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

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Dropping A Match

She lights a cigarette,
smokes a few dreams,
and grinds ashes
on the glass ceiling.

Close isn’t close enough,
but dropping a match
into stubborn throats
will keep the bonfire growing.

Wound tight in a man’s world
she collects loose ends to braid rope
so the girls who follow won’t lose their way.

For every struggle another star earns her light.
While masculine energy huddles around coins,
she rallies women to rise and fracture glass.

©Susie Clevenger 2016


Sherry Blue Sky said...

I love for every struggle another star earns her light. I hope when women break that glass ceiling, they use woman power, and don't try to become men to make it through. The world needs woman power so badly.

Kim Russell said...

I love this one, especially the opening lines - reminiscent of film noir.

Marian said...

Ah... I love that third stanza especially. Keep saying it, Susie! Keep on!

Debi Swim said...

she collects loose ends to braid rope..... love the language in this

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I like using the loose ends to braid rope, to help others follow.

Kerry O'Connor said...

A powerful piece for our times, Susie..

brudberg said...

I think this is how it works... gradually with falling involved.

Eugene Uttley said...

...braiding rope out of loose ends... great image!
powerful poem.

Jim said...

I'm liking it, Susie. The second verse is my favorite, "Close isn’t close enough, but dropping a match ..." But MY 'Lady H' doesn't smoke?

Martin Kloess said...

There is power and confidence in your expression


This is SO good.

Fireblossom said...

I agree, this is effing awesome. Imo, she wasn't the one to do it, but WAS the one to clear the way. History is rarely a straight line; more often it's two steps forward, one step back, and that's the dance we're being led on now. Trump, like Bloody Mary Tudor, is the rubber band snapping back just before it breaks for good. Anyway, enough of my fluff-brained rambling. Your poem is unflinching, clear, strong, marvelous. (And you're teasing me with that picture. Admit it! LOL)

Margaret said...

I love the old movies and I believe this is Carol Lombard... She would identify with these lines!

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