Tag Archives: poetry

unbulletproof

Posted on June 8, 2022 by Susan L Daniels

I am without words which are weapons & wrap me like arms without rocking & rest heavy against my chest the way a bulletproof vest would if I had one if we all had one I wouldn’t be writing about … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Lessons from the black death

Posted on November 13, 2020 by Susan L Daniels

This breath Is for always This heart, too Never ticks down Like an unwinding watch Until it does Because everything stops Eventually Immortality the lie We whisper to ourselves The moment before sleep

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

I don’t see color

Posted on June 10, 2020 by Susan L Daniels

I don’t see color they say but I do, we are no stewpot where everything simmers to a bland monotone as if a melting pot is a goal not an impossibility– for every us there is a them I don’t … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Full strawberry moon

Posted on June 6, 2020 by Susan L Daniels

A day named this on my calender ought to be heady, sweet round with the promise of summer & growing things Not this bitter harvest of a seed pressed deep in new world dirt 500 years ago but we must … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 10 Comments

This is not why we are born

Posted on March 15, 2019 by Susan L Daniels

This is not why we are born, So that our deaths and the men that make then can become the next step in the social medialization of outrage, the emoji tears for a murder scattered in bytes and not sliding … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Base economy

Posted on June 29, 2017 by Susan L Daniels

The food pantry is out of rice but has plenty of boxed potatoes leaving room for barter a base economy of beef stew traded for tomato soup or egg noodles for rice Me?  I wanna be base-less and free of … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Kummerspeck

Posted on April 27, 2017 by Susan L Daniels

They call it grief bacon that cushion of extra tasty layered over pain It is not delicious? Nothing sweeter than old tears lacing chocolate.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 9 Comments