Not Every Moon Carries Salvation

 

Widows of the moon dance

their disjointed steps across

the eye of night hoping 

to lure mortal flesh to test

the maze of eternity.

In lace cuffs stitched with ice

and gray wind they turn cartwheels

across window ledges leaving notes

only nightmares can decipher.

Dreamers seasick with visions

roam their own imaginations

trying to escape what daylight

planted in their irises, and words

that are keys that never open doors.

Pale sisters of bladed slivers of light,

they wander the impatient breath

of 3:00 a.m. muting tongues that

pray for deliverance. 

©Susie Clevenger 2023

Word Garden Word List--Keith Reid

Blackberry Bruised Moon

 

I’m daddy’s girl,

blackberry bruised

moon shadow of dread.

 

I never speak because

the walls listen and

tattle tale to ears

that grow fists.

 

Inside my head words

walk my teeth trying

to find an exit, but

any sound they risk

would open a river of blood.

 

Hell has a cradle, a salt thread quilt.

Daddy owns a Bible…I hold the truth.

 

For everything there’s a season,

Now’s the time for Daddy's blackberry bruised moon

to shine light on his guilt.

©Susie Clevenger 2021

May the Turpin children never know horror again.

House of Horrors

Created from Shay's Word Garden Word List #2 (Plath)

Words I chose are highlighted in list

Word List: blackberries, brag, coiled, counterfeit, daddy, dithers, exit, gobbledygoo,

hearing, idiot, lilies, lioness, mailed, maniacs, mend, moon, peacocks, shadows, space, water

Finding Myself in the Moon

 

Treading water in the river of moons

I drink gulps of light from my own reflection.

 

Baptized in visions I see tomorrow’s woe

stalking me on the horizon.

A wolf spirit speaks through my bones,

“Let yourself feel fear. It’s the first seed of courage.”

©Susie Clevenger 2021

The Sunday Muse #166

There's Something in the Water

 

In the river of moons

the voice of a raven

guides mortals

to the path of light.

 

Dancing out of shadows

mystics part the cerulean curtain

with palms filled with stars

to feed visions.

 

The bloated corpse of narrow minds

opens its tongue of wounds

to release treasured thorns

into the eye of revelation.

 

Luna winks her cloudless eye to stir

watered stones to sing the song of knowing

into ears that must listen and weigh

every word before they speak.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2021

The Sunday Muse #162

Like Prince Charming

 

He hunts innocence,

stalks moonlight

searching for lips

speaking the language

of Neruda stars.

 

What he doesn’t know

is Luna’s sisters have gone

before him to warn dreamers

to be cautious of charmers

who cloak darkness in the

simile of a wish.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2020

 

The Sunday Muse #120

 Poets and Storytellers United ~ Writer's Pantry #32

 

 

 

From the Eye of the Moon

We thought we could own moonlight, 

steal stars from Asteria’s palm, and brag 

conqueror in bloated chest bumps of human privilege. 

In our tunnel vision we couldn’t see 

the cat’s eye moon stalk us with 

bared claws reaching for the very breath 

we had bottled in our lungs. 

There is no fool like the one who owns stock in oblivion, 

an empty nirvana where men play gods and trust 

their footprints will lead to dominion. 

A mere toy in our sky litter the feline 

sniffs our defeat in the tomorrow 

we are so careless to trust we will quell.

©Susie Clevenger 2020

The Sunday Muse #117

Baiting Moonlight

There’s more devil in a brooding silver crescent moon

than an unseen underworld that plays its demon drum

to panic my insomnia.

Moonlight writes its play in shadows and I chase whispers

hoping it is a lover’s spell breaking the lock of my melancholy.  

Not every soul can feel poetry nor lips speak its language,

yet I bait night with verses trying to fill empty with words.

I am ink and a murder of crows trying to peck sunlight

into nightmares the moon walks across my eyelids.

Where is love, the heart shaped wishes planted in Luna’s wink?

©Susie Clevenger 2020

Poets and Storytellers Writer's Pantry #7

Written from Skylover's word list:

underworld, colonnade, seethe, crescent, faint,
sunshine, east, brooding foolish, silver

Crisp Counsel

Autumn Breath

Jason Limberg

Used With Permission

Moon blood and urges

is the tea to create enemies.

In the cold season of heat

nothing matters but winning.

Be warned… Kinship won’t

keep me from bringing war.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Art Flash/55 in November

Once There Was a Moon

If I speak in the language of poets and dreamers, 

but profit from the moon, I am only empty words or a devilish liar.

Midnight crawls across the stars

hungry for the moon, but can’t

find Luna’s scent.

Clock hands claw the wailing trees

handcuffed to blind night

trying to free the last dream.

The walking dead build another mansion

with profits earned from mining reflection.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads Weekend Mini Challenge

Moon Hours

Moth-Woman ~ Luke Eidenschink

Night winged and star eyed

I fly the wild hum of moon hours

where words breed on my skin

until their velvet finds a muse

bold enough to bear their ink.

I am the mystery you can’t solve,

the heat you crave, the phantom

dancing in the corner of your eye…

your chain and freedom.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ Art Flash/55

Wolf Moon and Flesh

Before the wolf moon

can puncture the heart

of dreams I meditate in

its howl, lift a prayer

for every scar on its

journey to forgiven,

and light a candle to guide

spirits through the valley

of extinction.

Pulled through the eye of empathy

I feel the wolf lead me deeper

into black coffee night.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

#55words

In Shay's prompt she led us to  to a beautiful extinct creature the Thylacine, but as poetry does it lead me to lament the passing of such wonder through a wolf moon. 

Linked to:

Real Toads ~ Fireblossom Friday

&

Real Toads ~ Moonstruck

Agony of the Moon

Howling moonlight walks the horizon

searching for souls of brave poets

to feed the monochrome night

love is both torture and

ecstatic freedom,

a heart walk through

the how and

why of

war.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Real Toads ~ Fussy Little Forms ~ Nonet

messenger

rain threatens the sky

and i wonder how

long the moon can swim

before it drowns in the

love sonnets pooling

on my lips

alone sits on a windowsill

begging a warm hand

to break the chill…

i fold a verse conjured

from dead poets into

his palm and whisper,

“love stays when you

give it away”

i melt into the shadow of echoes…

there’s no rest in a city of open wounds

©susie clevenger

Real Toads ~ On the Edge of a Starry Night

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

Friday 55 ~ 06/22/2018

Black Dirt Doesn’t Ask Questions

Bury me east of the moon.

Let my bones rest beneath

the cottonwood where

dreams dance with the devil.

In the death rattle of stained glass

black robes already gather

in the choir to sing of my damnation.

I suffer their notes,

but freedom doesn’t need

to glory paste confession.

 Black dirt doesn’t ask questions. 

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Friday 55