No Place to Hide

Her eyes can kill, or so they say.

There’s nowhere to hide when her

green eyes collide with secrets

before they can pool on the tongue.

It doesn’t matter how deep in your bones

you bury what shouldn’t be known, Trysis

can see what shouldn’t be sung.

A needle for pain, a knife for lost.

Ponder what you will…Prepare for the cost.

An eye for an eye…She’ll always win.

There’s no shield for where, no protection from when.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Trysis is a fictional name I conjured from the prompt. :)

Physics With Bjorn ~ Radiation

The Valley of the Sky

Leave by the same door

you tore from hinges,

spill rumor, feed snakes.

My life is not yours to barter,

nor is it yours to take.

It doesn’t matter how close

you dance me to the cliff,

blood will never clip my wings.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Real Toads ~ Micro Poetry ~ It Doesn't Matter

Moon Straw

Let me drink hope from your lips,

taste life while it still drinks

romance through a moon straw.

Optimism hangs on a crucifix

of barbed tongues while devils sing

the what about -isms of another’s evil.

If night must rage, let its rage escape

along my skin…Let me breathe resurrection

before I succumb to ashes.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Friday 55 ~ 06/22/2018

Shallow End of Caffeine

“Meals make the society, hold the fabric together in lots of ways that were charming and interesting and intoxicating to me. The perfect meal, or the best meals, occur in a context that frequently has very little to do with the food itself.” Anthony Bourdain

This chipped coffee cup

was your favorite.

You liked its imperfections,

its history, broken pieces

glued by conversations..

life.. humanity.. miles.

You’d grin…Lift your cup

and joke it was impossible to break

something that couldn’t be fixed.

Hindsight is a blunt companion.

I swam the shallow end

of caffeine unaware

I was watching you drown.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Friday 55 ~ 6/8/18

The I of the Storm

I storm through May

with prayers howling

across my tongue.

There are few answers

to my questions, little solace

in climbing agony.

Weak, but rooted in dandelions,

I gather every seed of resurrection

to lift me out of darkness.

I mortar another brick

on the wall of hope

wondering why rocks crumble

in silent wails.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2018

The dandelion represents healing and the ability to rise above life's challenges. 

My daughter, Dawn, definitely possesses the dandelion spirit to thrive in adversity.

Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform

Cinnamon Truth

I always stayed quiet

when winter came

to the kitchen.

I never knew what sin

would open the library

to mama’s grudges,

but the kettle bang

on the stove signaled

frost would be served

with the mashed potatoes.

I learned early it was best

to not stray from the cinnamon

truth in silence is golden.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Friday 55 ~ 5/11/2018

Ohio

It won’t happen again until it will.

How much second will kill first?

Chaos keeps fuel in gaslighting’s wick.

Stapled into standing up

when the liar gets new verbs

memory sings like the 60’s and frets

about history that’s never learned.

Cataract flower children tell stories

to ears that won’t listen… four died in Ohio.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Friday 55