inspired by a line from Gwendolyn Brooks
We real. We feel.
We rise. We loss.
We stall. We fall.
We candle. We moth.
We flag. We tune.
We plunder the moon.
We wish. We rash.
We ravage. We crash.
We cry. Retry.
Forgetful, we why.
Why? We pray.
We star. We clay.
We find. Remind.
We shed. We climb.
We slip. We heal.
We hurt. We real.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged humanness, rhyme | 1 Comment »
It’s elegant, really,
the way protein in eggs
and gluten in flour
create a structure
strong enough that when baked
will stretch without tearing
and set without leaking,
thus trapping the steam
that makes the thin batter rise.
And though it is science
and chemical reaction,
though we could write
an equation to explain it,
still the innocent glee
that rises in us
each time we peek through
the oven window and witness
the golden ballooning.
Perhaps astonishment
is the secret ingredient
when mixed with attention
that creates in us a structure
strong enough to contain
an expanding joy.
How delicious it is,
the chance to celebrate
the familiar, to find
what is marvelous
in the daily, then offer it
like bread to each other.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged astonishment, baking, popovers, science | 4 Comments »
I walk out the door and
lie on the ground and
let the earth hold me,
let the sun soak me
let breath do
what breath does.
And if there is any
part of me that doesn’t know
it is part of everything,
it is lost in the vast peace
that fills me when
everything warms
and the kingfisher flies
over my silence
with his clackclackclack
and the air smells of river
and greening grass.
It doesn’t last,
but for this small eternity,
I am what a wind is,
only more, only less.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged nature, outdoors, quiet, silence | 4 Comments »
for Eduardo Rey Brummel, on Earth Day
I walk on the long dirt road
with fat bumblebees
and dark red rocks,
not to distract myself
from you in your death room,
but to bring you with me
into this miraculous day
with it wild iris just beginning
to push through the earth
like curious green tongues
and its patch of buttercups
blooming right through me
all waxy and yellow and bright.
Far away, your heart is erratic
and your breath is slowing.
Far away you are becoming
less flesh and more mystery,
less the man who wrote
uplifting quotes on the lunch board
and more whatever it is
that drives the willows to blush,
whatever it is that causes the crows
to caw, then hush, then caw again.
You who called me Hermana,
you showed me how to be more kind,
and now you grow within me,
an essential part of my biome.
What gift more precious
do we have to offer than kindness?
I don’t know how it happens,
but the day is more beautiful
because I carry you with me—
even the thorns seem
to call for my honest attention,
even the leafless oaks,
even the dry stream bed
waiting for rain.
Dear friends,
If you know my friend Eduardo and did not yet know about his stroke and his recent blood infection, I know this is not easy news to receive. He responded to almost all of my poems here on this blog with such thoughtfulness and support. One of the most kind, generous people I have ever met.
If you would like more information, you can find it on his caring bridge.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged connection, Earth Day, eduardo rey brummel, kindness, nature | 14 Comments »
delayed on the tarmac
my inner scheduler
decides to nap
*
walking on blue cobblestones
we arrive
six hundred years ago
*
that man playing harp—
his voice opens doors
in the air
*
unsure what comes next
I translate all my worries
into purple orchid
*
best rainforest guide—
two-note song
of an unknown bird
*
decades of calamities
and triumphs
to be just another body on the beach
*
my tears unnoticed
I offer myself
a tissue, a shoulder
*
from the calendar squares
I fell with a splash
into warm blue water
*
night full of rain—
come morning light
my dreams shine
*
squeezing lime
into the ripe papaya
scooping out delight
*
in bioluminescent water
I write your name
watch the blue cursive disappear
*
picking your pocket
hoping
for a poem
*
no hard feelings, pigeon,
rumor has it
this is good luck
*
paddling to the island
drunk on blue
my eyes keep swerving
*
the way the ocean
never refuses raindrops—
learning to let in the whole world
*
back at the empanada café
hoping to fall in love again
with spinach
*
remembering with a start
nothing
is happening
*
a full moon
in my body—
all around me the tides
*
after floating in saltwater
hand in hand with my girl,
on land, still floating
*
between the missiles
and the song of the ocean
this chance to love
*
distilling the dazzling day
into three-lines
and one glass of wine
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged beach, family, haikuling, travel | 4 Comments »
Dear Friends,
I’m back with a big bouquet of short poems from my time away. Eric & Vivian and I were in Puerto Rico for a couple of weeks. What a very special place to visit. And below the poems, you’ll find a host of links to fun things that came out while I was away, plus links to a few upcoming programs. A cornucopia of joy! And now we return you to your regularly scheduled daily poems!
Deepening the Practice, Wondering What is true?
I so enjoyed my conversation with Tei Taiyarï on his program Wild Heart Revival, talking about the practice of poetry, the ever-unfolding curiosity about what is here, what is true? and how openly (and why) we might experience and share grief, wonder and love. You can watch our conversation on his site or on youtube.
*
Online Haiku Poetry Anthology
As you know, I love short poems, and I am so grateful to be a part of ONE ART’s 2024 Haiku Anthology which came out last week. I’m ever amazed at how big a feeling can come from so few words—
*
Podcast on Bittersweet Existence
Six months after Finn died, I did an interview with Jeffrey Munroe about meeting that loss. That conversation is the basis for one of nine chapters in his book Telling Stories in the Dark: Finding healing and hope in sharing our sadness, grief, trauma, and pain. This week I listened to a podcast, The Viscast, in which Jeff and the host discuss the book and for a long time my chapter. As strange as it was to hear people talk about my life, I was grateful to listen in on their conversation about grief, connection and a powerful question, Are we able to live beyond “All will be well.”
*
Your Broken-Open Heart: Bereaved Mother’s Day Gathering
with Mirabai Starr, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer and Claudia Love Mair
Sunday, May 5, 11 a.m.-12:30 p.m. mountain time
Maybe this season of Mother’s Day is a painful trigger for you, leaving you feeling isolated and out-of-step. This gathering is for you if you are …
-Missing a child who has died (or is estranged)
-Missing a mother who has died (or is estranged)
-Feeling alienated from the rest of society as they celebrate Mother’s Day
-A sense that you are doing something wrong to be sad at a time of celebration
-Wondering if you’re ever going to “get over” your loss
To register or for more information, visit here
*
A Short Video on “Hope” for Scholastic
I was so thrilled when Scholastic invited me to read my poem “Hope” for their October/November 23 issue (a poem found in All the Honey) .. and just found out there is a shareable link for it! Please share it with any young folks you know–or use it for your own inspiration to write a poem about a feeling–any feeling!
*
Secret Agents of Change Secret Mission: Mamma Mia
Wednesday, April 24th
7:30- 8:30am PDT (8:30-9:30am MDT, 9:30-10:30am CDT, and 10:30-11:30am EDT
(Shhhhh) Hey friend. Wanna spread surreptitious kindness? Yeah, you. Wanna be a part of creating unexpected joy? Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer and Sherry Richert Belul invite you to participate in this oh-so-important mission on , and we hope you’ll don your agent’s badge and join us. If you haven’t joined us before, or if you have friends you think would enjoy these kinds of missions, please have them sign up here: https://simplycelebrate.net/secret-agents-of-change. The more the merrier! We will notify everyone via email when the next Operation launches!
There are two ways to participate in our April 24th Mission:
1. Join Live when we announce the mission!
Join a live Zoom call with Rosemerry and Sherry on Wednesday morning and we’ll not only share a poem and announce the mission, but we will also have some time to connect and share ideas. Think of it like a Secret Agent Social Club!
2. Join via Replay or Reading the Prompt in Our FB Group!
We will post the prompt in our Secret Agents Facebook Group. You can participate any time following the mission reveal.
No matter which way you participate, you’ll report back in our Facebook Group to let us know how your mission went. (It can be that day or anytime you complete your mission!)
You matter! Your participation is important to us! We LOVE your stories of missions-accomplished. How to join the live call on Thursday, April 24th:
Topic: Secret Agents Mission!
Time: Apr 24, 2024 07:30 AM Pacific Time (US and Canada)
Join Zoom Meeting
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/7635217763?pwd=Ukw4VjB1UGR5OXFUbW1RVmVrVlJEUT09&omn=89672380140
Meeting ID: 763 521 7763
Passcode: love
If you appreciate receiving these free daily poems, please consider offering support through Buy Me a Coffee, venmo (rosemerry-trommer) or zelle (rosemerryt@gmail.com)
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
970-729-1838 website: wordwoman.com
daily poetry app for your phone: The Poetic Path
weekly podcast on creative process: Emerging Form
TEDx talk: The Art of Changing Metaphors: TEDX Rosemerry Trommer
poetry album on “endarkenment”: Dark Praise
Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »
Every April I take two weeks off from posting poetry so I can be with my family in an uninterrupted way. I will still write daily poems–so at the end of two weeks you’ll get over a dozen small poems in a single post! And then the poems will appear again daily. In the meantime, I don’t want to leave you poem-less! You can always find poems new poems by exploring the blog–there are thousands here! Dive in! Or, if you want, for a small fee you can listen to daily poems and suggestions for writing on my curated audio program The Poetic Path, found (on your phone only) on the Ritual app.
In any case, I wish you joy this Spring and I will return to daily emails with lots of poems in two weeks.
love,
Rosemerry
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments »
with thanks to Dante
Gluttony stumbles in, four shots of tequila past tipsy.
It’s easy when he’s drooling and raging
to put my hand over my own glass of wine
and tell him I’ve had enough. But he’s so charming
in the beginning when he’s giggly and flirty,
when his walls come down and he’s chatty
and generous. That’s when I hand him my glass, too,
and fall in love again with the taste of grapes
that have been warmed by sun and turned potent
by time and I feel in me the sweet flutter of opening.
Sometimes Temperance arrives with her face
contorted, lips tight and prudish. I tend to ignore her then.
But oh—when she enters that opening space
with her sober smile, eyes clear as a mountain stream.
Sweetheart, she says to me, what do you really want?
There is a moment, then, when I reach in two directions—
one toward light-headed shine, one toward grounded earth.
I am learning to love that moment, when I hold hands
with both of these teachers at once and we move together
three steps forward one step back, the ancient dance
of the middle road, ever changing as it is.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged dante, Gluttony, Moderation, Purgatory, Temperance | 6 Comments »
The quiet is best. Then
one might hear what is
strung too loose, too tight,
how the voicing is not
quite right. Not so long ago,
the tuner brought
this same instrument back
to true. But there is no failure.
that the instrument
went out of tune.
That’s is simply
what instruments do—
go sharp, go flat,
they waver until
once again the temperament
is set and then
song is what a life does—
we feel it the change
in every note—
oh the bliss of being in tune
with ourselves and
with every other instrument.
Then no matter how old
we are, we are new.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged music, recalibration, soul | 5 Comments »
She’s always ready to run to the rescue,
trained in putting out housefires,
wildland fires, grease fires, electrical fires.
Explosions? She’s prepared to vent,
quench, flank and set up a collapse zone.
Child swallowed a ring?
She arrives in minutes.
Accident on the street? She’s pulling on
her uniform before the call is over.
She’s saved me thousands of times.
She’s always been like this—
keen to fix any problem. Capable. Strong.
I’m stunned by her abs, her biceps,
her focus as she goes where she’s needed.
Who could blame her for wanting
to put out this fire that’s been flaring
in me for almost three years.
Please, I say, don’t put it out.
It just needs to burn.
She eyes me strangely.
But it’s taking down whole structures,
she says. I nod.
Whole structures, I agree.
So much I knew is now ash.
But—she says, extinguisher in hand.
Please, I say. It’s okay if it all comes down.
I’m thinking of how much more I can see
as unnecessary things I’ve built submit.
It is in her to fix. To save. To make things better
in the way she knows how.
But she is learning to trust me in this
as I am learning to trust the wisdom of flame.
She shakes her head and walks away.
I watch as the fire continues to blaze.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged fire, grief, inner conflict, loss, trust | 22 Comments »