Adam Penna (10 Poems)

A series of 10 sonnets by Adam Penna up at Underfoot today.
Poems full of the sound of wind, natural & fresh, full of hope & exhilaration at the small mercies that come from pure observance of the minor joys in life.
You know what to do dear reader.

& an update. Go & read our Chapbook Confessions guidelines in the menu bar if you’re interested in offering your sagely advice & experience from publishing a chapbook or collection, along with poems from that chapbook. All the details are there, but if you have any questions you can email us, which is provide there.
I hope to hear from you soon.

Underfoot Poetry

How to Worship

Today, a thousand fallen leaves: some yellow,
some red, some green, some circling the trees.
They teach us how to worship, and the wind—
it lifts the worshippers. It whips them up.
They seem hysterical with happiness.
I am hysterical with happiness.
The sun shines on my head and on my hands.
It touches the whiteness of the page. Meanwhile,
inside, outside and everywhere, my friends
and people I have never met or known,
contribute to the tumult. Let’s make an aisle,
and, stepping through the happy congregation,
cradle the grocerybags, search for the keys,
and wipe our feet before we enter the house.


The Happiness of Trees

I don’t want to instruct. I want to be
instructed by trees, loosed of leaves and leavings.
I go, step over the threshold and out into the yard.
Already my arms swing overhead. And you,
watching from the stoop…

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Comfort Girl Soliloquy

Sometime ago, not long after we opened the guesthouse a Korean American fella & two women he was working with visited me. They were working on an art project to raise awareness & address the horror experienced by comfort women during the Japanese occupation of Korea. They told me a little about what they went [...]

Power Soliloquy

Been in Seoul where there is a never staunched flood of power in innumerable manifestations; so this poem seems a fitting expression of the contrast in power between city & country, though it doesn't directly deal with that, this is an abstract expression of what power stands for to me. This sonnet is the closest [...]

dead Jindo soliloquy

Daniel Paul Marshall

i hope Tim Miller at wordandsilence doesn’t mind that i quote his long poem To the House of the Sun in a sonnet about a dead Jindo?

Dead Jindo Soliloquy

Maggots dripping from its black
mouth like molten Bramley oozing from a split in pastry.
A white hire car likely hit it: 99% more traffic
accidents in 2016— this poor Jindo won’t make
statistic. Maggots waste not want not. i turn to my
dog & say, this body too will look like that
it is not exempt from that fate
i quote from scripture: Miller, HOS, Book 24:1.
She’s ill at ease, her eyes & tail tell all.

The corpse has many lessons, wants so little,
gives flesh & sinew to the dust or hungry animals,
its stiff tongue never argues, only lolls
in mockery of fretting that the living deal

—the breathlessly anxious are the joke of the…

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god soliloquy

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weed puller’s soliloquy

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pace soliloquy

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