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I.
Is my absence,
sunshine feathers
on asphalt
where shadows once formed,
noticeable? Does my presence
irritate in degrees or add flavor
to disorder, the same as
a solitary bread crumb invites figures
of speech from near and far limbs?
Is punctured quiet a signal
or a story? Seed by seed, worlds
build, then crumble. Am I
considered
more threat than potential
source of nourishment? Does my absence
have a sound? Like an echo?
Or a silent cry for help?
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II.
Does my presence
have a scent? Like stale boloney? Like an egg,
scrambled? Like hope? When sounds of war
break out in waist-high cat tails, which of you
dare to inquire? Which of you dominate?
Do the red robins struggle to camouflage
like script in a late afternoon sky?
Does the woodpecker
question
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Jen Schneider © 2024
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Cover design by JanK
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At Daybreak
i wonder
if the morning
candle st(w)ick
ever craves n(l)ight
stirred over a coffee
& and crossword
i wonder
if the printer jam
ever thinks of the traffic
& whether either
ever crave a life
of strawberries & spice
/ that’s what sunday morning
breakfasts are made of –
coffee & crosswords
over ice
in search of __words & wonderings__
1. Morning verb
2. Morning noun (plural)
3. Morning adjective
4. The color of morning
5. The flavor of morning
6. The scent of morning
morning sun pools as puddles __1__
& __2__ stir. daybreak dances
the tango. nearby, __3__ limbs
lock in __4__ cotton and __5__-
flavored laughter. __6__-scented
kisses waltz behind lace-covered
windows. Hello.
closed for business
/ the daily news muse
out of office (auto replies)
crosswords (no solved clues)
AM/FM radio (finely tuned)
hammock (tied to favorite trees)
cheese on crackers (mozzarella, please)
red Bic Ballpoints (extra ink)
solitude (time to catch winks)
don’t blink
inhale, exhale, breathe
thread (b)looms
stretch limbs
flex (s)wings
exaggerate minutes
between Now and Then
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Connect the Dots Family Lots
a
star
blinks twice
and i grin
then trace dots and cell
hotspots – i phone the kids
all welcome, no tickets needed
my
gaze
shifts north
as fireflies
tango then click wings
– an open air, summer waltz
Otherwise, I’m Just a Coffee-Scented Puddle
the
coffee maker
burps drips
of hickory roast
into a ceramic mug
-- chipped
/ raspberry, lemon, lime
stripes. each drop
a burst of / life,
tears finely-ground -- mine
on silent whispers – nearby
the
hawk
circles
/ high and low
memory both in
and out of reach
– weary ghosts try
to trace shadows,
breathe silent whispers
wave wires,
send memos
== hello, goodbye, sigh
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Jen Schneider © 2023
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Click title to download microchap
Cover by JanK
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Love
violet-hued blankets
hug blades
of freshly mowed grass
sun-kissed limbs toil
then linger
Nostalgia
red-gingham apron
lies flat on wooden table
batter bowl nearby
boy in blue baseball cap
counts pennies
for mr softee truck
girl in soil-stained
denim overalls sleeps
on blue corduroy beanbag
Sadness / Disappointment
bazooka gum melts
under sole
of brand-new high-tops
scoop of raspberry
ice-cream drops from waffle cone
as girl chases school bus
Regret
numbers etched
in memory
/ never dialed
Innocence (in Stages)
a young woman drunk on new love
leaves a voicemail for a soon-to-be
ex-boyfriend. in a flat
she both furnished & tarnished.
-- a cream love seat & a faded
leather recliner / four positions.
cushions stained of tomato broth,
taco bell hot sauce & bad breath
/ covered of throw pillows scoped
& scooped at last summer’s fringe
festival / victims of half-price
tickets & unexpected rain.
& whose refrigerator houses
her antibiotics – she’s twelve
days into a two-week course
her message mundane --
leave the bags with the doorman.
don’t forget to knot
her voice flat. her belly sloped.
she believes it’s bloat / an antibiotic
side effect – treatment for unexplained ails.
in five weeks, she’ll know
more, not better –
new love neither synonymous with true love
/ not the same as clay pots of ripened
memories / a drive-through
that (along with whiskey) / quickly sours.
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Age(s) of Innocence
caramel-coated fingers
poke at a small brown bullfrog --
one croaks. one coos.
a soul named ___
the string of syllables
that (never fully) capture
the feeling as tear-soaked fingers
reach for mahogany casket
black sedan pulls away
from curb / then accelerates
Joy
toddler
on hands, knees
& toes
chases caterpillar
both lose race
to fluffy canine
a woman
named joy
walks alone
at night & whistles
to/with/of the byrds
Change
woman in oversized sunglasses
drags hefty garbage bags of
undersized clothes to curb
to every season there is a layer
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Jen Schneider © 2022
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Click title to download microchap
Hope is the thing with feathers
By Lauri Burke
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hope in/of/to (fill in) the blanks :: ready. set. go.
1. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. The scent of joy
2. Sip. Savor. Season. The flavor of happiness
3. Close eyes. Listen. The sound of hope
4. Cup right ear. Opening lyrics of a favorite song
5. Turn pages. Closing line of a cherished novel
6. Spin. Stop. Look. Title of a beloved work of art
7. One. Two. Three. Something that beats
8. Four. Five. Six. The scent of curiosity
9. Three. Two. One. The flavor of peace
10. Cradle left ear. The sound of contentment
11. Open book. Opening line of a cherished novel
12. Finale. Closing lyrics of a favorite song
13. Ready. Set. Go. Something that compels
14. With hands folded. A blessing
15. Interlocked with another’s fingers. Another blessing
16. Arms wrapped in warmth. One more blessing
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ready. set. go. :: hope in/of/to (fill in) the blanks
just when you think there is nothing more to do/say/think, _1__ floats. nearby. noses inhale.
exhale. bodies breathe. calendar pages flutter in soft winds. tongues click. legs curl. soup’s on.
broth of thick & thin cubes warm. wonder is fueled. curiosity fed. time continues to clock.
__2__ simmers. conversation wraps limbs with __3__ tones & tunes. red robins peck at
feeders as blue jays peck at soil. over mossy hills. thru skies of lovely blues. yarns thread
needles. hands & hooks work together to crochet charms & curate collections of _7__ & _13_.
words & works line shelves of oak. leaves of birch sway in warm puffs of breath & dandelion
wishes. nail beds boast crimson lacquer. soil beds boast seeds of garden greens. potpourri
whirls. cotton candy of boysenberry & lemonade yellow twirls. wars on parade settle. radios
belt __4__. lust dissipates. luck lingers. sentences are strings of letters turned words turned
wonder. nails trace __5__. lips promise __8__. fingers weave blankets of bravery & __9__.
train horns toot. all feet find porches of welcome. bells toll. _10_ echo. time continues to
clock. radio dials dismiss worry. _12__ streams while _11__ welcomes. velvet curtains rise.
grains nurture growth. rains of salt & shelter nurture & rise. pancake batter spreads. fresh
milk blends with sweet butter. eggs scramble. shells secure & protect. cutlery collects
memories & moments. pigments proffer & portend good fortune. no need to pretend. a
new year wags its finger. knuckles curl & call. __3__ & __10__ echo. hope brews amidst
times & tales of sorrow. calendar pages flutter in soft winds. pages turn. blessings in plaid
& gingham hues smile on all whom pause to look/touch/feel. all eyes see. each other. There
is no other. voices sing. lyrics of lavender & chamomile call. all legs climb. no mountain too
high. chips scatter. salt & oil blend. blessings blanket. bounties of _14_ & _15__. _16__ bubble. hope heals. promise of blanks filled. ready. set. go. heal. hope.
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14 ways to tear wear a flannel (& find happiness in happenstance)
he wore the flannel I gifted him on our anniversary.
also, the day he (and its matching beanie) had been clean for three months.
crisscrossed fibers of navy blue, birch brown, and emerald green
formed a blanket of checkers amidst checkered paths
turns out there is more than one way to wear a flannel (with/without a beanie)
1. Finger buttons lightly. Tortoise shell both turns time & turns fragile.
2. Secure all clasps. Watch for frays & strays. Confine loose strands.
3. Trace time across fibers of teal & taupe.
4. Track paths through threads of perpendicular meetings.
5. Observe patterns. Plan ahead.
6. Inhale. Exhale. Scents linger longer than experiences.
7. Fabric retains scents (moments) even as memory & hearing fade.
8. Blanket babes. Warm the bedridden. Bemuse the people watchers.
9. Fabricate histories of healing & humor.
10. Select suitable materials. Select complementary (sometimes contrasting) hues.
11. Position well. Double thread. Pin patches. Tuck loose ends.
12. Cuff hems. Fold collars. Dab stains. Avoid setting (& settling).
13. Raise shoulders. Straighten backs. Comb racks.
14. Continue walking. In rain & fair weather.
Flannel in/of/over hand. One foot in front. Then the other.
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Jen Schneider © 2022
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Click title to download PDF microchap
Cover collage by JanK
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Just when you think there is nothing left to say (eat), a string of syllables (solitary onion) rolls from
behind the empty cereal box, the one with the large tiger and the crossword funny, with promises
of treats, no tricks. the tiger taunts, the box’s empty interior teases. bellies growl. letters line and
align. the onion offers itself as a point of contention. perhaps redemption. there are 14 plus ways
to write / peel / cook a poem (an onion).
14 Ways to Write a Poem Peel & Cook an Onion (onions & potatoes, too)
1. Slice carefully. Syllables. Slivers. Sides.
2. Wet gingerly. Fingertips. Countertops. Tides.
3. Let fingers linger. Let lingering fingers flounder.
4. Remove excess skin. Syllables, too.
5. Dice carefully. Discard generously.
6. Look for layers. Layer all looks.
7. Focus on the concrete. The smallest of spores (spuds & pores, too) spur stories.
8. Sift scales. Sort flesh. Remember membranes.
9. Sweat. Simmer. Sautee. Collect.
10. Limit tunics. Limit tonics.
11. Tolerate tears. Tolerate tissue.
12. Savor bulbs. Secure light.
13. Caramelize & crystallize.
14. Shed tears. Serve carefully.
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14 ways to wear (write) a cozy/comforting/carefully curated flannel (life manual)
1. thread (tread) carefully
2. secure circular/square/pearl buttons (besties, too)
3. examine fibers (also fibroids) annually
4. layer loose weaves welcomes/weekends
5. be mindful of pigments that fade (memories, too)
6. remember that gold & silver tarnish
7. ignore trends & fads. adopt a personal style (& posture)
8. choose complements wisely / wash regularly
9. air dry fabrics (& grievances)
10. fold & store garments gratitudes carefully / recycle generously
11. match mingle for complementary tastes (not tailors or colors)
12. crease / caress / smooth / relish _unique / hand-stamped_ blemishes
13. select for comfort not convenience
14. follow sizing (not __un/re/pro_ secularizing / strategizing) guidelines with caution
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just when you think there is nothing more to say (wear), a loose thread pulls (plays) at hearts of string & strings of steel. a finger plucks. a note pings. the sun continues to rise. tissue once torn takes time to heal (laugh, too). pins prick. blood boils & brews (even the hottest of teas (tempers) cool). sweet puppies lick & never lose _ hope_ / _heart_ / _home_.
14 ways to sew a happy heart / seal a scar (scare, too)
1. apply ointment (liberally)
2. apply pigment (imaginary figments, too) (sparingly)
3. groom greens & gardens to germinate & grow
4. groom grief & grime to recede & plateau
5. simmer scorn and salted __tears__
6. brew corn and malted _wares__
7. document giggles & gags
8. dictate phone notes (home-grown quotes & oats, too)
9. comb thru grainy/antique wounds _photos__
10. photograph grimy/antique combs (of wide & fine teeth)
11. fish for hand-sewn patches of plaid and gingham print
12. enjoy Swedish fish flavored of cherry, lemon, & mint (Swedish massages, too)
13. engage senses of sight, might & fright
14. (dis)engage tenses of past & night
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Jen Schneider © 2021
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Jen Schneider is an educator who lives, writes, and works in small spaces throughout Pennsylvania. Recent works include A Collection of Recollections, Invisible Ink, On Habits & Habitats, and Blindfolds, Bruises, and Breakups.