Needles Without Ink

 

Saturday opens

its book of pain.

I’m tired of reading

the same story.

I search for an ink pen

to write a new chapter.

All I find is needles

searching for a vein.

©Susie Clevenger 2025

The Fading Yesterday Me

I don’t know the yesterday me.

She walked paths of bubble gum dreams

wearing skirts too short for crosses to bear.

I still have long hair, but gray has invaded

golden blond, and I look more hag than innocent.

Oh, my younger me tries to break the 

shadow door, but the creaking bone chain

that holds the key doesn't like to rattle history.

I live in the moment…Doesn’t that sound enlightened?

It’s not. I’m practical because my tomorrows are shrinking.

The yesterday me thought she knew everything.

Today I’m always on a hunt for my phone,

because it holds lists of what I’m sure to forget.

©Susie Clevenger 2025

You can also read it Here at Hello Poetry

I Won’t Wear His Sin

He would have me wear a crown

designed by misogyny to bear witness

I am his queen of the kitchen.

I did not taste an apple to wear an apron

or have my eyes opened to be blinded

by a book of submission. 

It is not a sin to rebel against tyranny.

Knowledge of my feminine freedom

is the power a weak man fears. 

©Susie Clevenger 2025