Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess

"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Lobster Numb


The devil’s in the details
and we dance blind.

Bully bloat, science won't matter
 until denial gets bit, orange alliance,
great is downgraded to embarrassment.

Keep the fossil in the tank, air bleak,
and water selling higher than oil.

All that pulpit thump preaching hell
has a highway through Armageddon
forgot to consult Mother Earth.

She’s been saying for ages there’s
a burning coming, but humans are lobster numb,
denying they sulphured the match.

©Susie Clevenger 2017


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Friday, July 14, 2017

Acroma














    The Death of Albine ~ 1898 ~ John Collier


You wreathed my body in flowers.
I didn’t know guilt could come so adorned.
You knifed my spirit until I could no longer breathe,
drained the roses from my lips and danced
with the devil until I sought angels.

I hate parades. This march of black sleeves
parading across my cheeks seeking notice
is a hundred clowns away from truth.

How many more rumors must ears taste
when they are already fat with lies?
I lay here sentenced to dust while
a covey of scarlet offenses claim piety.

Is revenge truly sweet or merely the stench of decay?
My body will be absolved from my spirit’s consequences.
I will not go quietly into my tomb of draped lilies.

I will be the roar in a pillowed head counting sheep,
a stalking wolf devouring rest, a wraith ushering
my tormentors into the open throat of their madness.

Here in this time before wings I gather names
in the hollow cave of my breast until I know
how many shadows it takes to coal dust clouds
in an unrepentant sky.
  
 ©Susie Clevenger 2017













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Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Rising


Morning peels us from bed
in onion layers until we stand
night drugged on two feet.

Swiftly the sun steals the lover’s chat
from our lips as we snap and grumble
our way to the calculated time of caffeine.

Two souls entangled in memories
prepare to wander through daylight hours
searching for a break in the fence.

©Susie Clevenger 2017


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Saturday, July 8, 2017

In 1968



In 1968….

I was wild weed drifting
in flash notes when July burned
deliverance into blue eyes.
Naïve had long been plucked
from fragile leaves, but I blushed
the virgin pink of a first kiss.

Born female in a stone garden
I was feral glass, boot high,
waiting for the next shattering.
In the summer hum of guitars
you were a place of roots, sunshine,
a prince guiding my heart to my own rescue.

In 1968…

My world turned upside down
and I wasn’t hurt in the fall.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

My poem was inspired by these beautiful photos.
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Thursday, July 6, 2017

Carnival Bird Sky


The carnival bird sky
melts into gray wings
racing toward rest.

Pressed against the
brick wall I watch
the last hurrah of
an ice cream sunset
surrender to dusk.

I wonder how much
of myself I can leave
to summer tongues
to debate before
I reach empty.

I should feel remorse
or at least sorrow,
but there is an odd joy
in becoming a shadow.

It’s easier to run
when goodbye leaves
 no strings attached.

©Susie Clevenger 2017



I used bird, ice cream, and dusk from the list.

Real Toads ~ July Get Listed
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Friday, June 30, 2017

Bird in a Fish Tank

Art by Karin Gustafson

You need strong wings
to fly with my crazy.
So buckle up.. Say a prayer..
(or not if you prefer)

I am a bird in a fish tank
fighting waves to find sky.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

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Thursday, June 22, 2017

A Dull Light On My Sunny Side


Oh, Government, you are
a dull light on my sunny side.
You never fail to provide the stink
if I decide I want to skate
somewhere on the fault line.

I rather like roller skating on bullshit.
There is honesty in its odor
The surface muck has enough lie
to support figure eights and
side stepping double speak.

Not to be political but political,
government marble halls
are always fresh with mess.
My standard skate wear is I won’t
believe a thing preconceived
assumptions accessorized
with my follow the money glasses.
I don’t need to waste
a new outlook, because
Truth never gets past
the special interest detector.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

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