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

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Years Float From Scissors

I no longer carry you
in my hair.

Years float
from scissors
to the floor
and I am free.

The hate you sprinkled
in my starlight now
mixes with dirt.

A broom waits to
remove the last tie to your
midnight voice.

My eyes are brighter,
bluer, wider, at peace.

I no longer carry you
in my hair.


©Susie Clevenger 2014

The beautiful woman in the photo is my daughter, Dawn. She is an amazing woman of courage and strength who has fought illness and years of mental abuse from an ex-husband and his family. Yet, she has never let it define who she was. She is one of those rare people who shines brighter when life tries to steal her light. 

I wrote this for Margaret's Play It Again, Toads #11  I chose A Toad's Favo(u)rite Poem featuring poet Diane di Prima as inspiration.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Lemon Drowning

detail of "Still Life with Fruit" 1852 - Severin Roesen
Iphone Image by Margaret Bednar

I drank wine
until the bitter
taste of my lemon life
no longer poisoned my tongue
and fairy tales stopped begging
me to save them from drowning.

©Susie Clevenger 2014 

Notes: There are too many fairy tale TV shows and the constant comments from that annoying man who won't marry American Women. At least I got a poem out of it. :)

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Love In The Time Of Silence

“Having to talk destroys the symphony of silence.”
― Aleister CrowleyDiary of a Drug Fiend


I am not sure when
we stopped speaking,
speaking beyond necessary.

Words sit on our tongues
like sparrows, common,
generic, sterile, polite.

When startled into the
insistence we make commentary,
we flutter our vocal chords
long enough to let conversation
appease, and then return
to roost in our silence.

Forcing someone to sing
will not make the music sweet….

Love is not a measure
of how many words we can
bead across the gap.

It is knowing there is enough
passion in our hearts to carry
us through our silent winter.


 ©Susie Clevenger 2014



Friday, November 14, 2014

In A Moment

In a moment of love
we transcended the
judgment beating
at the door.

In a moment of love
nothing mattered
but the song freeing
us from pain.

In a moment of love
we were changed
in the chorus.

In a moment of love
you kept us from seeing
the wolf tearing away
your tomorrows.

©Susie Clevenger 2014



At Real Toads Marian prompted us with a Queen song: Love Of My Life
Love Of My Life

Monday, November 10, 2014

Until The Wind Sings

I am an oak leaf
clinging to spring
in the brittle dying
days of my autumn.

Defying endings
while the sun
warms my cheeks,
I hold on to life
and not the dust
calling for my bones.

Though my smile
is stained with age
Joy doesn’t fret
what the mirror speaks.

Until the wind sings
my funeral song, I will
dress in bright colors
and plant memories
where the roses bloom.

©Susie Clevenger 2014

At Real Toads Grace prompted us with the works of Salvatore Quasimodo.



Sunday, November 9, 2014

Healing

A beam of light in Upper Antelope Canyon
in Arizona. Lucas Löffler wiki cc)


Standing where sunlight
polishes flood etched stone
I hear the echo of the Navajo
singing through the veins
of the Cathedral of Rain.

Slowly the voices search
the rooms of my agony
until they reach the
core of my tears.

Baptized in words my soul translates
I release my pain to the power of healing.

©Susie Clevenger


Hannah at Real Toads took us to Antelope Canyon in Arizona for inspiration.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Facebook Circus

                
Photo: Pinterest        


Come one! Come all!
Join me at the Facebook Circus!

Watch me walk the tight rope
of my truth while dodging darts
shot from lungs filled with opinions.

There will be nail biting,
chewed tongues, and salty tears.

Admission is free, but depending
on the crowd there may be stoning
if your “unfortunate” pain sits in
the cross hairs of their second amendment.


©Susie Clevenger 2014

Mama Zen prompted us to write about our circus life in 90 words or less.