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Category Archives: 1986
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
Language of Silence
Like images clouds suggest, shadows on the wall form words I know but have forgotten. All day I trace strange calligraphy, lips taste impossible vowels, fingertips learn only smoothness of wood, the testure of plaster tough as a cat’s tongue.
Two nice girls (for Cynthia Ball-Williams)
He calls us lady-poets but our words are not pretty. Our voices are not pink sighs to fold neatly and stack in dresser drawers. Woman poetry screams, bites, fucks until dawn, does not know shame. Like jungle cats they stalk, … Continue reading
Posted in 1986
Tagged mature, poetry, Poetry free verse
Comments Off on Two nice girls (for Cynthia Ball-Williams)
Sleepless
Night moves over me (weightI do not want),presses itself against my lipsin a cold kiss, mouth sharpas a knife blade. Leaves move against the window,so many hands sliding open-palmed across glass.Hands made to hold precisely nothing,like my hands,hands that move … Continue reading
Daniel in Bluejeans
Stained sneakers scuffing sidewalk, hands stuffed in the pocket of a torn pea-coat Daniel in bluejeans screams sermons into frozen air. Red-bearded, handknit cap hiding long curls, he’s a latter-day prophet promising damnation. Across the street Neojesus preaches free love, … Continue reading
before the season
I am impatient in love just like that first yellow crocus knows it is foolish to open early but still pushes through the thin crust of snow expanding eagerly inside March air clean & treacherous as ice
Susan Daniels Poetry 