earth yawns … a new day manifests in the flick of an eye… owl gazes the night long, his orange eyes mount heavens ladder while full moon straddles the night sky same as she has for millions of eons. Someone out there is playing the clarinet.

Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Brookins

jennifer brookins

I’m invigorated sitting here in my old robe and timeless wooly socks, the type old men wear when they go fishing. The intoxicant of morning air shakes off the monotony of sleep. Good to let vagrant trickles of laughter escape that part of me who wants to burst out laughing for no reason at all even if it is 4 am.

Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Brookins

jennifer brookins

this odd poetry of my soul

more madness of heart than verse.

perhaps my thoughts of you should be reigned in

meet me in the boathouse for tea, lemony with ginger

afterwards I will lay my head on the soft down of your belly

dragonfly flutters on winters lake

buddha bird sits high in trees watching the moon shed tears

om shanti om

Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Brookins    


poetry by jennifer brookins

Heartache, you rapacious, marauding haunter nipping at the heels; you make every attempt to jackboot my day. Have you forgotten we no longer share the same bed – so anxious am I to meet the one who laughs within my soul. What happened to my old friend Raggedy Ann…my  diary filled with poetry written walking along river’s edge when life seemed too hopeless to go on. But on this wondrous autumn day her leaves – the color of ripe pimento, fall breathlessly in every corner of my garden; yesterday’s heartaches replaced with sonnets…I am humbled by their presence.

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

As each season passes, I wait; First winter, then spring, then hot languid summer months praying autumn leaves fall so close to my feet I can easily reach down and touch, but this morning raindrops dissolve upon my soul like rare cashmere. The greatest part of any day is waking up to the flow of life’s drum beat, another haiku morning. Just once I would like to pour myself into a long stem ice cream sundae glass and sip the whole of dawn until it sets once again.
© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

jennifer brookins poem

I mourn the loss of winter still amongst us, snow cones still hanging on evergreens like Tibetan monks paying homage in silent meditation; snowflakes falling in love one more time, weightless without regard to where they fall. These cold silvery days make me long for the smell of hay; farmers tilling soil and little birds on the look-out for a better feathering neighborhood. It is a feeling I’ve come through something heavy and survived. Yet, even when spring arrives there is a part of me that can’t let go of chilly moonlit nights and vagrant stars streaking across the galaxy. I’m hopeless. © 2020 Jennifer Brookins

Oh Weaver,

In heaven’s darkness, solstice was a reckoning, no tear ever so lonely as shed by winters moon drawing heat from midday sun into her aura, pronounced her loneliness; sleeps this night in the berth of heaven’s darkness, all manner of nomads on earth’s floor pay homage to sea and sky, owls, grey wolves, seahorses, and a bowl of tomatoes ripe from loving from lowly vegetable kingdom overcome their differences, sit together in silence, their heads bowed low, pass no judgment nor devour each other, It pleases you greatly to perform this miracle. Without warning fierce winds blow throughout the kingdom and the four earthly species become sightless, forbidden wedding between sun and moon has no witness, time suspends itself for this auspicious occasion. Her longing finds no respite in nights hush, sun consumed by her nearness carves a red talisman upon her heart inside of which slow burns his ecstasy as they lay within each other under canopied sky filled with changeling stars she whispers in his ear,

“Beloved, close your eyes I’ve a wedding gift for you.” moon places a snow cone inside his heart to quench his thirst during scalding midday heat.

such was the birth of dawn.

Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Brookins

Poor little human heart, I’m vexed you refuse to look beyond your nose. Let’s sit together this early morning like two old grizzlies drinking coffee and eating nachos while dawn wraps herself around our shoulders. Look … the sun is coming up like mangoes and ripe persimmons. Isn’t love grand ….
© jb