We always argue on Tuesdays,
an incidence regular and ticking
as the timer set to a frayed fuse
for a man who has made art
of anger, slow, gradual–
a daisy killer pulling petals
from a yellow center
of what used to be summer;
fresh, upturned for sun
and not a sharp snap of the stem.
It’s not even love
he’s trying to decode
with his countdown,
but what will set him off next.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Tuesday Tantrums perhaps? Nice one Suz 🙂 Loved – a daisy killer pulling petals
from a yellow center of what used to be summer;
Thanks, Jen. Actually wrote this last night, and used the scheduler, because I posted so much yesterday. Like that–Tuesday tantrums.
Are there anger ssues this morning?
There definitely were yesterday, when I wrote this. Not so sure about today, as I just got up 😉
“for a man who has made art of anger”
such a waste of energy…and a wicked line sfam…xo
Thanks, SFAM, and I agree–a complete waste of ability.
good poem. very good.
Thanks much, Ray.
Yes. I can so picture this, sigh. Well done.
Thanks, Nelle. Had to use that daisy killer line…
The down-to-earth honesty of this got to me. You always turn mundane to magic, despite the pain.
Thanks, Jules. For me anger equals more energy than pain, that comes later. Sigh.
Collects frequent flyer miles and trades them in regularly on long trips. Sigh. Very good and real. I like the dark and bleak in poetry.
Alice, thanks. That’s it exactly. Anger miles. Hate to be around when they are redeemed. I tend to spend mine as soon as I get them–much less toxic, IMHO.
Susan. I’ve never had the patience to save them up either. They weigh too much. But then, I don’t take many trips that award anger miles. Alice
Alice–Love your wisdom and words. I try not to get angry, and usually succeed…much better to “talk” things out, but sometimes I need the energy of anger. It is not always a destructive thing, if the energy is turned to constructive things, like needed change. Am I off base thinking that can be true?
Susan, Absolutely on track. Some of my best writing (I think) comes as I work out/through how I came to feel angry about something. This can lead to vision for necessary changes and to energy to make the changes. If nothing ever felt bad, there would be no impetus for change. Alice
Good point, Alice.
your lines sing!
Oh, thank you! Even when they sting, too? That is the highest compliment.
I think it’s the singing which lifts our sorrows and makes them Art! You ARE an artist.
And you are one of the kindest, sweetest artists on here–thank you!
a daisy killer pulling petals
from a yellow center
of what used to be summer…what a fantastic image…anger made visible…very cool
Claudia, thank you!
Interesting that time and temper derive from the same root. But age has taught me there is not enough time for temper, or any other wastefulness.
I would think so… And the closer I get to 50 the more I realize it. Strange that a man already there does not, no?
I don’t know if it’s strange, but it’s certainly sad.
Agreed.
and it’s not even love he’s trying to decode…Susan…some seriously brilliant lines delivered here…but that one in particular…there is a face in my mind to match 😉
Tash, thanking you so much! Sigh. Mine too, as far as the face goes, unfortunately.
YES! Yes, yes, yes. Those last four lines are such inevitability…god, so poignant.
Thanks, Shrinks. It is why he will be alone from Wednesday onwards. Sigh.
Wow, you should have put THAT in there. I don’t know how you write how I am feeling so well…
Shrinks, oddly enough, that is how I feel about your stuff. I don’t like to put ultimatums in poetry, or definable endings (at least when it comes to relationship stuff–I might end up eating my words later if I do… Heh).
That is smart. I put it all in there, and just let it represent a moment, which could easily be misunderstood. Maybe I just don’t care…
That, dear Shrinks, is why you are a much better poet than I ever will be. I hold back, because words eaten later are bitter. Maybe I should just leave them be, and not eat them at all.
I do not believe for one moment that I am a better anything than you, and this is just indication that you can think further along than I am capable of. I look up to you.
Wow. I have no idea what to say now, except thank you. But when you look at me, look level. Damn, there you go–you have done it again–now I need to add that to my list of things to write after work… The rest of the tarot we are working on, though now I have a clear idea of what to do for death, the bathing one, and now… Looking level.
I love writing with you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <—not enough exclamation points in the world.
You rock, Shrinks…
art
of anger, slow, gradual–…ugh what an art eh? and not even love he’s trying to decode…both of those lines are felt susan…
Thanks, Brian.
human poet! I love your opening line and your perfect metaphor with petal pulling. really great, Susan.
Jane, thank you so much! That destructiveness… Could not think of a better way to describe it, so glad you like it.
I am extraordinarily envious of the daisy-line, Susan. That is a good example of poetry as a way of saying something in an way nobody else would think of. And why didn’t I??
Oh, Victoria, be glad you didn’t. It takes a certain amount of sulk and childishness in one’s romantic partner to imagine that line. Heh. Hope he won’t read the blog tonight…But, thanking you all the same. That line is the one good thing to come out of a marathon sniping match..
I agree
‘a daisy killer pulling petals
from a yellow center
of what used to be summer;’
is fantastic!
Hope things simmer down before Wednesday. 🙂
Aw, thanking you!
mmm??? what’s the truth here? i had a argument over nothing this morning!! makes me wonder
Where is the Food when mother is not?
maybe there is a pluto transit or something 😉
Daisy killer – I believe daisies grow back stronger after a chop! Hold tight : )
Decoding love sounds like a rather crazy kind of exercise, so much like the shadow of anger! There is so much helpless frustration in this poem, because there is a waiting for the cycle to begin again! Beautiful poetic capture of inclement light!
Gemma, thank you!
Nice one. I guess one out of seven ain’t bad – that still leave 313 argue free days. Maybe next week we could argue on Thursday, just to break the pattern. 🙂
Hahaha–love it. Can’t imagine arguing with you, Terr, even to break a pattern.
a daisy killer pulling petals
from a yellow center
really good to be able to write poetry after a row like this 🙂
great poetry
Bjorn, thanks.
Good thing life isn’t a string of Tuesdays
Yeah, that would be a very bad thing…
Bloody hell that made me edgy. Well done.
Makes me edgy too, Duncan–thank you!
oh nice..but I am thinking cliches …’and therein lies the sting’…and ‘he’s just not that into you’….sorry, but your poem speaks to me personally Susan..so I’ll have to copy and save it 😉 It’s shorter than my comment and generated so much response..
katy, wow, thanking you!