Here is a small selection of my published poems. I hope you enjoy reading them!

There are the Words; And There are the Spaces
There are the words,
and there are the spaces.

I live in the spaces.

I dwell in the dimension,
where letters face each other
like wooden soldiers;
     Over a seemingly empty chasm of paper.

But the chasm is not empty.

Life exists in the spaces;
In the places between,
that appear to be blank.

I live in these spaces—
(Neither black, nor white)
where creed—where logic—
Have no influence.

Life exists in these places.

Creed cannot reach here; logic does not take root.
Both are confined to the spread of the letters,
contained by the letters—

I live in these spaces.
There are other beings, too.

Here exists the ‘other’ that wears no labels;
Here lay the thoughts that should be law,
but can’t be quantified with words.
Here lives the swirling, fertile, potential—
The morass of ideas cast aside;
     and those becoming.

But they will not be given form.

They cannot be given form—

Unless letters are gathered together,
and these ideas encased within,
     and words created.

(And how beautiful these words can be!
How lofty the ideals they embody!
But something is lost in translation…
Dreams can’t retain their essence,
when ladled from that bubbling cauldron
     Of possibility;
Can’t be as they were
when enclosed in the tailored suits and slacks; 
Jackets and ties that are the letters—
The letters that make the words,
which need the spaces.) 

It is chaos here—granted…

A controlled chaos.

But the spaces between the words 
have their own rules;
Are governed by their very design.

And without those spaces,
the letters would have no form.

Without these places,
there would be no beginnings;
     And endings would have no meaning.

- Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, 2013

Goblin Goes to School

He wears his oddness like a cape
wraps it 'round himself for comfort,
Because this is what he knows…
And on the night before that first day
he wondered about his classmates;
Do they eat snails and worms for breakfast?

He thought about his green skin
about his warty nose and hairy ears...
Do human children have one eyebrow, too?
Do they languish in the safe embraces
of their mothers' moss-colored arms?
Do they tickle their fathers' furry necks?

(He hopes the human children will be kind,
and not throw mud like sprites did at the last school;
They were pretty, but not very nice.)

The Goblin's sister said, “We'll move again...
Our folk do not stay still for long.
This tunnel that we sleep in is temporary.”
Then she turned her leaf-green back to him,
and moved toward her own sleeping rock;
Older sisters can be such a pain!

He curled up around his pet rat
and stuck a pale moist thumb in his mouth.
He thought about his goblin shoes…
How they sense his mood and dance with delight
Or kick the shins and behinds of his tormentors…
The first day of school is always hard.

- Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, 2010

The Lies Parents Tell

She’d always said, “monsters aren’t real”
to comfort me when I called in the night.
She’d say,

“Ghosts don’t exist” and she’d
tweak my nose and chuckle and
call me Casper.

(Who is Casper, anyway?)

But now I know parents lie.

I sit in the fearful dark, try to recall
her face; and hush and croon to Johnny.
I say,

“Be still, don’t cry” and call him
baby; even though I’m only ten
and he is eight.

(Monsters are real.)

I’ve seen them storm through churches;
tear babies from their mothers
to snap their fat arms with
red-stained teeth.

How I wish she hadn’t lied, all
those months ago! “Sshhh, Johnny,” I say,
“if they hear you,

they’ll come and eat you.”

- Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, 2011

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