Posts

Blame it on Music

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I’m going to dance, not care about stares, not care about glares.
My happy grooves when music moves
me to step up and step out.
If I smile, you can smile. If I sway, it’s OK. If I clap, it’s no trap.
Music doesn’t care how you look, doesn’t care how long it took for you to get over yourself.
Bring on the band…I’ll take your hand. There’s no divide when happy glides right up to your seat to get you on your feet.

©Susie Clevenger 2019


Real Toads ~ Juice!

The Wink of His Words

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I bloom in the back of his mind where tea leaves speak and blood is thicker than tears.
He walks hat tipped in salute to every dreamer that catches my silhouette in the wink of his words.
Pin striped lanky limbs struggle to keep him centered, but I am the ink writing him out of his mind.
There’s no warning when a pen breaks a glass heart, or madness finds a mirror. Love is never born from common sense.

©Susie Clevenger 2019
This poem first appeared in Visual Verse and was inspired by the artwork of  Craig Carry The photo I used here is by Alex Fu via Pexels.
Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform

Reevaluate

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Trying to subdue my passion for feral with pretty color baths of tame sunshine invites rebellion.
Prepare to address scratch marks when you reevaluate your capabilities regarding domestication.

©Susie Clevenger 2019
The Sunday Muse #65

Take It Personally

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I travel heavy and keep secrets in deep pockets of my skull.
Every broke down town has bottle therapy if you have enough green in your wallet to pay for the prescription.
Some like to drink until they're empty. I tequila to the edge of my teeth, and give the beer crew just enough sad song to keep the waitress collecting tips.
I like to wear yellow, collect blue, and keep whispers at arm’s length… If I don’t answer your questions, take it personally. My wheels don’t turn on your dime.

©Susie Clevenger 2019
I don't know why this sounds like a trucker speaking, but my muse went there.
The Sunday Muse #64


Long Nights of Burnt Days

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There’s a lot of flesh and blood in his harmonica, long nights of burnt days, and prayers carrying him to the crossroads with the devil on his back.
He testifies about his dark side in blue notes walking their way toward redemption until the liquor congregation pours another amen.
He was a lot of things… Is a lot of things. He pours past and future through one day at a time into music that helps every listener carry their own story.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
The Sunday Muse #62

Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform

Strawberry Wings

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I remember my mother taking my sisters and I to our neighbors farm to pick strawberries. It was supposed to be a chore, but it never felt that way. Sunshine, laughter, and popping as many strawberries in my mouth as in the pail was magical. 
Sun deep in strawberries, lips tinted red, and a bucket begging berries, I turn a chore into summer playtime.
Memories gather on white puffy clouds where tomorrow can read them, and today is oblivious of tears on the horizon.
It is a butterfly moment of growing wings in giggles, and feeling freedom speak from the dirt between my toes. United with sky and earth I soar.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
The Sunday Muse ~ Berries! Wednesday Muse #13

Oh, and I was super excited to make the gif. Little things. :)

Catty Honesty

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I am not your pretty thing to dress in lace and ignorance.
The mirror in my eyes reflects what it sees.
If you don’t like the judgement, don’t provide the reason.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
The Sunday Muse #60