Archives
- June 2025
- March 2025
- June 2022
- November 2021
- September 2021
- February 2021
- January 2021
- December 2020
- November 2020
- October 2020
- June 2020
- April 2019
- March 2019
- May 2018
- February 2018
- August 2017
- July 2017
- June 2017
- April 2017
- January 2017
- December 2016
- November 2016
- July 2016
- May 2016
- January 2016
- November 2015
- September 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015
- October 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- December 2013
- November 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
-
Join 1,550 other subscribers
Blogroll
Monthly Archives: August 2013
remembering animal
If life is motion, then we are the tellers of it, that primal spin in the pit of the pelvis a purposed flutter more tangible than a plus on an EPT or circled days on the Monet calendar. So much … Continue reading
Posted in New Free Verse
13 Comments
occasional poem
an occasional poem for no reason says simply thanks for being
Posted in New Free Verse
11 Comments
life before cable
we are snow after the anthem and test pattern licked blue on the walls after midnight, those old antennaed ghosts, doubled and hissing prayer to a bandwidthed god
Two Fibonacci poems from my spam folder
Please check the spare shoelaces, recognizable across earth for their welcome woosh. We will often defend a misunderstanding that always trusts what the stars said.
My sun is coming up
If this is how you love, lover in a dance of steel and teeth, feathering pain across unwilling skin, take your need somewhere else, because your kisses leave me bloodless and I am no admirer of vampires, even those with metaphorical fangs.
Posted in New Free Verse
Tagged emotional abuse, emotional vampires, gender-based violence, loss of love, monsters, poetry, vampires, verbal abuse
35 Comments
water lifts up those leaves floating seasonal teases on a platter of color. gifts that touch us briefly– a butterfly kissing game flame-brushed & gone as fast as it is felt
Midnight of the Spaghetti Western
The rolls the piano plays spin a dialogue scripted between greed and pathos, existential angst scaled over horse lather and cattle wearing new brands. The real west was rougher and more honest than this. Still, there is room for me … Continue reading
Susan Daniels Poetry 