Haiku Heights Prompt: Meaning

Posted on July 21, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

superstitious boy
hops across cracks in sidewalks
each leap meaning love

Posted in haiku | Tagged , , | 32 Comments

catching something big

Posted on July 20, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

if I write of ants
or the movements of the earth
or even a dance of planets
I can only guess at

if I write of you
of how one touch
flowers me

or if I write
of deeper love
than this new one;
finely woven
tenderly & impersonally
through all matter

those strings theoretically
binding together singularity
into wholeness,
threads that still shiver
pan-dimensional ripples
from that creation cry

but these do
speak-sing to one knowing

too big to catch at once
in my ordinary net

so I see it only
in flashes

under water

& escaping

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

the new gods still have clay feet

Posted on July 20, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

the world is getting
terrifyingly small
he said, the immediacy
of data exchanges
& satellited conversations
compress it

perhaps

perhaps, we lessen the planet
somehow to our scale
when we do not measure distances
in miles or kilometers

but rather span it
in vision faster than thought
scattering
across this globe

wired, we can forget
how fragile we are, or how small
with our eyes fixed
not on the earth
or the sun and moon reeling
indifferent to our perception

but on screens

that tell us we are the new gods
of these synthetic worlds we shape

but still breaking
where we meet the dirt

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , | 16 Comments

in relation to heaven

Posted on July 20, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

my words are ladders
past sky to stars

here I stand
point

to where they spread

a burning
remote
but intimately seen
& each named

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 4 Comments

the second day of rain

Posted on July 20, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

light-fingered drums
on a tin roof
we have missed
this music

singing dust to earth
to an under bare feet
yielding
we can sink toes in

I did not dance
to bring this
but I will
dance inside it

while squash blossoms
sigh throats open
tasting water

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

XTC–River of Orchids

Posted on July 20, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

XTC
River Of Orchids

Hey!
I heard the dandelions roar in Piccadilly Circus
I heard the dandelions roar in Piccadilly Circus
Take a packet of seeds
Take yourself out to play
I want to see River of Orchids where we had a motorway
Push your car from the road
Push your car from the road
Just like a mad dog you’re chasing your tail in a circle
Just like a mad dog you’re chasing your tail in a circle
It’s all in your back yard
You’ve the whole world at your feet
I said the grass is always greener when it bursts up through concrete
Push your car from the road
Push your car from the road
River of Orchids winding our way
Want to walk into London on my hands one day
River of Orchids the road overgrows
Want to walk into London smelling like a Peckham beggar rose
Just like a mad dog you’re chasing your tail in a circle
Just like a mad dog you’re chasing your tail in a circle
It’s all in your back yard
You’ve the whole world at your feet
I said the grass is always greener when it bursts up through concrete
I had a dream where the car is reduced to a fossil
I had a dream where the car is reduced to a fossil
Take a packet of seeds
Get yourself out to play
I want to see River of Orchids where we had a motorway
Push your car… It’s all in your back yard…
Push your car… Take a packet of seeds…
River of Orchids winding my way
Want to walk into London on my hands one day
River of Orchids the road overgrows
Want to walk into London smelling like a Peckham rose
River of Orchids… I heard the Dandelions…
River of Orchids… Just like a mad dog…
River of Orchids… I had a dream…
River of Orchids…

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 4 Comments

priestess of base matter

Posted on July 19, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

this ritual propitiation
speaks to how not everything is God
or a god, but those
fingerprints
of His in
celestial swirled particles
breathe here

& resonate

my mother
when she found
an anthill

theoretical or found
evidence of touch

of all holy

in base matter

boiled water
in a huge pot
ending the colony
with a careful deep pour

sometimes twice

I will try instead
recognition,
this gift of sugar cubes
in a trail away
from my foundation

borax circles the house already–
a scent they hate
& tansy
but perhaps a present
so sweet

will rouse those small minds
to wonder too
about our large, clumsy
singular being

& they will remember us
gently

no match for the smallness
and collective we(s) of ants

but still family

***here’s mine, Jeremy.

Posted in New Free Verse, Religion and Spirituality | Tagged , , , , , | 21 Comments