Update: Outings + Micropoems

Here are some micropoems to start off your week. Feel free to follow me on Twitter to read more. Make sure you check out the hosts of these lovely poetry prompt pages as well. There are so many talented writers to read and if you are stumped for inspiration, it is graciously provided for you in the hopes of getting your creativity flowing.

I don’t have much to update about right now. My husband and I had a fun outing at Tivoli Village Saturday morning. We had breakfast at the Waffle Bar and did a little shopping at the Farmer’s Market. It was good to get out for a little bit. I’ll be visiting my doctor again tomorrow so hopefully we can talk about some more pain management options.

I’ve been reading ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, writing for OctPoWriMo, editing a lot of old work, indulging in pumpkin flavored goodies and horror movies, all while pacing myself so I don’t get too tuckered out.

Please keep Las Vegas in your hearts and prayers. I’m learning what it’s like to be so close to a mass tragedy tonight. I’m seeing the age of misinformation at its worst too and it’s hard to find words about exactly what I’m feeling right now. It’s been hours. I live here. I don’t know what’s going on really still. It’s unnerving. I can’t stop crying and praying. I hate feeling like my fear wins in moments like this.

Hug the people you love. Tell them you love them. Be grateful for all you have. Be understanding and compassionate. If you can’t, stay silent. Ask for help. Find your empathy. It’s there.





Poetry whispers
beneath the cacophony,

resting in silence,
waiting for me;

A strong voice
patient through the noise



Far away
I followed you,

through your
desert heat hell

right to
your fields
of dark wishes,

now covered
with glistening snow



dusk fell
on the last rose
of the season
on the sill
of the old house
we left behind

it’s only in my mind,
that forgotten time



I bathe in rose oil

I wear the illusion of a dead saint

I fall asleep inhaling petals

My skin burns like martyr fire

I dream of seraphim


My nokomis
would weave love
into all of her bead work

The loom taught patience,
my clumsy little fingers,
& when to step away



I didn’t ask for the vision,
it came to me

Through my uncle,
of winter,
under gathering moon

We saw the future
blanketed in snow



Lily, off white,
pastel reflection, a newly
laid egg, a bride of sighs

Silent screams, born of deceit, truth lies
in onyx eyes




© Jennifer Patino (2017)

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