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About Susie Clevenger
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Blog postSlivers of frozen moon
peek through tarot clouds
as the old year slips into
its grave of sapphire shadows.
From wind shuffled mist January
drops its star of hope into the palm
of restless night where questions
pace the insomnia of unanswered.
Beneath winter’s icy quilt resilience
sprouts another leaf to break
through soil of a new calendar
waiting to blossom.&n -
Blog postPhoto Manipulation by Zulkarnain Ismail
Sunset swims through the pines
turning bark into pink fins chasing light
deeper into shadows.
Waves of evening splash across my face
transforming my skin into ghost paths
for night dreams to wander.
Alone I wait for stars to break through needles
framing clouds above me, and wonder if my eyes
are a bold enough mirror to steal the moon -
Blog postDressed by a murder of crows
and dark mist of moon I walk
the silver edge of night’s mirror
where Longfellow’s ink still pools
in the fountain of dreams.
Free of sunlight’s woe I wrap myself
in his poet’s cloak to hold communion
with words that see hope in star washed shadows.
Aware sleep will soon demand
I seek my pillow I sing one last exclamation,
Night’s peace will carry me -
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Blog postThe weight of days has turned
her auburn hair to white mist.
She walks sunrise with her pine needle breasts
glistening with night stars still clinging to dreams.
A defiant forest drops its seeds from limbs scarred
by axes hungry for concrete on sacred ground
begging for resurrection.
Hope, fragile as spun sugar, sings its song of nests
on wings brushing its notes across sky angry -
Blog postIn fairy dust, and dry oak leaves
autumn climbs upon its throne
feeling tree limbs shudder their woe
of coming frost to strip them to skeletons.
Dressed in sun yellow and orange crush
the forest sings its song of slumber praying
the season’s interlude will be kind to weathered wombs
who are hand maidens to capricious seasons.
In the crushed breath of fallen leaves wild things
dress in cin -
Blog postMy foot prints leave my name
in the dust of insomnia
formed by sleepless souls counting
butterflies in the lamb’s cave of the moon.
A monarch astronaut tethered
to earth that abandoned me
I search for solace from winged gods
who speak the language of eternal flight.
In this land where wishes glitter stones
I suffer no crosses to bear or sins to forgive.
Alone with my ow -
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Blog postWith the moon cradled in my hands
and night tucked into strands of my hair
the whispers of monsters are merely
the death rattle of leaves surrendering to the wind.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Word Crafters Wednesday Prompt
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Blog postA yellow petal sea
of sunflowers floods august
with summer’s last hurrah.
I am a thousand steps
into grief, and yet withering
stemmed suns splash light
across my arms daring night
to open its veins to stars.
The thesaurus I’ve hung
like a crucifix from my tongue
rustles its pages as it feels
hope’s breach.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
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Blog postSilence can grow roots
on the tongue, leaf agony
on branches fed distance
and questions ignored.
In the straining agony to reach
a love song night buries the sun
beneath ribs that have turned
from cradle to heart’s prison.
Let me explain a few things...
When sullen stillness robs love
of its rose blush, it's a dandelion
that will blossom from thorns if the
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Blog postArtistic Photography Dreamlike Portrait Photography by Damien Casals
Night sings its song of wings along my skin until I slip into
the moon’s lullaby to fly
the star path of visions.
The chant of trees guides
me to Jupiter’s oak where
Athena braids my hair
with sonnets of falling stars.
Etched by secrets I roam
ebony’s curtain where beginnings
and endings merge until the weight
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Blog postPhoto: Caroline Madsen Wind carries wild grass music notes to my fingertips,
and I get lost in a prairie sonata of summer.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
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Blog postImage:Susie Clevenger A teacup moon rests
on its starlight saucer
watching night roamers
walk ribbons of pavement
lined with electric globes.
Escape plays its drumbeat
of shoes along concrete
competing with traffic’s rumble.
All paths lead to tomorrow,
but in the final hours of Saturday night
darkness teases silhouettes splashing
against sleeping windows there are
rain -
Blog postIn the pink dust of admiration
a rose enjoys a moment of full bloom
while death waits to brown its petals
and erase love notes tucked into
the eye of summer.
©Susie Clevenger 2020 -
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Blog postDigital Art by : Louisa Azevedo When morning withdraws
its saber from the moon’s heart,
wild things stir to drink the blood
of dreams, to taste hope in its innocence.
In the ethereal unrest of rising - visions
swim the edge of alarm clock’s routine
playing tug of war with alert and sleep’s siren.
Cautiously plans shape-shift from vague
into clarity…The stag leaps from the calendar
erasing fam -
Blog postWe travel in fairy taleswhere flowers speakand bears sing lullabies.
At dream’s peak where twilightpulls wool over bright eyeswe stand tiptoe on the moonplanting wishes among stars.
Pale rose and thorn’s blooddance through sleeping earsleaving whispers morningwill translate as insanity.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
The Sunday Muse #109 -
Blog postThe moon is on fireand flowers tease uswith the heady hopelove can bloom in the voidof an unanswered kiss.
A mask used to be a metaphor,the smile I wore so no onecould see inside the mirror.
Now it is a shield announcingI care enough about your lifeto not expose you to my contagion.
How long can one exist inside a question? It is so cold in this city of empty arms.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Poets and Storytellers United - Weekly Scribblings #18 -
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Blog postIn a sky of numberless starsa mockingbird sings her earth songof dandelion seeds to plant musicwhere angels no longer sing. ©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowritmo2020 Day 28Inspired by: #skyloverwordlist - numberless -Real Toads - April 2020 - Day 28 -
Blog postFebruary’s irony deliveredme beneath the sign of Pisces,but neglected to teach meto trust water.
With open heart and tear drop eyesI clung to the edge of the moonand questioned a Zodiac’s prankof delivering a fish without fins.
In the wilderness of stars answersabandoned me on the banks of silence.An orphan with stardust veins,I formed butterfly wings from fearto grow strong enough to swim an ocean.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowrimo2020 Day 26
Inspired by: -
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Blog postDeath owns the mossed headstonesorphaned by time and muted storiesno longer spoken in mortal’s rockery.
Fallen epitaphs .... names surrenderto nature’s bloom and winter frost,broken granite bouquets tied with wild roses.
Where pain no longer visits, peace speakspoetry through meadowlark and aspen sigh, souls long gonenow rest as poems cradled in the arms of Mother Earth.
©Susie Clevenger 2020#napowritmo2020 Day 25Inspired by: #skyloverwordlist - rockery
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Blog postuprooting an oakto concrete the moon’s canvasknifes the dreamer’s heart
dark groves of stacked bricksblind the eyes of star seekersand drains poets’ ink
an acorn can’t growin a valley of streetlightsor nest morning’s song
©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowritmo2020 Day 21
Inspired by: #skyloverwordlist - parables - Real Toads - Tree MythologyReal Toads - April 2020 - Day 21 -
Blog postbell jars can’t harboursecrets or butterfly wingsconstraint’s paradox
©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowrimo2020 Day 17
Inspired by: #skyloverwordlist - harbour
Real Toads - April 2020 - Day 17 -
Blog postCalled heretic and April’s witch,Emma dons a thorned crownand carries her totem, Lepus, into her persecution as if it washer coronation.
Resurrection comes every springin a love ballad written withyellow notes of daffodils risenfrom winter’s death…
What hell would suggest she be damnedfor finding God in Easter’s pastel eggsgently laid in wombs of grass to blessa child with discovery?
Emma has no argument with a cross.It was Mother Earth’s limbs severedto display the agony of a -
Blog postThe insistent urgeto sculpture ink into poetryis a like running barefooton gravel, a finish line never crossed.
For every poem released to a reader’s eyescarries a poet’s sigh of incomplete.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowritmo2020 Day 8 and #skyloverwordlist ~ craft
Real Toads ~ April 2020 ~ Day 8 -
Blog postOthers, a wordoutside myselfthat places mein the anonymityof a dandelion wind,a seeded storm of wishessearching for a place to bloom.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowrimo2020 Day 6
Inspired by the Real Toads Prompt ~ Speaking in the Voice of Another
Real Toads ~ April 2020 Day 6 -
Blog postI want to lie downamong the fernwhere moss thrivesand defiant lightslips through selfishoak leaves feedingon the sun … Let the wild greennourish my spirit with resilience.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
#napowrimo2020 Day 4
Real Toads ~ April 2020 ~ Day 4
Books By Susie Clevenger
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