days even the dreams are pockmarked and ravaged

and you wake gasping for breath, the bile of it all burning your throat,

a burn that nothing will assuage…except the last Jiffy corn muffin
dripping with butter and drizzled with honey,

a final gift from the bees, who swoop and swarm en masse, before leaving for good.

Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. An ekphrastic poem contemplating the juxtaposition of Chrysalis Shroud for LGBTQ: Allies Supporting Resilience by Annie Collier and Kim Hahn, and Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix by LeBrie Rich in the national exhibition FELT: Fiber Transformed that was on view at the Guilford Art Center, March-April 2023. Photos by Ashley Seneco.

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 gif

Tags Connecticut Poet, Environmental Poetry, Guilford Art Center, Jen Payne, poems about climate change, poems about nature, Poetry, poets

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Finding Exile

Preparing herself for the inevitable,
the sandpiper —
usually found along the coast
makes her home now
by a small pond in the woods
three miles from shore.
It’s quiet here, most days,
except when the wind
carries clamor from the south,
and she’s been welcomed
graciously
by the turtles and frogs,
the heron and wood ducks.
They’ve come here, too,
this protected space
with ample shade and shallows
to share with anyone who needs
asylum from the rising conflict.
You might say we are refugees,
displaced from the familiar
by forces not of our making
finding exile here,
making life despite the storm,
saying grace for the bounty

Tags Connecticut Poet, Environmental Poetry, Jen Payne, poems about climate change, poems about nature, Poetry, poets

Memoir National Poetry Month Nature Poetry Writing

Poet on a Rock

The moon
all but a ghost
this morning
faces the sun
with eyes tilted
and welcomes the day.
From the trail below
I watch them greet
each other
in the sky and
at once I am
celestial,
nothing but
atoms and poetry
in a cosmic breeze,
whirling in space,
witness to miracles.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about the moon, Poetry, poets

Nature Poetry

They’re building infrastructure in the woods

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date November 26, 2022
5 Comments on 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?

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about nature, Poetry

Books Creativity

Looking for something to read?

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date October 6, 2022
No Comments on 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!

Tags books about Cape Cod, books about Connecticut, books about grief, books about mindfulness, books about nature, books about transition, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Three Chairs Publishing

Creativity

NEW! Limited Edition Issue of MANIFEST (zine)

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date September 17, 2022
No Comments on 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

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.

Tags cat lovers, Connecticut Poet, CT zines, Eckhart Tolle, Jen Payne, meditation, Perzine, Poetry, Three Chairs Publishing, zines

Poetry

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

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems abou nature, poems about the environment, Poetry

mindfulness Poetry

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

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date July 19, 2022
No Comments on 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

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, meditation, Poetry, poetry about nature

Creativity

Grace

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date July 4, 2022
1 Comment on 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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, CT poets, Jen Payne, poems about god, poems about nature

Creativity

In the ruins of my cathedral

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date June 27, 2022
3 Comments on 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

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, poems about nature, poems about the anthropecene, Poetry, Writing

Creativity

NOW ON SALE: MANIFEST (zine): Endemic

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date June 22, 2022
No Comments on 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

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.

Tags Connecticut Poet, Connecticut zines, CT zines, Jen Payne, Perzine, poetry zine, Three Chairs Publishing, Zine

Creativity

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

Tags Connecticut Poet, CT Poet, Emily Dickinson, Jen Payne, Poetry, some keep the sabbath going to church

Creativity

NOW ON SALE! Manifest (zine) #8

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date June 6, 2022
No Comments on 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

Tags Connecticut Poet, Connecticut zines, Jen Payne, zines, zines about gun violence, zinester

Creativity

#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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about Cape Cod

Creativity

#29 – What will make a bookmark…

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date May 2, 2022
3 Comments on #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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about Cape Cod

Creativity

#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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about Cape Cod

Creativity

#27 – I saw a secret to share

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date May 1, 2022
No Comments on #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*

{ applause }

shhhh!

Whales!

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about Cape Cod

Creativity

#26 – JOY!

JOY!

How does one not

clap for

JOY!

at the sight of

one

whale

breaching?

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, poems about Cape Cod

Creativity

#25 – Goddess of Mercy & Compassion

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 30, 2022
No Comments on #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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#23 – chills are a stress response

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 24, 2022
3 Comments on #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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

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

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 23, 2022
No Comments on #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!

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#21 – Surface Tension

Surface Tension

what is the surface tension

of water that rises

before a storm

that great heave of breath

right

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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

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

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 21, 2022
No Comments on #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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#19 – Morning Respite from the Fray

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 19, 2022
No Comments on #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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#18 – One of a Thousand Lives

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 18, 2022
1 Comment on #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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#17 – God: The Anthropocene Interview, Part I

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date April 17, 2022
No Comments on #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?

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month

Creativity

#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.

Tags #NaPoWriMo, 30 poems in 30 days, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month