Friday 55 ~ December 2017

Hours 

3:00 a.m. stews me in its terrors

of sightless moon and breathing shadows.

In this hull of bones I pick my skull

trying to mine enough halcyon

to fairytale my eyelids into soundless sleep.

Hours hang from the ceiling fan in a dust mobile

teasing lullabies with sand.

Thanatos puts his ear to my chest.

                      &

“Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum” 

December’s moon sings a lullaby

to the childless, but anger roots in

tongues nursing words of resistance.

Autocracy spins the coffers will go dry

if patriots don’t produce a cradle roll

large enough to sustain the wealthy.

Love will not hive a womb with worker bees.

No rages against the icy call of twisted procreation.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

Friday 55 ~ Holiday Edition

New Age of The Robbin' Rich

Morning shrinks into headlines

black lettering another day

into the shrinking wallet woe.

Politicians sing their hallelujahs

into an empty cup and dream raped

millions gather stones for the reckoning.

Speech is free until the disagree…The constitution

crawls through the swamp of bloated purchased

crying foul, but red letters claim Jesus doesn’t like the print.

Merry demands its holy and Happy opens its arms.

Welcome to the New Age of The Robbin’ Rich and the foot army

of dime strained dreams… January dust pans its glitter.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

Real Toads ~ Writing Exercise

The Violent Bleak

Quicksand thugs my backbone with struggle

and I grieve October took you.

I can hold your voice in the palm

of my hand, raise a fist in rebellion,

rally against hell’s gate, but

fear brings a loaded weapon.

The Violent Bleak keep growing

an army of the demented.

Let me drink courage from your echo.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

Saying goodbye to Tom Petty was tough. I need an infusion of his grit to not back down.

Friday 55 ~ 12/1/17     &   Real Toads ~ A Skyflower Friday ~ Goodbye