Someplace imaginary

Posted on April 1, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

I can pretend innocence,
say the me he dreams
is all him, but
when he says somewhere imagined
he is mine completely,

and there, together
we will be gods
catching moonlight in buckets
poured into pools to swim in,

he has spoken a place
where I could spin
thread from clouds
that he can string stars on,
like beads
so I can wear suns
in a necklace.

Sure, I might not
have started this
and can pass polygraphs
testing for things
I’ve not (yet) committed,
but there’s no hiding
the truth in a simile
much less a smile.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 18 Comments

speak it

Posted on April 1, 2013 by Susan L Daniels 
No stranger to myth
I have shaped gods;
golden calves,
     baby bulls of heaven
     recast before any
     can approximate worship
 because my God is jealous
 already, his world
   gravid with idols
 , and
                    iconoclastic
    I would beat them
 back to chains,
heavy on the neck
      but so shining:
      whether jewelry
      or deeper bondage 
I  leave open
      to interpretation
  because both are heavy.

Instead of worship
I would have this mouth
under my solar plexus
open and speak a deeper bloom
than any made rose.
Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , | 16 Comments

James was right about a lot of things

Posted on March 31, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

James was right
about a lot of things
and if he heard
the words your lips made

he would wonder
if you would try
ever
to kiss me
with that mouth

or if I could
taste past the bitterness
rolled under your tongue

Posted in addiction, faith, life, loss of love, New Free Verse, relationships | Tagged , , | 17 Comments

Inana

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

Before Babylon was synonymous
with sin, what she sold was holy,
the closest we got to paradise
when the dead went nowhere but down,
jealous of ritual meals and scant libations.

Now, she paints her mouth
redder than nightshade,
sweet poison.
For $40, she’ll siphon bitterness
from seed, and take it
unplanted to her belly
and call it sustenance
because, like what’s dead
she is always hungry.

There is no temple here,
in this city that soils
what was sacred.
When heaven
had its queen,
sex was worship;
a divine marriage
returning Spring
to the desert,
life:

Go ahead,
call her a whore.
Where she comes from,
that used to be
the highest compliment.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , | 81 Comments

A Haiku a Day in April

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

Well, as I am sure you are aware, April is National Poetry Month, and to celebrate, the folks at Haiku Heights (click on the name for more info) are running a haiku-a-day challenge, with prompts.  I am not sure I am going to do this (I am feeling a little rebellious about prompts lately), but I thought I would share the site and the list with you guys!

I am planning on sharing a poem a day, just not sure if it is going to be a haiku a day.

Here you go.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged | 5 Comments

Posted on March 29, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

Wow. Good Friday, Shrinks style. Love it.

Posted in New Free Verse | 2 Comments

pass(ing)over

Posted on March 29, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

what parent
chooses one child
over another

or a people

sending frogs and flies
to prove a point
of preference

the blood on the lintels,
the bodies of children
shattered like clay pots

the shouts of those parents, echoed
are more bitter than any herb you eat
to remember the price
of freedom.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , | 27 Comments