Posts Tagged ‘poetry; emotional’



moments recorded in

                        The Book of Regrets

behind inhuman pens

pushed past their own resilient limits

a lone car spinning in the dead of night

Reaching for the Stars

along a seemingly endless, precarious mountain pass

not even fireflies can compete with

its blaring headlights

            stabbing the thickening fog

passing a hit deer along the road side

her frantic heart still beating

and this monster of glass and metal

abandons the outskirts of demi-light nowhere

            heading northbound into the

nameless township of

                        skyscraper somewhere

leaving nothing behind

anymore remarkable

            than the swirling dust it stirred

or the stones it kicked off to the wayside

between the white dividing lines

segregating a two-lane highway

trees that canopied the winding bends

sway not by wind

            but engine fuel spilling

            its toxic lung

across the gasping leaves

sharp eyes of a startled raccoon

narrowly missed

by the roar of hungry rubber


            the distance of asphalt chips

a careless climb to the top

that will matter to nothing

not even to the open, empty space

that existed fine without its



an owl looks on

imprinting his unrest

upon the frosty air

            with his sad, disenchanted hoot

the song of squealing brakes

barely dodging a homeless dog

terrified beyond

            the growls of its own

                                    starving belly

the following curse

from grumbling whiskey lips

that even embarrassed

                        the wind


            the stories

            that will never be told

and refused to be written ~ ~

when even the skies serenade

above our weepless


and we wonder,

            how we humans pause and wonder,

why even stars

            drop out of love with us . . .

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

Far Gone, So Long


Gems of another nature

spill me new diamonds

shine with the masses

from glows of darkness

peeping through crevices

outward look of beetles

seepage through rotten lichen

finding their kindling miracles

songs of the wood

far gone, so long


What mightier than the wield

words like a sword

slice through thickets of air

underlying holocaust

yet to taste vengeance

blood stream of curses

fly the backs of broken wind

crippled echoes sing a pinpoint

slash screams without a throat

far gone, so long


love knows a miracle of death

pieces of heart we give away

bonding strips the Soul away

exposes shadows hidden deep

even if lips kiss without dare

to gain at passion, one is lost

and to each other ~ what be

the cost, the price we give

or expected to pay

just another way we die every day

far gone, so long


~ ~

© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf

Evanescent Chord

Evanescent Chord

weeps tears distilled

in a shooting star

shadowing all that we

never were;

but reflecting the

dancing brilliance now ~

            that we are

Evanescent Chord

strums ghosts from gloomy mists ~

rides feathers

of timeless wind,

sorrow, though ever

briefly, sputters upon

broken, useless wing ~

hear it sing!

though a whimper, at first,

it becomes the voice of song

once living, hidden inside

Evanescent Chord

strums ghosts from gloomy mists ~

emerges from

the purest of sound: silence…

© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf


Posted: October 28, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,



Smile upon this ancient River ~

its cool waters have felt

your sinew writhe;

twisted from shadowed-angles

of shared and molded ache.

In dreams, it cradles trembling blood.

Forever it has wept at your flowing side.


Your tongue has crossed many

severed Moons; tasted parched

wastelands left to linger

from tumbled regret ~

how you pierced the edges of

screaming thirst, content

only by what was mirrored

in its own discharged reflect.


Do you tire from mastering feats

of endless fear or infinite despair

when all that’s revealed in the end

is its minuscule singular memory

matching none other than my

mortal own ablaze in

unheroic air?


Plant feet deep into this path!

We have traveled identical

forks in sweeping dust;

listened to echoes warning us

that as friends, we cannot touch ~

yet as inseparable Soul Mates,

so shall our words timelessly

intermingle in some distant

beyond, gently caressed.


Love we have not known nor felt

its vibrant sting for any other ~

it doesn’t seem fair

until we stop in lonely pause long

enough to realize how truly blessed

and gifted we are!


Kneel before the unyielding wind

that bows not to invisible definition;

feel how we are at once defined

by another’s forgotten hunger ~

broken entities that miraculously mend

because both were swept beneath

the other’s fading storm within.


Embrace God-giving Light

it is, after all, what gave all Darkness hope

and where radiance first became its

own forgiving yet terrible abyss ~

why us, why us, we wonder still with

swollen grief,  shattered illusions

peeking through the shy mist:



Do we dare now to question

the mighty Heavens

or the burning Hells

that contain the wisdom

of all our fractures?







~ ~ ~

© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf



I feel this nameless dread

in the neon after-glow

tantrum trail of perseverance

like a side-line prism

refusing inertia

in the myriad gleam from

melting snow-light.

What a cost to late Summer

caught unaware

her wardrobe dressed in

lingering fuchsia and golds

resisting the corduroy

drape of heavy cold.

In the ravine’s wide

breath of day

what will you do

with the soft breakage

of the world

as an ancient tree

goes sadly limp

swans float

across an inky

toxic pond.

Now hear the grinding

the constant stamping

of twisted vine

and mutilated root

from the underbelly of

hungry earth

her bowels too wounded

to even give up

what’s left of

stunned worms.

Fear cataracted in a wild

stallion’s darting eyes

sensing your every

unspoken hatred

each and every

swing at mad air

assuaged only

by temporary


from sunken


Are modern minds so


like an infant ripped

too soon from

its shocked womb

that even hearts

have bled out

kindness with

numb tendrils?

Ringlets of tears

needled into

a vacuum of pity

torn from neglected

edges down

the slope of extinction

riding high an horizon

sucked dry and

devoid of



There’s an arctic hare deceived

into thinking the fox

is not as cunning as told

until it finds itself

squeezed between

the meaningful fangs

death swift and sweet.

Mahogany seeks the

austere silhouette

of birch, aspen

in their regal prime

grasping that its

one shade shorter

from acceptance

and now weeps

in vibrant disarray.

Where does one draw

the invisible line

between placidity

and pain

thirst or



Does oblivion live incognito

reliving stolen memories

from depleted dreams?

Tongue of meandering

streams carve their vision

through the mountain’s



monotony buried

in safe folds

of purple sage

and unforgiving stone.

Nature’s show plays

out despite our

tepid audience

yet its performance

revels more when

admiration sets in

deeper and begs

its pristine bow.

I taste the nectar

left behind by

reckless bees

from the prey of amassing

clouds raging hungrily

for desert dust to drink

and appreciate this

mighty gift of storm.

The way of the wild

wants merely to tame

the vigilance of

unreceptive rigidity

to break pieces

unwilling to bend

with yielding compatibility.

How is it lichen can thrive

beside a rose

not feel the need

for competition

Alas! not be overwhelmed that

beauty lies haunted

behind the swollen eyes

of the fickle beholder?

Does it not seek

it’s own


In the mouth of space

are we not all

swallowed by some

cosmic script

adhered to yet

for now still unwritten

staring at us

blind with loneliness

but confidant in our face?

How it dares mortality

relinquishment of

burning, insatiable

desire for each eternal

soul to be erased.

In the ravine’s wide

breath of day

in and out of

indigo blue

the last, great gray heron

with the soft breakage

of the world

soars through its tortured sky

cutting the wind like

a beautiful


~ ~

© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf


Posted: October 28, 2011 in Uncategorized
~ ~ ~
“I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out
    in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom
    of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.” ~ Jack London
~ ~ ~


So the wind told me
Some wings never make it
Past the laughing dirt
Yet never give up kissing sky

Cactus-bearing landscapes
Miles of blades that shave the wind
Underfoot of purple sage in mournful bend
Never bloomed this year

Is ugliness not its own splendor
Beauty more hideous than
We’d ever confess
And are our intentions
         Loathsome, sinister
                   For reflection of either
Being more or less?

Great heart of arrogant winter
The white hare has lost her footing
Fallen into the mouth of
A hungry fox
Her babies lie frozen in an orphaned den
How is your condescendence now?

The wind reminded me
We are feathers
And never know where
We might fall

And we’ll never know if we’re
The one who seizes
or the one who lets go….

We end up invisible
                             All the same.

~ ~
© Copyright 2011 ♥Susan Joyner-Stumpf