Hello!

Just a notice to let anyone know I have taken to posting my words on my main press page here: 

http://www.suemarie.info/

Peace! 

Sue 

i often wonder

i often wonder
what you see
through my eyes
looking into your own

i wonder
if my spirit
speaks
through my eyes
mouth
lips
hands
voice

my whines and cries

the way my hips
dance
from side to side

and how my palms
rest
ever so gently
upon my
skin

for you

i wonder
how it makes you feel
viewing me
in all of my
divine purity

i wonder
if it is the same feeling
when cool sweet breeze
brushes against your face
on a day, sweltering

or when rain
falls
tip tapping
gently
upon your tired brow

drop by sacred drop

or if it is like jumping
head first
into a waterfall
exciting and scary
simultaneous
cleansing your soul
making you feel

so utterly alive

or it may be
like witnessing a dream
while awake
unbridled and aware
fully conscious
of your surroundings

my only hope
is that what you witness
touches your body
as well as your mind

and that what you see
through my eyes
looking into your own
touches
your heart



© Susan Marie 

Jharna झरना [Waterfall]

On Audio HERE

i watched you sleep

like angels
birthed
from the golden eyes
of heaven

i watched you sleep
as the rain
fell
peaceful and calming
to me

my soul
watched you sleep
and your spirit,
spoke

and i watched you sleep
as rivers raged
and oceans roared
and Mother Nature quaked and came
then bellowed
from the very depths
of the crusts of caves

that this time is precious

like diamonds buried deep within the snow
and sand
as it falls from the palm of one's hand
and every solitary tear
never wasted in vain

like every smile

a song of hope

and i watched you sleep
like angels
birthed
from the golden eyes
of heaven

© Susan Marie

[Jharna means "waterfall" in Hindi]

 

She Rose

she rose

again

like ashes imprinted
on each foot raised
on the pads of aboriginals
before her

she rose
like the sun does daily
like the moon when she is full
like the coming of the fresh pure breath
of summer

she rose
like the wind
whipping leaves
autumnal
dashing and dangling the smell of Earth into the air

October
she rose

again
like the water
rising
and the ice princess
lifted
she rose
like an altar
looming before her
as a chalice is lifted
hands shaking
solemn
holding to her lips
pursed

she rose that cup
poisons of ages
of murder
and she rose
above the fires
the stakes
the burning pit
the executioners block
she rose
like spirit
above it all
above those beneath her

she rose
like a bird

taking flight
she rose

and the clouds
embraced her

gently.


© Susan Marie

Valhalla

 ON AUDIO HERE

 photo © Ronald Sorrento, Vietnam Vet, a peace sign made from m-79 high explosive grenade rounds

We are building roads to roads
that build roads to
nowhere

people are at the same time
sane and insane

are you listening
to the wind
as she whispers
when dawn drags her belly
pregnant and full
across the purpling skyline
as the sun
places her hand
ever so warmly
upon the nape of your neck

and the sea
bellows
stop
stop
stop
just stop and listen

no
do not even try
just be

good
follows
good follows
nature and trees
and all that is
Earth and dirt
and sand
and you and me

you
see
it is not easy
to
simply
be

left to right
to
center

as the Earth bellows
bombs
like airstrikes
on the innocent
and we keep voting
and protesting
and dying while alive
living in a
free state of
mind controlled
flight

where do I turn
when the world has gone mad
and everything is on a
merry
go round
and
rounds
of bullets fly
from lips, pursed
in hate
and anger
rising
like Valhalla

and the Valkyries scream like
eagles scrying

thunder

We are building roads to roads
that build roads to

nowhere

© Susan Marie

a thousand words

On audio HERE

 

i can write
one million poems
describing
the sweet breath
of breeze
like peaches in summertime
how they cool your brow and palette
on a day
that is sweltering,
simultaneous

or how the speech
of our forefathers
can never suffice
to explain the thoughts
that explode inside my brain
like atoms, splitting
supernovas in space
constellations ablaze
neurons sounding
and resounding
across synapses
like trapeze artists
on tripwires

and I can write
of the speech of animals
foreign to the human sense of sound
and how only they comprehend,
truly,
what they say
to one another

and I can even write of God and the heavens
the beauty of the skies at dawn and sunset
colors yet undiscovered
painted
for us all,
daily

i can write of it all
a thousand words
describing everything

yet not one word
or poem
can ever compare
to the softness of your gaze
like the canvas of the morning tide
or your silent roar
not unlike that of the mighty lion
or precisely how your spirit connects
to my very own

i can write of it all
mere words
i can write
one million poems

and not one can ever truly describe

you

but i can try


© Susan Marie

and the sky, she cries thunder

On Audio here

i've been thrown away
again

do you realize i told you
this would happen

you smiled and laughed
said there's no possible way
as you stared at me,
staring at you,
lovingly

and you liked that

and i smiled back
knowing the truth
yet to pass

my chest
full
my heart
pounding
trying not to

cry

i smiled

because you needed me to be strong
and i was a pillar
like now
spitting out bits of blood and bone meal marrow
seeping
from the tips of fingers
that writes words
beautiful
like you

but you threw me away
like some second hand thrift shop used shoes
human
being
with
a
heart

and you are not the first
you are one of many

and it has taken me a long time
to accept this absurd existence
i seem to keep choosing for myself

for it is not your fault
nor mine

but you threw me away

Dear God, there must be some greater good
to the muttering thoughts
that do not belong to me
they tell the truth
i push them away
in denial
that i am
thrown
away
again

i kneel under this dank dark grey winter skyline
hovering upon the Eastern shore
palms raised
lined, in supplication
oh, these hands of mine
writing words such as this
to deaf ears
to blind eyes
to uncaring hearts
to the bleeding mouths of those who suffer

but this is not the first time
nor the last

for i rise
like the sun
and rise
like constellations
and rise
like mountains echoing time
after time
that the sky
is
crying
thunder
again

i rise
because
i am love
i rise
because
i am free
i rise
because i am
different

you see
you once saw
like the others
we are
exactly the same
yet different
you see
you do not
see
we are
the same
yet different
because i

have
risen



© Susan Marie

you are like the sun, shining

On audio here

you are like the sun
shining
on a day
grey
bleak and dank

like when the cold rain
settles deep within your
bones
and city smog clogs your lungs

you are like the
sun shining on such days
while driving

a bird flutters by
with the flowers budding through
springtime's forever battle
with time

and you
the sun
shining

your energy is
Mother - Father nature
combined

and the clouds
gather in cirrus wonder
trying to block you
from reaching the
Earth

but
you
are
shining

like a stone tossed and turned
flipped over three times
skipped across a pond
ending on the bank of a river
turned upward
neck craned
feet planted
in dirt and silt
a part of history
of time long past
yet here and now
you are
the sun

shining
brightly

like

gold


© Susan Marie

I Call You Self

 On Audio HERE

I call you self

mirrored in an iris
solitary drops
of tears
the dew of morning, fresh
gracing petals
pristine and magnificent

I call you self
standing in baptism
in blessing
naked in purity
no weights nor burdens
as the wind
your voice
speaks volumes of ages
of antiquated species

I call you self
alive in the turbine
the hurricane
the tsunami
the earthquake
the deep rich soil
beneath footpads
in other worlds
times and lives

I call you self
the fresh breeze
that kisses my cheeks
as my head tilts upward
towards skies of cerulean

I call you self
my beloved
for I love self
and self is love
and all of this

existing

is divine
as a dream
as no sleep
as the deep black dark
velvet coat of night
as the rich morning burst
like a palette of desire
the sun
shines
for you, my self

I call you self
for you are alive
and all of this
for you
for the universe
is self
the moons, planets, stars
are an extension
of your heart

the leaves of the trees are your limbs, love
your spirit is self

in this world, this great expanse
this book of knowing
and not knowing
being and not being
laughing and crying
loving and letting go

in this immense skyscrape

you
are
self

do not discount your being
you may be but one feather
on the tip of the wing
of an angels flight
but you are golden
self

so be happy
be happy self

for you are self
and this is what I call you

for I am you
self
my beloved mine

I belong to only you
and my heart whispers poetry
in this hollow place
this beauteous world
this troubled time

come, come and smile, self
you were born with wings
that beat as thunder
with the volcanic rumbling
of Mother
Father
Earth

simultaneous

self
my love
beloved self

I call you self

© Susan Marie

My poem, my prayer

On Audio Here



The leaves
fall
like years,
Lord

My palms
upturn
to the naked sky
and I beseech Thee

The skies are turning
into snowclouds
above the Eastern skyline
while the trees
are still green
young,
and tender

Do you know
that when I lie down
at night
the wind,
she whispers names

I almost know them
by heart,
this song

My poem, my prayer

It's like a music box
that plays continuous
inside my chest
behind my sternum
sending blood
rushing
to my organs and limbs
sustaining life
existence,
only

If only
My poem, my prayer
were heard by one
gifted with sight
to recognize the light
of You
that resides within me

To feel the energy
of the Earth
alive within my breath

To look into my eyes
and know
that I am
a sentient being

To see my beauty
like one sees rivers and lakes
and stands
in absolute awe
of the wonder
of creation

Dear God,

How many poems and prayers
must I write
before I am seen
by those
who recognize
your
voice? 


© Susan Marie  

Miss Mother Nature

 On Audio Here 

 

 

my head
hurts 

like wounds caused
by gunshots

a bullet forced
by physics
through a barrel
thin
as the membranes
that separate
my temporal lobes
as they bulge
outward
waiting to explode
volcanic
thunder

like Mt St Helen
Vesuvius
a most fiery explosion
unrequited

Dear Lord,
my hands are lined
palms
rusted with blood
not my own
but the souls of others

and I have risen them
upward
towards you
in supplication

yet now, I wish to rest
knowing
that the world is on fire
like my brain
slowly, melting


bear my melodies and songs
they are my cries
disguised as madness
as angels in choir

do you hear my voice?

it whispers secrets
of those before me 
a most heartsick feeling
and my spirit is reeling
from simply 
existing
where I 
do 
not 
belong

and in the middle I stand
on tiptoes
as a child
trying my best
to peek over the ledge
without
falling

and my neck cranes
to the farthest borders
to the great continents
and I have sunk my teeth
much too deep
into the skin of humanity

and I bite
yet am starved
standing at the abyss
needing your hand
and the tip of the wing
of an angel

so I can breathe 

again.


© Susan Marie 

Such Things These Eyes They Wish To See

                                                   ON AUDIO HERE 

                                    "Madinah Sunset" by Qalb Par Nazar



i wish upon embers
falling from my eyes
not tears
but starshine
blazing and glorious
like the sunset over Makkah 

i wish i can take flight
like Iqbal's eagle
soaring and endless
searching for its place
insane
yet, oh 
so divine 

and i wish that my gaze
may one day fall
upon the both of you
smiling 
at me

as Muhammad must have smiled
at Khadija
a love so rare 

not quite romantic
yet unconditional 

as the love i have for you
simultaneous 

like blood brothers 
mine

eternal.

- Susan Marie 2013

[last poem of the year, for my two brothers]

How Can I Not Love You?

ON AUDIO HERE

                                                          © Susan Marie  


How can I not love you

you
just
bring
happy
thoughts
like

birds trilling in Spring
after the last snowfall
just like rain as it falls
quenching the deep thirst of this Earth

like the soil
rich and deep
with stories of our forefathers
and signals of smoke
rising from campfires
lost in the velvet night 
like souls rebirthing

every
single
second

How can I not love you
like I love myself
as I love the sun
as she shines her knowing eye
and the moon
as she keeps watch over our tired souls

How can one despise such beautiful sights
feelings
emotions
thoughts
passions
and states of simply
being?

For to not love you
is to not love myself
and to despise the sun and moon
the dirt and Earth
the canyons and mountains
rivers and valley

and the very edge
of a solitary blade of grass
as I watch it waltz
beneath a most pristine Autumnal sky

How can I not love you

when
you
just
bring
happiness

to
me.




© Susan Marie


For My Hermana del Alma, Te Amo, Paz.

Words Are Nothing More

ON AUDIO HERE 

words are nothing more
than the sky
crying
thunderous crystalline bolts
of pure esoteric passion
from the deepest crevices
that hide beneath my ribcage
as it expands
gently, rising
with each breath,
delicate

as my lips, purse
just so
perfect, like dreams
like pictures in magazines,
like art

like the sun and moon
how they love,
and the wind and rain
how they cry,
like the oceans and lakes
the rivers and seas,
as they quiver and quake
on the very edge
of a vortex of unbridled passion

exploding

like no nuclear fission ever fragmented
like no storm that has ever touched upon Earth
like no angels that have ever been heard singing songs of choir

like nothing
any human
has ever
experienced

except for the the rain
as it falls
ever so gently upon the roof
when unable to sleep

and like words
that are nothing more
than the sky

crying



© Susan Marie 

infinite

The sand
that falls
between fingers
splayed
entwined within another

are your lips
upon my own 

light as the air
that passes

ever so slightly

between
the knotted hands
of lovers

an hourglass
upturned

and time

infinite. 


© Susan Marie 

The Fates of Nations

 

 

ON AUDIO HERE

To those who decide
the fates of nations
lives
loss
blood
life
and bone

To those who do nothing
but complain
about their
good 
life

To those who never go
without
in order to give to those
who do

To those who realize
precisely what one is doing
with every action
thought
breath
with their wailing tongue
and blackened heart
paying homage to
greed
power
money
and nothing remotely
humane

To those who think prayer
is pointless
and faith
is an empty well

I echo my forefathers
when they escaped from
one nation
just to be treated harshly
in another

Crossing waters
on wooden ships
with disease
rats
no food or shoes

I echo their cries
as their newborns died
in arms of Mothers
from hunger

When sons died
fighting
age 12
for their birthright

When finally
they landed
the ones who survived
and set foot upon land
just to be made slave

To those who do nothing
and sit 
complacent
apathetic 
and ignorant 

It is for you, I pray
For you.

From the mouths of those
you step on -

from the souls you crush 
daily -

from the cracked and bleeding mouths
of our people -

All people
That suffer.

They pray -

For those who decide
the fates of nations.


© Susan Marie 


* Papa Francisco asked to bring peace to those who decide the fates of nations .  . . 

Death does not discriminate

Death does not discriminate.

There is no sexual
racial
religious
or political
bias

Death does not stifle
a solitary
human
right

Death comes riding
upon sweet summer's breath
and the scrying cries of eagles

Death does not laugh nor cry

It does not
hate
just as it does not
love

Like the universe
death is an unsympathetic force
neutral to all that exists
and unyielding
to human
suffering.


Unlike life.

Life is blood pumping
from atriums and ventricles
splitting atoms of breath
to capillaries, veins, and arteries

a massive systemic loop
bringing what is
not
needed
to the tree of life
the body
being
lungs
a pulmonary roller coaster
like the wind
whistling through pines
settling in leaves
sprawled
as innocent bystanders
in the earth and dirt

Life is subjective.
Unlike death.

Death 

does not discriminate.



© Susan Marie

just let go

Silent,
I sat

before me he
stood

virile
handsome
vibrant

he smelled of leather
and fresh linen

his eyes bore into
and above me

and I stared in awe

at this magnificent creation

of God



© Susan Marie

Jack in Fiction365

Published on ---> Fiction365

Today's Story by Susan Marie

Jack

 

I greeted the day curled up in the back seat.  Spending the night in my car was not what I had in mind when I agreed to take this job.  It was only supposed to be for two nights.  It is now going on day five.

Damn her, I thought. 

It was still dark outside. I lit a smoke and cranked down the window whistling some Dylan tune. I saw lights on in a window up the street. Hopping into the front, easing into the driver’s seat, I cursed her for leaving me in this town.

Then I saw the note. It was lying on the dash, her usual manila envelope with thick, black scroll on the front, my name, what she liked to call me:  Toni.  I tore it open, thinking how much I loved and hated this woman.

Toni, my love,

Get something to eat, wait for my call.

Love,

Jezelle

There was a twenty-dollar bill inside, crisp and pure.  Like Jezelle.  I snatched the smokes and headed up the street to Bobby’s.

Nobody stared at me when I strolled into the diner.  A good sign.  I could really use a drink, I thought. There were five people that I could see, not counting who might be in the kitchen or getting their jollies in the john. Two men in the back booth, an old man at the counter, and a girl in her teens.  She looked new. You could tell by the way she sat all hunched over looking cold.  She held her cigarette as if she were posing for a picture. I had to laugh. That was me three years ago. I felt sorry for her.

When I turned my gaze from the girl, behind the counter stood Bobby.  God, how I had missed her.  She smiled. I headed for the bathroom. I took off my coat, gave my face a quick rinse and stared straight ahead.

Nothing scarier than staring into your own eyes.

When I came out, Bobby already had my coffee ready, black, as usual, and a plate of toast.  I pushed the plate away and sipped the coffee.  The elderly man mumbled to God.  Egg yolk dripped down his stubbly chin.  I turned away, focusing on the two men.

This is how bad it’s gotten.  Two men in a diner, a twenty-dollar bill and a half pack of smokes.  So this is where it ends.  I couldn’t even drink my coffee thinking of the grimy hands that would soon be groping my breasts.

Bobby nodded.  It was time.  I choked down the cup and took a shot from the pint in my coat.  Nothin’ like ole’ Jack to give you a hug when you need it.

I sat down next to the blond guy and whispered,

“Hi, I’m Toni.  Jezelle sent me.”

They both grinned and the mulatto slid in next to me. Bobby quickly pulled down the shades.  I wanted to scream.

The white guy rubbed my thigh and I closed my eyes.  

I thought of Jezelle.  I always thought of Jezelle.  And at this moment, it was her lips upon mine, her hands on my body and my eyes searching for her, once again, in the darkness of Bobby’s diner.

——-

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every waking thought

On Poems and Poetry

 

every waking thought
is the flight of a monarch
before each bud that blooms 

she gathers
from both hemispheres
left and right,
like her wings
birthed twins,
where every waking thought
begins
- as a first breath
- and the last gasp

where dreams become life
in the dank cloak of midnight
gaining momentum
churning the vortexes
of hurricanes

such raw passion

complicated
never simple

a thought
is the genesis of energy
the beginning of understanding
a means to communicate 
the subconscious of the artist,
insane
writing words such as this
solely to prevent the skull
from bursting,
spewing bits of memories
and rivers of tears, endless
that never run dry

a place where angels reside
sitting upon clouds
of sentences

the most holy poets -

sending telegraphs
to the chosen. 



© Susan Marie 2013