Posts Tagged ‘Poet’

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

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GOD ON SPEED DIAL

 

God, I need you now,

can you visit

for just

a

while?

If I could, I’d fax

or email you

every day.

I’d put you

on speed

dial.

I would turn around

and you’d be

standing there,

and with your

ethereal

fingers,

you’d delete away

all broken

songs, paste

in its place

all

anew.

Oh I know my

prayers have been

many; maybe some

even

funny.

But something tells

me you never

laughed, that you

hear each one ~

and for all

those not yet

answered,

they’re in the

download

process of

being

done.

The dreams ~ the

many starry dreams

I’ve so longed for…

forgetting to enjoy

the one

I’m

in.

The one you gave

me unconditionally,

this immortal

gift of

life I already

live

in.

Are we in your browser,

Heavenly Father,

as you scan and

Google this expanse

of universe

and intangible

stars

for our faint

breaths infinitely

dear and

needing

you?

I hear your golden

Trumpet voice

splice the white noise

that hides in

the plasma

radio.

Will you ride in

on the beautiful

white stallion

Gabriel who

was my

first

horse?

God, I know that

each and everyone

of us is

in your

Favorites.

It is us

that accidently

step away,

erase your

divine

Profile.

It is YOU, O’Lord,

as the

Bible proclaims,

that restoreth

our lost

and wanton

Souls.

God, I need you

now, yesterday

is too

late.

Besides, I’ve lost

my phone and

all its

apps and contacts.

Thank goodness your

stigmatic-number

is imprinted

upon

my

forgiven

heart.

*•.¸♥♥¸.•*

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

A POET’S SACRIFICE

A ball of pandemonium

and yet you choose

(with pinprick decision)

to hear only the graphic

A POET'S SACRIFICE

echoes of goodbye

its delivery

as exact as deliberate cruelty

as fundamental as a climax.

One can only cheat

the system for so long

before injured repercussion

(scars and all)

add up

come to their raped senses

and bounce back three-fold

like an abused Tiger

cornered in his cage

pacing the perimeter of smallness

Topaz eyes ablaze

with golden sorrow

staring out to the

blistering disregard

for his animal needs

the same we possess

once confronted with

searing uncertainty

swiping us down like

a wingless fly ~

like a shiver

in water-proof boots

but not a bullet-proof

projectile of targeted

hate.

Soaring through atmospheres

no destination  in mind

merely this journey of

dimensional fear beaten

down to unfathomable madness.

One gauntlet of misconception

guiding ill-fated psyche

that normally would have

prayed for remorseful amnesia

if given the courtesy to mourn

but instead is left to remember

that sometimes,

love falls like fuselage

out of tortured sky

just as quickly

as evil catches us

off guard, at times,

rises to the peaks of Heaven

and they meet

but rarely

in cohesive unity

except in the

mind and Soul of Poets

born to cosmic rupture

and who survive just

long enough

to

            bleed

                        about

                                    it.

~

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf