Tag Archives: poetry

6033: On bombs, philosophy, and dark matter

Posted on April 16, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

there is more room in space for dark matter than we calculated still, we cling to the dirt of a tilted planet in a lopsided universe and wonder how we skew so easily dark the answer is not in philosophy or … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 50 Comments

occasional poem for the 24th day of spring

Posted on April 14, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

Today is someone’s birthday but not in my house. The rising sap the snap of light against the window negate the chill say today someone is celebrating something and should just for the sake of the day unfolding.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 15 Comments

the dis-ease of shared humours

Posted on April 12, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

We fall into love easy, that prismed insanity with no asylum seen as rainbows arcing cursive a name across April and are lost to some happily ever but it is the after that bleeds– tearing away what’s grown together not with scalpeled cleanness … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 66 Comments

worrying (bone soup)

Posted on April 12, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

If this love is all that’s left, let me gnaw it let me scrape all taste from its bones, if bones it is, and crack them for marrow. I am less committed than hungry, bone sucking. Sucking bone, (more) hungry … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , | 54 Comments

cutting

Posted on April 11, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

The old physicians knew what we take in must be let out, but slowly, feeding leeches or lancets if  ink is blood and language the pulse driving it poetry becomes phlebotomy.

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 36 Comments

Tanka #1

Posted on April 11, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

What drives this knowing? Poets are people who walk through life with small flaws in cracked armor, allowing life to blossom beneath skin.

Posted in tanka | Tagged , , , | 36 Comments

building blocks (babble on babel)

Posted on April 11, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

Hubris is hard to own in its breaking down to a simplicity of matter, as if cells were stones, small ones, collectively tall enough to threaten heaven and make gods nervous. After falling I stack, borrowed piece by borrowed piece a remembered me, self-made without blueprints. … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 16 Comments