Sin Washing

Water can be ugly when you sorrow.

Water can be cruel when you lie.

Water can save you, if you’re

honest with your cry.

Confessed my guilt to the river,

poured tears in muddy waves.

Mixed heartbreak with the flood,

begged mercy for bringing blood.

Sullen river took me under

only to pull me back up.

Water sat on my tongue…Water pooled in my eyes.

Water went deep in my spirit to tell me

it was my time to thrive.

I didn’t need a Bible…I didn’t need a priest.

Took my sins to the river and muddy water brought release.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Wordy Weekend Mini-Challenge ~ Messages in Water

American Predators

The dark half of the narrows,

the space where fair game

is the sick definition of

the secrets men keep,

predators play dead.

In a black wind strike the brethren

of skin trade resurrect from shadows

to chain innocence to horror.

Along the edge of America true evil

shape-shifts through penthouse to city street

growing wealth from a graveyard of fallen angels.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Artistic Interpretations with Margaret

These are the book titles I chose from Margaret's list to create my poem:

True Evil 

The Dark Half

Fair Game

Play Dead

Skin Trade

The Secrets Men Keep

Black Wind

The Narrows

Fallen Angels

Along the Edge of America

Straddling the Divide

Anger/Fear…

I sit astride

an emotional fence

trying to stay me

in a war of words

no one can win.

In red white and blue America

bruising is the new normal.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Just One Word: Halved

The Storm in My Muse ~ Four American Sentences

Thunder vibrates my window, I sort through poetry books

to respond.

The gravel in my throat tastes like fear regurgitated from the moon.

It’s hard to write about rainbows when all your ink is black fading to gray.

Hail stones harass oak leaves until they surrender to the stone toss.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Wednesday Muse: American Sentence

The Incarceration of Glitter

Photographer: Cole Keister

He likes her wrapped

around his arm…

a glitter trinket to insure

he’s got the flash  to attract

a murder of paparazzi.

She smiles through

the snap storm praying

someone will hear the

scream in her eyes.

A cage is a cage...

Whether gold or steel,

it jails broken wings.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Just One Word ~ Trinket

Born From Feathers

Chernobog and Belobog

@anarh1a

Used With Permission

There was nothing before wings

but empty sky and solemn earth.

Unity grew from light and dark

until life feathered its way into being.

All was well until humans sprang

from dust to claim color.

In the senseless swagger tongue

of dominion the gift of Gods

became the battlefield of religions.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Art Flash/55

The art is the work of Russian artist, Anarh1a. You can explore more of her art work on Instagram: @anarh1a

Sass Comes in Waves

Photo Artistry by Erik Johansson Master Photo-manipulation Artist

I’ll carry my bucket of tears

to the beach so I can bury his name

in the hottest part of August.

There’s always a blues song

splashing against the sky

where water dances in sighs.

Not everything’s ugly in the moan,

sass comes in waves to drop

a little hell in the spray so

the dead of night won’t be lonely.

Misery loves harmony, but

she won't like it when

I won’t let her sing the chorus.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

The Sunday Muse #61