Tag Archives: poetry

my eyes hold the colors

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

my eyes hold the colors of this water stirred up we swim in their reflection

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

when to listen

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

when I speak smoothly and bring you armfuls of smiling word bouquets what I say is not as important as what the spaces between words tell you when I stammer

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 14 Comments

a marriage and a mistress (of sorts)

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

I meant to write that great american novel once so married to the idea i wanted to keep poetry comfortably on the side, straying only once or twice a week i never intended him to move in and take over all … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

the gift: a huitain

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

The mailbox teased, withholding for nine days this gift of images; a world, a mind, a map to your soul, in a written maze I follow until dizzy in it.  I sift through the silt of your words, and I mine … Continue reading →

Posted in dverse poetry prompt, New Free Verse | Tagged , , , | 43 Comments

weaving the impossible

Posted on August 15, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

interesting, this; how we move separately but in unison, a choreographed spontaneity that we meet and learn from each other & defy miles in the way these throats open as one singing voice braided smoothly, or threads strung on opposing edges of … Continue reading →

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

the land tortoise

Posted on August 15, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

if stone had eyes they would be these two unblinking pebbles on this head tilting to watch me balanced on this small dinosaur neck curved in an S then straightening to an I she is writing me in cursive though … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 16 Comments

whatever color heron (s)he is

Posted on August 15, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

this is why I wait on the bank mouth stung with the acid of tomatoes to watch this heron my aunt called blue but my mother insisted was officially green argument never settled & unimportant to this bird stilting in … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 5 Comments