Tag: poems about 2025

December Waking

This morning I awoke
long before dawn
to silence

silence

no car’s labored approach
no wind for trees
no waves or buoyed bells
no dull urban hum

it was a silence so soft
so weighted
as if the world had died

as if I had died

both within the bounds
of possible
on this burning year:
supermoon rising
a comet’s approach
devils circling

so I stayed a while
let winter
have her way
with bones
and wrapped myself
in quiet nothing

nothing

Tags Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, Memoir, Poem, poem as memoir, Poems, poems about 2025, poems about December, poems about transition, Poetry

Creativity Poetry

The Algorithm

Her Algorithm
has teeth
fangs, really
like the kind you see
in nightmares,
and its fur is
black and sharp
like a worn carpet
tread in worry and fear,
with small fibers
that pierce the skin
and stick like burrs.

Her Algorithm
has firm, strong legs
and claws that dig in
and hold fast
to a path
she didn’t even realize
she was walking down,
until she’s so far deep
and running at such a clip
all she can see is
the hot steamy breath
of her Algorithm,
the gates of hell
like a flaming blur.

and there’s nothing
a cute purring kitten
or craft project can do
but watch from the sidebar
and wait their turn
until the Algorithm
catches sight
of something
more interesting
and follows its scent
down a rabbit hole
of obscure poetry,
trendy dance moves,
and weird fashion from a
1970s JCPenney catalog
that turns her Algorithm
a shaggy, avocado green.

Photo and Poem ©2025 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, Poem, Poems, poems about 2025, poems about technology, Poetry, Writing

Creativity Poetry

25-Cue 2025

This is Reverend Scott on the valve in the belly of Poseidon.
Quint in the jaws of his worst nightmare.
Jack and Rose at the Titanic’s stern.
Eowyn and the Nazgûl. Harry and Voldemort.
Bruce Willis on the asteroid careening through space.

This is the battle scene.
The climactic moment.
The death scene.

This is before the denouement.
Before the resolution.
Before the credits roll.

This is the moment that needs you.
That demands faith.
That requires courage.
And sacrifices.

So hang on tight, baby,
because it’s going to be a bumpy ride…

Yippee-Ki-Yay, Motherfucker!

Image from the film 2012. Poem ©2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing 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, Anthropocene, Connecticut Poet, Jen Payne, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Poem, Poems, poems about 2025, Poetry, Writing, writing in 2025

Creativity

It’s Ok. It’s Ok. It’s OK.

Post author By Jen Payne
Post date March 6, 2025
No Comments on It’s Ok. It’s Ok. It’s OK.

I whisper, in hushed tones,
that she is safe,
stroke her soft furred body
as she lies in my lap,
promise the wolves
won’t get her,
hope she was sleeping
when they came last night
and ripped fur and flesh
from our friend the rabbit
who visited the yard all winter,
but I know she heard the screams,
I can see it in her eyes
when I make my false promises
I make a lot of them these days —
to this cat who needs to be close more often now
and to myself that everything will be OK.

Tags cat poems, CT Poet, Poem, poems about 2025, poems in 2025, Poetry