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

Sunday, February 19, 2017

On The Edge

The moon teeters on the edge of my roof
like a precocious child planning her escape.
Plump with stars and night she finger paints
shadows across my bedroom wall and ignores
my pleas to stay until sunlight chews through my curtains.

We are enemies, friends, a song and dance team
on a revolving stage…She won’t stay…I won’t forgive her absence.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

Real Toads ~ And The Moon ~ Micro Poetry
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Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Stone Weight

He wanted me to jump hoops,
you know the kind…
work harder (for less money)…..

Ah dear mirror,
I’ve painted enough Mondays
to know pink is too weak,
and red comes with a reputation.

Everyone’s a judge these days.
You’re one button too close to trashy.
She got her job by going through the bedroom door.
A brain doesn’t go with blond.

Frankly I need a little more bitch,
 less give a damn, and a hip sway
that leaves an exclamation.

I’ve learned people judge the weight
of their stone throw by the size
of the sin list they store in their closets.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

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Sunday, February 12, 2017

Misery Prayers

Roses dry on stems
before buds open.
They hang in screams
and morbid scent.

For the sake of flowers,
the weeds are watered,
but for the drought damning weeds,
flowers thirst.

Misery prayers blind to consequences
burn the garden to kill one demon.
Petals are all children of nature,
the same drought choking weeds
will scorch the blossoms of summer.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

"For the sake of flowers,  the weeds are watered" is the Arabic proverb that inspired this poem.

Real Toads ~ Recycle A Saying
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Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Talk To The Girl Inside

You have to talk to that girl inside.
She’s pushing against your skin,
sliding down pity party words,
begging you to rewind the clock.

When she stares through your eyes
she’s pointing out flaws,
damning gray hairs, parading
memories across your breasts.

Tell her the snap and pop in your bones
doesn't keep you from dancing,
the crow’s feet got there by laughing,
and your arms still reach to hug.

When she’s nagging about stretch marks,
point her toward daughters
you were blessed to birth from your womb.

Talk to that girl inside….
Tell her you won’t trade wisdom for vanity.
Tell her your sensible shoes know where to walk.
Tell her just because she speaks
doesn’t mean you have to listen.

Talk to that girl inside….
Tell her you don’t mind looking through old photo albums,
but you don’t plan to camp in its pages.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2017

Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform
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