Wild Ride of Palette and Brush

The highway is a paintbrush and wide-open canvas. Talent doesn’t sit in the corner like a wall flowerbegging a dance…Creative likes the wind in its hair,wheels humming music through a landscape of star stunned palettes thirsting for revelation.Do you think Dali, Frida, or Van Gogh had any F’cksto give about societal maps trying to plot their destinations?I’d love to take a convertible ride with the three of them,slap conformity in the ass, and conjure daydreamsfrom smoke rings storming the air.
 ©Susie Clevenger 2020The Sunday Muse #131


“No my friend, darkness is not everywhere, for here and there  I find faces illuminated from within; paper lanterns among the dark trees.” ― Carole Borges
In the midnight cavernwhere voices smother starsshe is the lantern muse of poetswho hunger to write a path to open sky. ©Susie Clevenger 2020The Sunday Muse #129
Theia ~ Greek Goddess of Sight and Heavenly Light

Raven's Cradle

Image: Alexas Photos - Pixabay The dead in me joins October leavesin their decaying crush to crumble toward spring.With every raking of unnecessary I deny night monsters their insomniac delightin watching me pace hours I can’t reclaim.Raven wing shadows usher Poe’s ink to coffindaylight’s misery so sleep can write its poemsacross my weary eyelids.
©Susie Clevenger 2020Friday Flash 55

The Lessons in September

September gently rustlesdry leaves of August’s drought,and I hear it urging me to rest.Just as it must deal with the cackleof summer’s dusted leavings, I tooneed to surrender the weight of monthsto a past I can’t unravel.The ninth month has always birtheda hunger in me to learn, to search the unknown.This year I will nest in the breath of dreams andlet peace teach worry lessons in unburdening. ©Susie Clevenger 2020Word Crafters Prompt ~ Favorite MonthPoets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #35

Dust Spew of Dragons

I love dragon fieldsspewing August dustinto rain barren clouds.The anger of summerat the end of its ropeis theater I understand.Inevitable chokes with its curse, and the rib shredding of changedoesn’t earn our applause.Sisters of sun and steamed pudding moonwe know Autumn will soon arriveto taunt us with winter.
©Susie Clevenger 2020The Sunday Muse #121

Knee on the Neck of Democracy

We’re praying between bullets, fed pepperto season our screams, and dodging puppetswho dance on an orange string. Change came like a lion,stalked our lungs, then locked us downin a twitter nest of failure.What will we look like when hell is over?When tomorrow doesn’t arrive witha black coffin sun? ©Susie Clevenger 2020Friday Flash 55

Wrestling With Gray

Ribbon highways tempt with destinations, bright electric exits without melancholy brooding in the rear-view mirror. I normally don’t look back,mind rake my yesterdaysto garden good times, butstuck in non-directioneven images of my overweight selfare sunlight on a monochrome Sunday. Sitting at my table of wishes I watcha cardinal through my window, drink another cup of tea, and ponderif a journey begins with a single step,how do I reach Shambala by pacing quicksand?
©Susie Clevenger 2020

I was honored to have my photo as inspiration to spark poetry at The Sunday Muse.
The Sunday Muse #116

Poets and Storytellers United ~ Writer's Pantry #28