Posts Tagged ‘birth; poetry; emotional’

Graphic Art by Susan Joyner-Stumpf

(aka sonnetwolf designz)

 

Autobiography

Born at the time

Of moon when all is yearning:

At the moment of equinox,

A primeval tap into deep deprival

Of stillborn longing.

Love and grief:  i ache the same.

A torture ignited

By the celestial sigh

Of tearful smile

And laughter unwept.

I am the mistress of sorrow:

Flesh to flesh, i don’t bond so easily.

Intimacy paves the path towards

Infinite loss.

I am approachable in dreams

Wavering between the thrust

Of dawn with twilight ~

(when most loneliness happens),

Where the fire of passion is sinister

Because it’s the spirit that reeks surrender

And ultimate seduction.

Born at the time

Of moon when all is yearning:

I was that shooting star you held in

Your stain-glassed eyes ~

yet you blinked,

never to see me fall.

*•.¸♥♥¸.•*

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

Trajectory

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

A LIFE FOR A LIFE

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

lifeless,

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 – –

yes:

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,

for

you’ll never know

that I Died for you.

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

WHEN GOODBYE

IS NOT ENOUGH

(for a pet)

 

our eyes locked

as the vet sunk the

needle into her little soul.    

 

can you forgive me?

I pleaded far beyond

where tears are allowed to go;

a place inside broken stars

and where mountains

crumble steep when we’re not looking.

 

I think as I looked up towards

those painful fluorescent lights on

the ceiling, further away into

an unknown abyss

than even she,

 

I asked of God:

  why my

cat, why now?

 

the gentle nudge of an ethereal

answer stroked across my sorrow

like a soothing feather,

speaking to my sinking heart:

 

because I need her.

 

as I walked away, I heard

the vet’s small voice trailing

the distance

between us…do you want to take her home?

 

some familiar sound spilled from me

giving him a faint, almost inaudible

yes, but it

sounded more like an echo wherever

they go when they are shattered.

 

I didn’t even remember words

dropping like dying butterflies

from my frozen lips…

 

what was left of my

existence came crashing down

all around me once I stepped outside

into winter’s cold, unforgiveable embrace

 

and into the alien world of a

cruel and cat-less dawn.

 

*•.¸♥♥¸.•*

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

Birth, II

Posted: October 28, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags:

Birth, II

 

Does it matter

that no one asked

or did they

with spiritual tongue

of transparent precipice

that on this fateful day

fetal-safe sleep

against uterine walls

shall abruptly awaken

into crimson pain.

 

Screams of an umbilical voice

entrenched in

placenta-liquid deafness

will pierce alien air

with infant rejection.

 

And a cold world shall meet

this expectant ejection

into clinical hands

of grasping strangers ~

 

our first step and we

risk everything

walking into flesh.

~ ~

© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf