#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “We Always Wear Pajamas on Saturdays”





We Always Wear Pajamas on Saturdays // by Jennifer Patino


sunshine specks

catching dust

and reflections,

magnified introspection

of busy bees

in pajamas on a Saturday,

twirling and whirling

around with their brooms


for the morning chores

are never a bore

when pianos twinkle

fleeting notes,

clever anecdotes

about the week’s

piled up junk mail


dishes beg to dance,

the floor mops take a chance,

then the old house settles,

clean and serene,

sparkling tabletops,

walls that shine,

and a scent of love

that is yours and mine


take a break,

relax awhile,

take a deep, fresh breath,

cozy up and smile


November 14, 2009



This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.




#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “Prescribed”





Prescribed // by Jennifer Patino


it’s a meat puppet game / they’re playing / with my head / my brain / my feelings / but I must not surrender my soul //

horse pills / followed by the little red pills / don’t forget to take your pills / i won’t / don’t hurt yourself / i won’t / do you feel like hurting yourself? / i won’t answer / any side effects? //

dizziness / nausea / inducing while ingesting / my hands are shaking / i’m not eating / but my clothes aren’t fitting / i’m not trying to say you’re fat but, you’re definitely not skinny anymore / eat more this / don’t eat that / forget what i just said because things have changed now //


take more blood / blow more veins /
does it hurt? / this might hurt / tell me if it hurts //


they mean when


lost / brave / strong, but fading / candle wick burning low / it’s almost dawn / where has sleep gone? / i think this may be a vicious nightmare / a torturous punishment for an old crime / but it’s not / because it’s too real / it’s just too cruel / and too real


August 21, 2010



This writer is a member of The Literati Mafia.



#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “Wrapped in Paleness: A Conversation”





Wrapped in Paleness: A Conversation // by Jennifer Patino


I sit


with the trees and

the night frogs

for they truly

answer back.


I think

of the good

times mixed with

bad and how acceptance

has taught me that

both are what

life is.


I imagine

you and I

on clouds

floating through

stormy weather

and overcoming

every time.


I see how the

moon wraps the

sky in a color

only close to that

of paleness,

but I feel

only brightness

like your smile

in the summer

when the breeze

warms, but in

a good way.


I wish

you were here

to share this

moment of pure


and being,

but, you can guarantee,

I’ll dream

of you tonight

as my eyes close

in restful peace.


July 4, 2008



#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “The Gale”





The Gale // by Jennifer Patino


This rainstorm looks like a gale,

and I’m on the deck of my ship

staring out into all of the grey-ness,

but I remain dry on my covered front porch,

taking in the anger of the town


There is a hint of drug use in this town


A car cuts another off and I hear furious honking,

so I’m wondering what the purpose behind “laying on the horn” is,

I’m remembering how I once succumbed to its

passive aggressive nonsense in a near-death experience

a careless driver caused me to have


A couple starts fighting in the parking lot

of the convenience store across the street

just to prove my point,

that anger is the electricity keeping this place running


I start thinking about walking around

in the rain with my childhood friends,

I had a fear of manhole covers,

I never walked over them,

Sewers, we called them


Why?” one of them asked me,

He always thought he was so smart,

and I said, shyly and awkwardly,

Well, I uh…– heard there was sparkling electricity down there that might…

There’s just water! Water and electricity don’t mix! The whole world would blow up!

I accepted it


Now, at 27 I stare at the power lines dripping with water,

and the world is slowly blowing up


Maybe there is electricity running beneath us

and not quite enough water to put out our own fires,

so that’s why I prefer to keep my ship docked these days,

safe in the harbor,

for sea-worthy, I am not


August 25, 2010



#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “Kate Winslet”


katewinsletPhoto Courtesy of Cosmopolitan UK



Kate Winslet // by Jennifer Patino



You don’t really want to
stay here with the women,
do you?” Loud, obnoxious
pig-laughter. Her eyes
widen in “I-told-you-so”.

The way her head turns
to look him dead in the
eye after he slaps her.

The inflection in her voice
when she screams at her
mother to shut up.

Her tears on the edge
of the boat when she wants
to give up.



A scowl amongst the
rosy faced choir steals
your heart.
Your little tongue behind
the teacher’s back steals hers.
Giggling, gorgeous grand
Creative, controlling high
Your defiance defines you.
You numb your tears with
visions of a magical

Folie à deux— you bring her too.
Frollicking, fancy and free.


The way your head turns
the day you leave the hospital
and you kiss her and
then kiss your father. He
appears disgusted.

Your screams of separation,
your murderous ambition,
how you would do anything
for love.

How you straighten your
skirt and put your hair
behind your ears repeatedly.
Nervous. Adrenaline. You would
tear that napkin to shreds
if it weren’t made of thick cloth.

You sing as you bash
that woman’s head
in so you won’t have
to feel just how heavy
that brick is or
just how fucked up this
whole plan is.

Your screams of separation grow louder.



Now you have “come with me
eyes. A bindi on your forehead.
You’ve found yourself,
so your family plans your

You can cry now and it
isn’t enough for them.


Exiting is a precious exercise,” Harvey Keitel says.


Embodiment of girl rock.
In a sari.
You oughta know’ that this
is me, mum.

He’ll straighten you out, girlie.”
Your happiness is a threat
and a crime. They strip
you of your garments and
remind you they love you.
You scream family secrets
in response.

The Halfway Hut.
The mind is a rebel.
It is no servant.
This man thinks giving a blowjob
is a cure for
a panic attack.
Keep breathing.

And he breaks you
and you give yourself
to him covered in
your own piss.
This is how you get
your control back:
By dressing him in your dress
and make-up and helping
him see you see him.

Be kind, Kate.
Be kind.



Later on you’re so
abusive toward Jim Carrey
but we give you a pass.
We forgive you
because we see all
you’ve been through. And
your rainbow colored
hair is just too adorable.
We all see who we want
to be in you even when
you’re mean and



Next, you’re a mother.
Such a good mother you
are too. Your children
throw tantrums after
you die. And that is
what does it, Kate.
After all you’ve lived through,
all you’ve survived,
it’s motherhood that finally kills you.



Then in some futuristic
dystopian afterlife
you’re resurrected.
But you’re so evil
and even more controlling
that we have to keep
hoping that you’ll just
die again already.
How many times will
my love for you live
and die again, Kate
Winslet?      For how

You even yelled at Leo once

(but he deserved it).

He’ll never get you, Kate.
I’ll never get you, Kate.
I’m just watching you
degrade all these leading
men on the side of the
road from the window of
a passing car
with too bright headlights
that you can’t even see.

You do this with your
mere presence.
No one can hold a
spotlight to you.

My head turns this time,
but it can’t turn far
away from
every little thing you do.


I made some revisions to one of my favorite poems I’ve ever written. I write a lot about different movies, I’m just not always so obvious about it. This one was originally drafted on June 8, 2016. Special thanks to Kate Winslet, Titanic, Heavenly Creatures, Holy Smoke!, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Finding Neverland, Divergent, & Revolutionary Road for providing inspiration.




#FlashbackFriday – Poetry – “Symphony”


Symphony // by Jennifer Patino


There are those

who pray by the glow of

the kitchen light


in the coverlets of billows,

the moon beaming bright


The sky – a direct

reflection of God


The night – birds call,

the moth’s wings answer


A melody;




An answered sigh,

the desert’s bitter breath


The chill, welcomed

because it makes them


feel alive,

warm inside


They can hear the stars twinkling,

eyes of the angels winking


There are those who smile

in the dark

for they are never

really alone,

in tune with

nature’s music,


they make it

their own


Each note of life, a gift,

every being in rhythm

to uplift


Blessed ones, chosen,

singing silently to themselves


Content, unafraid,

because now they are safe


Love lives in their eyes,

faith is felt in their cries


Wisdom is found

where the true self lies


May 13, 2014