Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Bouquets of Irony

Your goodbye has me surrounded
by all the roses you never gave me.
It is unsettling to have my senses
assaulted by bouquets of irony.
I hear you whisper in my ear,
“Scissored petals only steal
green from my pockets.”

Like a deposed witness I answer questions
with expected answers of where and when,
but why is deflected by, “God only knows.”

Is this Tuesday? Sunday still shows on the calendar.
Time flies…Well, the fog has wings…
A depth of six feet requires too many choices…
metal or wood, decorated dignity or austere,
definitely not a gray lining, the hierarchy of padded chairs…

Now I am expected to shed tears just because
eternity is punctuated with stems in pretty vases.
I want all of it to be over…You’ve already reached silence.
I hate to sew, yet here I sit stitching wounds….
praying I have enough thread.


 ©Susie Clevenger 2016





Saturday, April 30, 2016

Rainbow Weaving


I know nothing about
Maypole steps or reasons,
but I weave rainbow ribbons
around May hoping
dreams aren’t colorblind.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

Day 30 #NaPoWriMo 2016


Racing Dog Days


Summer, anxious, impatient
has chased spring to the curb.

Delicate pastels have withered
beneath a sun so brash it has
brought July to taunt April.

A cozy porch waits for ice tea gossip
about Mother Nature’s struggle to thrive
beneath the paws of racing dog days.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

Day 29 #NaPoWriMo 2016



Thursday, April 28, 2016

Won't Make The Book Cover


I’m a suburban, can’t stand the taste of chicken, poet
with a high school degree. I collect rejection letters,
motel ink pens, and blank stationery. I’m a periodic
social recluse but definitely introvert extrovert
who suffers traffic related PTSD. I write in the chaos
of ADD and a cluttered desk.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

Day 28 #NaPoWriMo 2016


Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Gold Standard

I placed fresh cut flowers
on the table, tea and death
shouldn’t share the same tablecloth.

You sit there as stiff as an obituary.

If the cat has your tongue,
then pick up a pen.
I’m tired of trying to estimate
the gold standard for silence.


©Susie Clevenger 2016

Day 27 #NaPoWriMo 2016


Sugar Tea

He drank tea
from the hollow
of her throat.

He liked the
sugar song
of her voice
when she moaned
his name, and
pink blushes
on porcelain.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

(Catching up...I missed posting a poem on day 23 of #NaPoWriMo 2016)

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

I Lost My Umbrella


“Nothing has really happened until it has been recorded.” Virginia Woolf

I loved him with
star glazed eyes,
elastic heart,
songs hummed
from lips painted red.

My spirit danced through dreams,
holidays, new moons, frost,
Mondays time stamped with hectic.

But cruel April came to take my Prince.
Purple Rain fell and I lost my umbrella.
The songs ended….I stopped wearing red.

My heart broke and he couldn’t hear the glass.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

Day 26 #NaPoWriMo 2016