1-Minute Poetry

Creativity Faster Than You Can Think

From Valerie Tutson

Val Tutson is an amazing story teller who lives in Rhode Island.

You are a part of
A great lineage
You are a child of
Earth Mother
Star Source
Above All
Trust in the magic
and the mystery
that is
Beyond MIND
Trust in the power
of the Universe
and the Love
of the Ancestors
to make miracles
Step into Joy daily
You are not alone.

A Votre Santé

These few moments of quiet
Gone as fast as pen passes
Are sacred
Hold meaning
Give life

You must remember to take them
Morning, noon, and night
For complete spiritual health

Your Scarf

The tassels of your scarf
Dangle from the chair
Where you flung it.
I can tell you flung it

But cannot know if it was
Anger, disgust, or joyous abandon
That animated your arm.

Was that yesterday
Or have a thousand years gone by
Since you left?

It’s all the same
Without you
Is eternity.


I’ve learned
to write dates
History moves around
Unless you pin it down
with numbers
And even then
Memory adds twists and turns
Placing events (out of love
or desperation)
Where they could not belong
But will now forever live

A Blank Page

A blank page
is possibilities
terror or delight
both wait for pen to unleash them
Behind white space
jungles and castles
Between lines
photons and governments
Layer upon layer
of plots and intuitions
characters and candies
planets and underwear
the meaning of life
the mundane

Dark Days

The dark days are upon us
The crows and I don’t mind.
They blend into the monochrome of grays and blacks
Happy to fly and eat regardless of weather.

I blend into the solitude and spaces of my life
Happy for silence
For yellow bananas in a bowl
For breath and History and stories.

Red Rock

When I close my eyes
I see burial grounds
Red rock weathered by centuries into pattterns

Ceremonies put things in place
Bodies, bones, cultures

Stones speak to me
And remind me to honor what is
Pay attention
Hold the moment dear

Histories disappear like wind
Scattering the sand of red rock.


This is from Janet Hodkinson of Gibsons, BC and came from her work with 1-Minute Poetry.


The word does not end.
The vowel sound could go on and on,
Had you breath to sustain it.

The word matches the concept, the state of being.
If you were free from consonants,
Sounds of a finite nature, having no forward momentum,
Possibilities could be endless,
Had you breath to sustain them.

On the other hand,
Consonants allow for a fresh start.
Sometimes there needs to be an ending,
A ‘d’ or ‘t’ or ‘ng’,
To give you freedom to breathe again.

September 2011


The thin membrane between the worlds
is no barrier to you

Memories float through me
as easily as you float through dimensions

Your face resides on hundreds
you pass me daily in the streets

Often you laugh with me from another’s mouth
or drift by on a fragrant breeze

The pain of having you in splinters
surpassed only by not having you

Make Poetry

To make a poem
From the detritus of the day
Is not fair to Poetry
Poetry deserves dawn
The energy of possibilities
Poetry deserves attention
Not the lingering guilt of relegation
Poetry is not demanding
But would love to be first in your life

Not for Poetry’s sake
For yours

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