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Author Archives: Susan L Daniels
the color of water
My eyes express the color of water, Borrowed from sky and surface light, masking What is simple and set to a shifting Dance of shade, nothing fixed, but much broader Than any definition that’s offered. Truth changes, though I won’t call … Continue reading
to all recovering baptist girls with tarot cards under their beds
Her parents called it occult, or a less forgivable act of knowing before faith, without the blind not-quite-trust herds have, more obstinacy that thinks it is led by unseesn shepherdy to where it wants to go, but she sees sheeple, … Continue reading
Originally posted on A Prayer Like Gravity:
I chew with my brains. I eat with my eyes and ears. I shit with my mouth. Values vary invariably between us in the unobserved interval, an interval forever unobservable. Our projects extend,…
Posted in New Free Verse
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poets are like onions
Shrek: For your information, there’s a lot more to ogres than people think. Donkey: Example? Shrek: Example… uh… ogres are like onions! [holds up an onion, which Donkey sniffs] Donkey: They stink? Shrek: Yes… No! Donkey: Oh, they make you … Continue reading
That line
You take a photograph of yourself, shirtless, vulnerable to show where they split and stapled you together more intimate than mirrors tell it I see your fragility , the determination ringing tired eyes, spun with the surety of flesh reknitting
four words to break winter
These trees greet Spring skeletal and plural, branches barred in a twill weave, just green at the budding tips as the roots release sap that coalesces to sugar feeding the season or boiled down in kitchens to its dark promise, staining … Continue reading
Susan Daniels Poetry 