Poetry by Jennifer D. Wade
I Never Said It was Good....

In the beginning ...

... there was an English major who thought that a course called Poetry Writing fit nicely into that list of courses known to Juniatians as a Program of Emphasis.  Here, you will find some of the not so good poems and some of the slightly better ones that were written for that course.  You will also find a few poems written after the course ended.  Some poems you will never see because they burned in the Great Moving Van Fire of '03.  The poems that remain, I'm putting here, in cyberspace, just in case.

Tide on the Turn

Tide on the turn:

Half-past morning.

Had to tell time that way.

Batteries in my watch stopped.

Couldn't get new ones.

Damn guards.

Couldn't depend on the sun, neither.

Didn't bother to show most of the time.

When it did put in an appearance,

Had to look like an orange in a chip shop:

Remind me what I was missing.

Filled the whole window.

Couldn't see nothing

Except that damn orange.

It's in front of me again.

I can see blue sky and white clouds.

Half-past morning.

Tide on the turn.


(September 1987)


Roses growing:

neither bending,

nor intertwining;

forming not the perfect arch;


twisting and turning,

blooming different colors,

   following different paths

   shooting to the sun.


(December 4, 1987)

Everything Causes Cancer

Heat from my burning cigarette

Warms my face as I draw it near.

I inhale a long drag,

Relax, think about tomorrow.


Softball practice.


Senior meetings.









My cigarette has burned to the end:

My fingers are yellow;

The glow is gone;

The butt is cold.


(October 26, 1987)