Author Archives: Susan L Daniels

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About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?

the raccoon (2 haiku)

phantom flash of stripe masked bandit stuffs strawberries into laughing mouth paws counterfit hands shaped for stealing tomatoes prints proof he was here

Posted in haiku, micropoetry | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Gender Games

you said, you wear the pants an accusation, as if yielding is female and providing direction strictly male, as if gender holds importance for us tradition has no place here; we are simply 2 people stumbling toward family any way … Continue reading

Posted in free verse poetry, New Free Verse, relationships | Tagged | 5 Comments

Raising tomatoes and Cain–a meditation

“There is always the temptation in life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for years on end. It is all so self conscience, so apparently moral…But I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that … Continue reading

Posted in Annie Dillard, New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

April

I usually lack the discipline to write true haiku, preferring bare-bones free verse I fondly call bastardized haiku, but when I had a 5-syllable image in my mind this morning, I decided to go with it.  Happy spring, all! outside … Continue reading

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Easter

Last year I spent this time holding the thin hands of a dying woman.  I brought flowers from mother’s garden:  hyacinth, daffodils, forsythia.  It rained, as it rains today; water presses my hair flat and I walk, remembering. I could … Continue reading

Posted in 1986, free verse poetry | Tagged | Comments Off on Easter

ice embraces azalea branches velvet buds held unmoving (insects in amber)

Posted in 1986, free verse poetry, micropoetry | Tagged | Comments Off on

I could tell you of times poems split my skull the moment of conception or the hours I pace before real pain begins pushed from inside myself words come screaming in rivers of blood. My head hurts. You read my … Continue reading

Posted in 1987 | Tagged , | Comments Off on