Saturday, June 30, 2018

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. :)

Saturday, June 23, 2018

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

Friday, June 22, 2018

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

Saturday, June 9, 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

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

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.

Saturday, May 12, 2018

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

Friday, May 4, 2018


Image result for kent state

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