Posts

Not Every Match Strikes Gold

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  I used to be a chin up guy, beat the odds, never give up because hell is just a side trip. Funny how naïve weighs you down when reality ages you into cynicism. Listen kids…The devil loves glitter, the shine of the blind spot. He’ll offer you a cigar and scar you with the match.  ©Susie Clevenger 2021 The Sunday Muse #178

Wren in Pearls

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  Photography by Anne Brigman I’m dressed for clouds. Like a gray wren in pearls I am a monochrome relief pressed into sky arguing with sunlight.   ©Susie Clevenger 2021 Word Crafters Prompt

Notes on Abalone

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  In the cavern of whispers where sea and sand roam waves write love notes on abalone, and wait for dreamers wooed by the music of poetry to surrender to its seduction. ©Susie Clevenger 2021

This Thing About Wings

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  There’s something about wings that makes me wish I had them.   Defying gravity to feel the sky without having to carry passengers complaining about the view is a bit of magic I’d like to own.   Oh, the pleasure of being a bird to drop an exclamation point on a gossipy neighbor who muddies the Zen of a sunny Tuesday would be a mulberry mission of delight.   If a wish was a feather, I’d wish to be a robin. I could arrive to announce winter has been shown the door and gray landscape must surrender to the reign of wildflowers.   Wait! Perhaps I should wish to be a crow, silence my introvert, join a flock, be inquisitive, problem solve with a wink of mischievous, write my opinions in feather quills and inky throat.   Yes, there’s something, endless somethings about wings that has me yearning to not feel the weight of finding my way through the hypercritical maze of selfish humans.       ©Susie Clevenger 2021          

Am I My Savior

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  Abandoned on the edge of the moon, the silent space where my prayers pace the eye of God begging for an audience, I wonder if it’s brave to hope for rescue or trust I can rebuild myself from the broken glass that carried me here.   ©Susie Clevenger 2021

Eternity Through Sunglasses

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 “The clouds, – the only birds that never sleep.” - Victor Hugo     Drugged with sunlight she hallucinates a sky sea filled with flocks of insomniac clouds scouring the devils from eternity with cotton tipped wings. ©Susie Clevenger 2021 The Sunday Muse #169

Dream Walk of Melancholy

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  Night burns its lamp moon across my skin where light seeks a vein.   High on twilight I roam shadows until monsters no longer dance in my head.   In the tree above me I hear a nightingale sing its heart into the wind.   Companions of melancholy we watch stars climb closer to the sun and wait for morning to erase our silhouettes.  ©Susie Clevenger 2021