file:///C:/Users/butterflywrite/Downloads/pinterest-0d480%20(1).html Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess

Friday, October 31, 2014

Let The Bottle Burn


The air smells like sin and iron.
Night has gathered its knifes
to bleed sanity from skulls 
full of thoughts to stalk pretty things.

Twisted boys pouring rape
into sparkly glasses will meet
Karma before painted lips
touch the rim of horror.

Let the bottle burn
the fingers of deceit.
Tonight will silence
the group think that no
can be manipulated into yes.

Bravado weeps
a pitiful excuse
as predators learn
the table turn spin
has rendered them prey.

©Susie Clevenger 2014

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Sing Away My Scars



Nightingale, this night is too dark
without your song to rock me to sleep.
Lonely has wrapped me in its scars
and I can’t feel love any more.

Who is this songstress of melancholy
that begs my throat to sing
a melody to devour pain?

I cling to this limb scented with spring
and only wish to commune with the moon,
but her tears can’t go unanswered.

Dear one, absence nurses its wounds
only as long as you allow...
Be the light for another until
you’ve burnt the darkness from alone.

I will sing for you until your dreams
carry you to truth…Until you trust
you can fly without my wings.

©Susie Clevenger 2014

I wrote this for my own challenge at Real Toads ~ Bits of inspiration ~ Nightingale 

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Rustle Of Orange

I walk beneath the oaks in their autumn
rustle of orange flames burning summer
from limbs wondering if the robin’s song
still clings to its abandoned nest or has
the wind swallowed the memory of rebirth.

The sky above me is a cloud of wings
chasing a resting place where snowflakes
have never frozen their place in vocabulary,
the mating call is silent, home is a gypsy camp
waiting for instinct to find north again.

In this beautiful landscape of dying I collect
visuals to charm me through the skeleton hours
of frost when daylight is a mere thought
between bookends of midnight and prayers for spring.



 ©Susie Clevenger 2014


This is written for Margaret's Play It Again Toads #10 I chose to revisit Kerry's A Toads favo(u)rite Poem which featured the poet Dylan Thomas, whose style I amateurishly tried to emulate.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Portal of Fitheal

Autumn Celestial Elf ~ John Anster Fitzgerald

Beware of stepping
through the portal of Fitheal
where nightmares dance
on dead eyes and fairies
gather lies to decorate
damnation’s tree for
The Feast of Revelation.

It is on All Hollow’s Eve
Mendacity don’s her
whisper veil to trick
tongues to spill secrets.

If you bear the hoodwink’s mark,
don’t venture out when the moon
is tinted with blood smoke,
or your screams will be added
to the flames of the liars’ sacrifice.

©Susie Clevenger 2014
(Notes: Fitheal means sprite or goblin in Irish and Mendacity means deception)
Grapeling at Real Toads gave us this list of words as inspiration for our ghost stores:
fairy, portal, sacrifice, feast, smoke, winter, slaughter, spirit, veil, ritual, trick, disguise



Monday, October 20, 2014

The Curse On My Tongue






















A curse rests on my tongue,
eager to be sent…
eager to find its target.

I war with my conscience
about playing nice….
Forgiveness is a virtue,
but he muddied the sandlot
in the darkest hour of breath.

I want to rattle every skeleton
in his closet until the truth
spills across his doorstep.

Sticks and stones aptly thrown
will tumble his house of cards.

©Susie Clevenger 2014

Ah Halloween....'Tis the season of darkness.....

Sunday, October 5, 2014

A Forty Watt Moon


I hear photographs speak,
brush my teeth with thoughts,
and walk barefoot through
the alphabet under a forty watt moon.

Surrounded by poets on bookshelves,
I ink verses until “finished” releases me
from wide awake dreams.

Attempting to snake charm sleep
with yawns, I cap my pen
and surrender to daylight
winking on the horizon.

©Susie Clevenger 2014


Friday, October 3, 2014

My Resting Place


Bury me in Mother Earth’s womb
where sun is carried in water
droplets, and tomorrow
lies untouched by human error.

Wrap me in a shroud of hope
and send my spirit to walk the scars
of her pitted cheeks to apply
the oil of remorse to destruction’s brow.

Blend my dust with rebirth.
Let it be the soil where change
can grow deep roots to stop the flooding
destruction of man-made destiny.


©Susie Clevenger 2014


Hannah, at Real Toads, prompted us to write from the inspiration of Son Doong Cave in Vietnam. It is an amazing, beautiful place. In this video it shows a forest growing inside the cave. I was moved to write about my pain of how we have harmed our planet and the hope somehow we can stop the tide of destruction poised to consume life. Transforming Friday With Mother Nature's Wonders