Rolled up and served upwell seasoned, handed overthere’s a sense of fulfillmentin a duty well done The burning takes placein an open field, after the rain comessmoke sends signals to the sensesinner life, come to life Whatever gets hung from these branchesthe birds will peck at, in timenight rodents will investigateit will keep the insectsContinue reading “The Seven Word Stretch”
Author Archives: amyjasek
Nip | Nostalgia Nibbles Most in Autumn
That nip in the air isthe little ping of nostalgia isa tickle in your nose isthe tantalizing aroma of earth ismingled with wood smoke isozoney comfort of rain coming isa good excuse for baking iscoziness and hominess all rolled into one isa blanket and slipper socks issnug as the cat by the fire isremembering whereContinue reading “Nip | Nostalgia Nibbles Most in Autumn”
Watchers
The stones speak the language we give themvocabulary imposed with a hammer and a chiselin their own wordsthey would be steadfast and silentwe blow them up to make way for our own plansgrind them to gravel to crushbeneath the wheels of our progresswe press them into servicestand upon the steps we carveand quarrel endlesslywhile theyContinue reading “Watchers”
In Translation | The Space In Between
The empty space between two peoplewhere everything gets lostvenom floats in the supercharged atmosphereof an argument ready to ignite Words unspoken float in between roomsfill up vacant seats in cars and restaurantsbecome the hollow pillow of regret next to youin the bed while through the open windowlost letters drift falling in fat lazy flakesthat soakContinue reading “In Translation | The Space In Between”
In Season
Fall’s delightFire’s light Winter’s lairDen’s bear Spring’s quickeningGreen’s thickening Summer’s bountyChildhood’s county This poem from my Medium archive was from a prompt on the pub Genius in a Bottle (on seasons, I think).
Through a Pinhole
the prick of a pinopens the darkened chamberto light — sufficeswith a broad embracereleases the pressurefrom obscurity, and softlyfocuses the desire to create what our ancestors knewwe refine, from raw to rawin matchboxes, beer cans,tea tins, even books the lightest touchwith piercing and tapebridges the divideflings wide the gate A little poem for World PinholeContinue reading “Through a Pinhole”
Ideal | On Not Waiting for Perfection
They keep Ideal on the top shelfI stand on my tip toes, I still can’t reachit takes a stack of chairs, topped with a pile of booksit takes stealth, so they don’t catch me at iteven at the top, it evades my grasp I push against the cabinetsweat and shove to knock it downbut itContinue reading “Ideal | On Not Waiting for Perfection”
Bask | The Whiskered Exposition of a Verb
She flips and flopsa furry sponge soaking up the sunseeking fiery heat inside or outmaintaining a constant state of roastinside and outhot to the touchpat the pet and watch her glow This poem was in response to a verb prompt. How about those whiskers? The old girl is 100% pampered, 100% loved, 100% of theContinue reading “Bask | The Whiskered Exposition of a Verb”
Me Time | A Mother’s Limerick
Reading in bed, what delight!Yet this “me” time is never quite rightFor as soon as I layI’m so pooped from the dayIt’s as if someone snuffed out the light. The grammar stickler in me worries that the use of “lay” is improper; I’ve left it, however, because of the rhyme. Where are my fellow mamasContinue reading “Me Time | A Mother’s Limerick”
Rabbit
In the dusk of an Easter weekendwhile nature held its breathin vigil vigilantthe Saturday gloom of eveninggathered fistfuls of theoverabundant growth thatlined the path Trees and brambles breathedpressing in on either sideanticipating dawn’s freshdew of renewaleven while night prepared to fall The briars offered up a rabbitwily, listeningnavigating the open voidbetween two sides of theContinue reading “Rabbit”
The Poetry Patio 