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 15, 2018

Send ~ Tricube

sends its dust
to the west

in ochre 
infused clouds

complaints sung
through the nose

romance sends
its flower
to blossom

in fertile
pining ground
of heartsick

the pruning
no requires

please do not
send love notes
to litter

my mailbox
with pink heart

is the fruit
on my tongue

©Susie Clevenger 2018

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Friday, July 13, 2018


Toril Fisher Fine Art

Maidens of spring
sit on my windowsill
in mason jar memorials.

For every blossom I cut
another clings to its stem
as long as the sun allows.

Hello and goodbye commune
through the glass as peonies
defy the storming of seasons.

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Sunday, July 8, 2018

Saying More With Less

a sky full of butterflies
small winged crayons
erasing gray from clouds
a drop of blood
sacrificed to a thorn
bonds me to a rose
each poem I write
spills from my fingertips
until I reach silence
the pause
between words
is where truth pools

©Susie Clevenger 2018

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Where Nothing Matches but Everything Belongs

How do I dress for a day
that provides sunlight,
but silences a song
with the tapping complaints
of fingertips?

There is a bright sky marbled
white and blue, yet the eye walks
an electronic path searching for offense
and misses the wonder of morning.

Perhaps I should dress as a crayon box
where nothing matches but everything belongs,
tell everyone I meet I am a wild garden, a spirit
unencrypted who finds joy in the beauty of flawed.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

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Sunday, June 24, 2018

Shaman Sunflower

Sunflowers ribbon their way
into my daydreams in subtle nods
to the yellow marble owning the sky.

Oh, to have such strength, bloom
when the eye is a desert void
of a single tear, and stand tall
in the withering.

Joy comes where happy can’t survive.
Dear blossom, you remind me even
the driest heart can drink light if it chooses.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

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Thursday, June 21, 2018

One less Tear

In the valley of illness every stone bruises
as it presses into another unchanged hour
of breath bleeding closer to the tomb.

Have you ever watched your child suffer? I am.
Desperation collects its hand maids to birth despair,
tries to force me into the clotted womb of hopeless.

These are the times I must fly with broken wings,
fight melancholy’s gravity by on less tear,
and seek light in the coal night of uncertain.

My eyes must show tomorrow there will be sun
so the midnight of my child will know morning will come,
mortar my helpless into trust the sky won’t fall.

It is true. One never knows how strong the spirit can be
until there is no other option, no other view but hope,
no other words but... Don’t Give Up.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

Dawn has just fought one of the hardest health battles of her life. She had an intestinal infection that resulted in kidney and heart failure. She is getting better, but in the days ahead there will be more medical tests and procedures. It is her wrist that is in the photo I used. 

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Wednesday, June 6, 2018

Finish Line

I am feet too slow to race,
but sturdy in dusty paths.

I carry laces frayed with yesterday
while today begs my footprints.

The chase no longer lures
nor does erasing hours bring comfort.

Years connect sinew to bone
and heart to memories.

The finish line will reach me
in shallow breaths and fields of stars.

©Susie Clevenger 2018

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