Friday, June 26, 2020

Dreamless Moon



The air is thick with empty.

Windowpanes wink with passing cars,
but no one stops to read my lips anymore.

I live in a burnt candle moon 
where arms atrophy 
from the loss of touch.

I’m words on a screen, a photograph, 
a video wading through pretend trying
to trust I’ll reach flesh and blood.

©Susie Clevenger 2020

Monday, June 22, 2020

The Wolf Howls in Red

I screamed into the wind,

“Give me your worst,

 bits of hell

purchased with a liar’s tongue.


The storm is always with me

even when the moon

tangles my hair with dreams.”


 I was born in the womb

of a dead valentine,

a loveless lullaby hummed

through the throat of delirium. 

 

Today is another matchstick

on the bonfire I breathe,

the scar chasing me with

its knife I won’t let cut me.

 

I will be strong even if I fall.

Every weakness in me will find

its shaman to pulse my spirit

with survival.


 ©Susie Clevenger 2020

I was inspired by the image and a thunderstorm. 

The Sunday Muse #113


Saturday, June 6, 2020

Not for Sale


My eyes aren’t servants

of diamonds nor does

my hand owe allegiance

to glitter.

 

If you wish to capture my heart,

pour your soul into charity.

 

I’m not a mannequin

to be gilded with your arrogance.  


©Susie Clevenger 2020 

Saturday, May 30, 2020

Prejudiced Tunnel of Dead Ears



Swallow your wings…
forget the madness of freedom…
the sky will never remember your name.

In the prejudiced tunnel of dead ears
cries for justice are smothered
in the throat press of violence.

We shall overcome sings in tattered notes
as history repeats, and anger lights another match.

How will this end? How will this end when
white is the darkness that measures a soul’s
value by the color of skin.

©Susie Clevenger 2020

Inspired by a Word Crafters Writing Group

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Fool's Fruit

Proserpine ~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti 

A fool bears the fruit of a heart
sacrificed to the arms of stone.
Promised love I endure his eyes gorging
on the pale skin of another woman’s blush.

Pruned to be a silent rose, I am a wraith
cast out to roam a smothered wail
where nothing grows but sorrow and anger’s thistle.

But my lips reject the dirge humming in my throat.
Must my spirit die in the hope of resurrection?
It was not my mirror that failed his eyes, but his
that hungered for youth he could no longer conquer.

For now, I dress in midnight’s sapphire, a shadow
formed from the dark side of the moon.
When night frees me to roam sunlight’s match,
I will dance on flames that burn him from my dreams.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2020

Inspired by Dante Gabriel Rossetti's painting and his sister, 
Christina Georgina Rossetti's poem, After Death

The video is the new release from my friend Samantha Fish.

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Lies Aren't Dessert


Romancing a lie
curled on venom’s tongue
is like bringing dead flowers
to celebrate birth.

What’s sewn is reaped.
What’s torn is scarred.

Sprinkling sugary apologies on deceit
won’t make deception any less bitter.  

©Susie Clevenger 2020


Thursday, April 30, 2020

Nest of Lungs


Contagion’s nest of lungs
built from hissing tubes
and needles’ plunge was April’s
test of death to see if tears
could still bring flowers to May.

©Susie Clevenger 2020

#napowrimo2020 Day 30
Inspired by: #skyloverwordlist - deaths