The We of Ink and Tablet

 

Blood of poet, vein of dread,

night grows darker with whispers fed

lie of tongues - the muse is dead.

 

Night grows bolder with wine of ink

that pricks the mind with a sorcerer’s wink

to expand the spirit so thoughts don’t shrink.

 

One word grows three,

a root a tree,

Calliope’s tablet answer’s plea.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2020

Painting by Charles Meynier 

Calliope: Greek Goddess - Muse of eloquence and  epic poetry.

My poem isn't eloquent or epic, but I am grateful Calliope showed up

so I could find 55 words and wrote in rhyme. (Something I am not good at)

Flash Friday 55 - Halloween Edition 2020

Broken Down Ride of the One Horse Emporium

 

Every giggle and scream 

was catalogued on stirrups

by tiny feet once racing 

a circle of dreams.

The brand new under

the nothing new sun

claimed its glory until time

pulled the plug and progress

built a bypass.

Those brave enough

to explore shredded whimsy

be wary nostalgia is 

a bitter herb when 

mixed with regret. 

©️Susie Clevenger 2020

Word Crafters Prompt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Scent of Unseen

 

Her perfume announces

her passage where eyes

don’t trust visions, and fear

twists imagination into a demon’s blink.

 

She was dance, April’s first bloom,

youth’s passion for invincible.

 

October came with skeletons,

and she carried their bones

until the beast’s breastbone

became the final cut.

 

She is now a ballet of narrow dreams,

the last chance haunting those

stuck in wandering spaces where timid

prefers the vinegar of same to wine

bubbling with temptation to change.

 

©Susie Clevenger 2020