I am A Poet

This is not the love poem I planned to write.
I began with the best of intentions.
But last night, we thought we’d catch the evening news
to see if anything important had happened,
and every station was showing Youtube clips
of inconsequential garbage that didn’t matter a bit.
And then, this morning, the lead headline on CNN read,
Fewer homeless, a Bush legacy!

I cannot write your love poem... read more

A Sense of Sourdough
This began as a recipe for my blog, then became a poem. Is it a recipe? Is it a poem? …
More

The Amazing COVID 19 Magic Show
The Amazing COVID 19 Magic Show by Jeeni Criscenzo, March 4, 2020 Quicker than the eye, you fling your cape …
More

Breakfast in Bed
Opening my eyes to exit the stage of an instantly forgotten dream, I find myself at the edge of the …
More

It’s Okay to Feel this Way
In a recent visit to my doctor, I thought about telling her how extremely sad I am and that I …
More

So Began the Last Chance Decade
Ten years, that’s a conservative estimate, a window where we can still impact the fate of planet earth. A window …
More

Triptych
Sixteen Remember feeling invincible. Indestructible. The cautions of elders slid off your ears, unheard. Carlos Hernandez, of the indigenous Guatemalan …
More

A Nice White Principal without Principles
Twenty years you’ve dedicated your career to them, the kids in Southeast. What a hero you are, being there for …
More
Hawk's Tree in Tecolote canyon

Nobody’s Right, If Everybody’s Wrong
A murder of crows caw out of key (or so it seems to me) from their perches on the Jacaranda …
More

The Little Girl in the Lime-Green Jumper
A little girl, in a bright, lime-green jumper, stole the show tonight. Her mama was playing the jarana and singing …
More

Just Three Doors Down
We live just three doors down from the sea of inhumanity, always close to the possibility that we are sixty …
More

The Hearing
I watched him,  like an elk exposed on the plains,  spotting a lion in the grass,  hair standing at attention …
More

The Stroke of His Pen
I’m too bone weary to keep doing this work over and over again, when it’s so easily undone by a …
More
The tents in texas desert with immigrant children who have been torn from their parents are being held.

Sea of Beige
by Jeeni Criscenzo June 2018 When his red t-shirt fades, in the desert sun, to blend into this sea of …
More

Fault Line Park
Sitting here talking philosophically, about the fin of humanity, in the throes of a heat wave, shaded by the Pinnacles of Fault Line Park. One has to ask, does …
More

Empathy
Spinning her web, a wisp, a hair, a thread, flings from her matted head and I watch helplessly as her …
More

Coming Together – Falling Apart
Is it all coming together, or all falling apart? I can’t tell anymore. I came with love, but can’t find …
More

The Miracle
The Miracle By Jeeni Criscenzo, Jan. 20, 2017 The face in the mirror was astonishing! Visibly aged from the face …
More

Ice Walking
We learned to walk on ice. To see it when it seemed not there. To put one foot carefully down, …
More

Sleepless
I have not actually slept since that long night when astonished reporters went off script, as we watched one incomprehensible …
More

Convergence at the Border
Performed 10/24/18 at World Stage Performance Ctr. Los Angeles as the kick-off for the publication of Extreme, where this poem …
More

Sore Loser
Sore losers! you sneer, because they question the way the game was played? Cheaters! they cry, because it just doesn’t …
More

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.