Archive for January, 2012

Graphic Art by Susan Joyner-Stumpf (© SonnetWolf Designz)


Simple slight of hoof

Beats hard the dust

And carves through

Space with invisible wing

His manner of weeping

To keep me in longing

Parade of brilliance

Fine Ivory horse

Of silken unbridled power

You corral intangible wind

As though your mighty

Royal seed

Nostrils drink of stolen rain

Frightening storms your children

I ache beneath the thunder

Of them that rage beyond

My grasp ~ I sit

Here fused to stone

Tears made of blown glass

Shorn of secrets

The millennia has whispered

With galloping lust

Outside the deafened

Aura of our bloodsouls

Oh ~ cursed are we for

Once to be a mere Human!!!


© Susan Joyner-Stumpf


What spoon of withered white

Cast its shadow high and still

Left with frozen regret

Merely invisibleness left to mourn

Stark the gifted glare

Trajectory of bleeding air

Satin spins its weathered tear

Kiss of infamy

Passion slips into sleep, re-thorned.

Oh how we tremble

When loneliness taps

That heartless door

Chaos hums with bruised light

Faint of darkness sweet

Eerie taste of sullen echoes

That weeps out stars tonight.

Spill out a new but crusted dawn

Eyes close to the brilliant hues

Yet what loins gave up their fiery fight

Its comet shackled in frozen flight

To speak your unloved name, alas

Not of an airy voice divine

That made you an orphan again!


© Susan Joyner-Stumpf





Who thought not

enough of you


to feel the thickness

of their own blood-black Soul


its drip

down icy stems of poisoned leaves

left to gasp and wither

in the acrid air.




anything at all

that loved you once


remembers your unconditional    gleeful





if human,


the beautiful way you smiled to everyone

in the face of tragedy or un-Godly betrayal.


Both ~ ~

With your infinite

and insatiable

impulse to always forgive . . .


Both ~ ~

Could not have known


you were soon to

outwardly face head-on

the opposite side of the coin

as evil winked in.


For all living things found

in dump heaps


I think you go to a special place


a place where Monarch butterflies

fly from the juicy ripeness and sweetness

of your lips


where song-birds speak for you

as though coming from

your own throat


where a million wild flowers

bloom inside

your brilliant heart.


© Susan Joyner-Stumpf


Lay down your infinite fears;

I hold you.

And I feel the rumblings inside,

a chasm of unspoken tears

            never before this day cried.

So I weep them all for you.

I see all the living that stayed


great moments you wanted to run but instead fell,

when you reached out for the sweetness of Heaven

but ended up tasting bitter Hell,

worry not, I breathe it all for you.

Let go of the pain,

I’ll drain the bleed

of your wounds from you.

I’ll take the knives that carved your heart,

and mend back the pieces torn and ripped apart – –


as sure as I found paradise behind broken eyes,

soared with your tortured Soul inside rain-drenched skies,

keep on going when the Grim Reaper knocks, too,


you’ll never know

that I Died for you.

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

I’m Not Addicted to PSP or Computers…

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Just wish that I didn’t get hungry. That means I have to get up and go fix a sandwich, or worse yet, dinner for the entire family.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Just wish that while I’m sitting at the computer drinking water or coffee or tea, it wouldn’t make me go to the bathroom so much. Never knew until know how convenient it would be to be hooked up to a catheter.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Do I really have to find a “real job” out there “in the real world” and leave my computer here and all my graphic ideas that will fade to nothing because I will come home too exhausted to remember them?

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Is that my cat knocking stuff over in the pantry closet that I left open? Is that my dog scratching and whining to go outside to pee? I don’t see myself jumping up to go see them anytime soon. I’m in the middle of a delicate copy and paste operation here.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Was that the phone ringing? Good thing I have caller ID and an Answer Phone. I’m in the middle of a cut here with the selection Tool. One wrong move and I have to start over.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. That button on your shirt sure would make a nice Sig Tag with perhaps a gem cloned in the middle and my name beneath it with the BlackChancery Font.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Sleep? Who has time? I have a WET to do something with, and a TOW in another group, and a SOW in this Group, and lets not forget the WSC.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. I have a fever of 102. I can’t breathe. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. But I sure can find time to make a new frame from a Tut over the Internet.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. I’m at the movies with my spouse. I’m eating a Romantic Dinner at a Restaurant we can’t afford. And what am I thinking about? How this great tube on this site would look beautiful in a recently snagged Script.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. And now I’m thinking of the great midi that would go with the above Stat I’m getting ready to post.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Vacation? Does that mean I will be away from my Groups and the Computer? Honey, find a Hotel that is near an Internet Café, or, better yet, could you buy me a Lap Top before we hit the Road for two weeks?

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. When filling out my driver’s license application doesn’t everyone gives their IP address, right?

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. My spouse and I have a wonderful line of communication, its called We Email Each Other.

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. My spouse told me he wants me to spend more time with him instead of in front of the computer or its over, we’re finished. I say to him, “since you make the most money between us, are YOU paying for the Divorce and can I have custody of the Computer?”

I’m not Addicted to PSP OR COMPUTERS. Doctor, you mean I have 2 months to live? Better hurry and get some of those Scripts I haven’t played with done……..Lord, are there Computers in Heaven? I hope so. I can’t imagine Eternity without them. Beam me up, I’m plugged forever.

Written by: Me, Susan, who, of course, is not addicted.

~ ~

Author’s Note:

PSP = Paint Shop Pro, a very expensive and Powerful Graphics program. Some of the terminology like WET, TOW AND SOW and WSC refer to Graphic course stuff, so, ignore it.  It’s how I create all my graphics. But remember guys, you can substitute anything here that is YOUR addiction: like gardening, reading, etc. You get the idea.

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf



The wick of our passion

Has finally died out

I try to resuscitate the embers

But its fire refuses to re-ignite


And I stare blandly into the lonely

Thick of night, wondering if

Your eyes also strain to find me

Despite the burning smoke and mist


Or is it solely I

Scrambling for one last match

To rekindle this blind, cold world


Who squeezes me to its hollow breast

With breaking sound barrier silence

~ alas to its fatal, indifferent,

And suffocating embrace




© Susan Joyner-Stumpf



The earth wobbles from a shifted axis.

Today, a bird lost its sonar, crashed into

My windshield.

We pay for air, for space, for water.  Shouldn’t that be free?

~ we’re on edge.

Roaches have been here over a million years; they’ll out live us by millennia.

Stock markets fluctuate.

Cost of living spirals out of control.

Salaries stay the same.

 ~ we’re on edge.

Starvation is on the rise.  Why?

Yellowstonenational park is crumbling.

Antarctic glaciers are melting.

Rain forests are being butchered.

Natural catastrophes are becoming more frequent.

 ~ we’re on edge.

Animal cruelty is rampant.

Prejudice still exists.

I saw a kitten thrown from a speeding car.

I heard of a puppy drowned in the

River; he had been locked inside

The coffin of a suitcase with no way out.

Today, on prime time news, it was

Reported a young mother stuffed her

Newborn infant inside a draw-string

Trash bag in the city dumpster

Where it ended up at the local landfill.

 ~ there is no more edge.

                                                we fell off.


© Susan Joyner-Stumpf


Wish I’d been better in math
but Geometry refused to love me.
And I got constantly lost in
hypothetical equations and
numerical values.
But I knew of days never constant,
their finite moments failing in an
imperfect world.

Had I studied harder fractal patterns,
would my sorrows have been less
algebraic, my joys more in tune
with calculus? What percentage
of assurety would I have today?

I know only that the sun doesn’t set
in Pi; and Stone Man lived never
touching resolution nor its
objective pyramidal properties.
His world existed non-circumference.
Would nonlinear have made me beautiful,
perhaps a smile more of absolute;
or maybe integrals would have gained
me riches beyond fractional trig.

All I know is I was never good
in Math, but enough to know,
enough to regret,
the intolerable years
it would take to get over
one-millionth of you
from Absolute Zero.



© Susan Joyner-Stumpf


Beautiful Death

Shower of acorns

airborne tumble

of the Ladybug

fall knocks hello

on the spine of summer

to announce its debut

move over green lushness

hues of russet and gold

are about to blanket the

landscape as skillfully

as an artist with his

acrylics and pastels

the concert begins

of the symphony of

ash and sycamore seeds

in this eternal ritual

as life takes front stage

in its dance with beautiful death

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf