Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Under the Glassy Pane

The narrative of crooked hands coiled in a skein of lolled limb and sheets--
When torridly burned from skidding the shroud of a fleshy hull shaved from its pith,
Can only gesticulate a bitter thieving moan

A pale overlay laced in powdered-blue veins bending a foreshortened dot,
"Swindler of shivering susurrations, owner of hasty palms,"
Dripping sentiments of silence, "You cherished regret!"
Scrawled from the womb of hollow compromise
Of nails that scratch shallow erubescent lines of beveled fortune

And still the twine limps unaffected or moved
Covering the foundation and bloody chest in mesh
But under the glassy pane, a soft gaze still sings

Susie E.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Dawn Could be the Most Beautiful Ending

In the tiniest of gesture lies the shallowest acceptance
Though I've paced the squiggly line drawn around me
From all obtuse and blank angles
somehow, the guilt stirring for a game I've fairly played churns
Burdening my ears shut with a pale orange buzz
While keeping the door ever-so slightly cracked

Never be my shaping
I beg you, be your own contour with pastels for which only those eyes can dream
Go through it!
I refuse to lower the horizon on woven sails
sewn with the need for an ocean large enough for unconditional gusts
This, I understand…as naively I am being portrayed

I wanted to be gentler!
I am only following the script for which was written,
passing the time locking myself out…
Even so, I am not hollow

Susie E.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Untamed Tethering

To feel a firm saturating warmth, confident and steady
Entangling my hair into a mirage of knuckly sheaths of comfort and scruff
Gently tethered in velvet and smooth azure
Tiptoeing the outskirts of self-visceral borders
A niche without wrists choked underneath ticks or chimes
Only loosely taking up space among books, broken-in pillowcases, and hand stitched quilts

The bright feeling of home—
when the plow's upheaval of dust rendered recrudescent blossom and blush
An estival reminiscence and wild piquant lingering of
gummed fingerprints inked sweetly in blood drops, purple sap, and pulp—
Tis' the faint scent of an innate niave's dwelling

Though neither-one a yellowish owning or belonging nor unfitting endearings
But perhaps an embracing intermission, a restful unwinding
Fore I shall never be bound to willfully peer out from behind iron shafts or stone

See, while wings and beaks have need for the nutrition of seed,
will consequently rise up and expand itself eventually
Albeit, I may find myself nesting in gusty willows alone...but weeping, no!
Instead, you'll find me making love to lusty experiences and philosophy,

Yet, to have cherished tresses encouraged and combed—for unclasped hands I would return

-Susie E.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Two Seeking

It is not my history repeating but my hands remembering
A walnut shell with a fibrous casing able to crumble into saw dust
For those lips to lick a sweet lingering
Though I refuse that textured metal-crusher to crack and loosen

I did this, fallen from my own pocket out beneath the blood red pavement
Though naked and bare, you do not see me nor could you know of it
Tis’ to simple to grasp, though free as feathers on fleshy dynamic structures
I should step back from your ungrateful imagination
Yet, I still desire those lines to wrap around my thighs and waist

Yes, I will always contradict your reality,
Deal with it!

-Susie E.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

To Thy Own-self Be True

Today I read a poem from a another blogger on his poetry site, Mangled Verse entitled, "I am/Not." It reminded me of a recent post that I published on my myspace that I neglected to repost here, on my blogspot that I now presume relevant:

I am learning that accepting someone completely does not equate their complete acceptance of you. As a matter of fact, sometimes it just simply means that their reality doesn't match yours. Sacrificing oneself is always too much for anyone to ask. When the relationships in your life prove to come to these crossroads, I think it is important for one to remember and practice simply allowing the other persons to be themselves without writing labels. In my personal opinion, this is real unconditional love. And unfortunately, fully accepting that person sometimes means to also let them go. Indeed, I have always struggled with this concept. But, in the end, we all are imperfectly beautiful people and we all need to be encouraged and to encourage to accept ourselves and to accept someone else for not being fully accepting of us. It's one of those major grey areas of life. It doesn't mean anyone is bad OR good. Contently, I am as large as my limitations and perspective, just as you are bound to your limitations and perspectives. What will be will be. I wish nothing but the best for all the people I love, here with me now, or not. Be true to yourself. Trust in this and everything else will follow.

What do you believe it means to be true to yourself? I am quite interested in hearing what your life lessons have taught you.

Is a Memory

In my hand, hers held
We pushed against the air as her arm raised
Above my head and I spun
My hands gripped my knees and hers around her waist while bending back
Laughing—these are the nights to twirl under the moon
When I awoke this afternoon, I smiled
Now, what is a memory, us girls

Susie E.

Monday, July 7, 2008


Recently, I bought a new fancy digital SLR camera pieced together with all those tiny little buttons that do all those things I have little clue. Well, I'm starting to figure it out... While I am not gay (smooches to all my beautiful gay friends) , I am becoming fascinated with the woman body, real women bodies...freckles, curves, lips, eyes (oh yes the eyes are great), or bone structuring...especially in awkward contortions. Not only is it a great work out but it is a good lesson in how to work with shadow/light.

Since no one seems to be willing to sit for me, I've been sitting for myself. This process alone has inspired a new fondness of self-love with my own body--a new kind of comfortability. This new found acceptance has inspired my brain to contemplate on people's, including me, self-loath and abhorring emotions toward ourselves. Our bodies truly do so much for us! Why would any of us want to pick at all its little "imperfections"? I've participated in plenty of ridicule and cried many tears over my own body's flaws. However, now that I am opening myself up to being vulnerable (which required/requires an enormous effort), I am discovering just how beautiful my body can manipulate its environment and I personally find this quite fascinating. There is something miraculous, indeed, when you see a set of photos of yourself and really feel, well, beautiful. The little freckle on my right mandible--right under and in front of my ear suddenly becomes beautiful. A "blemish" I once thought I wanted removed. Why take the parts of yourself that make you uniquely you.

Exciting still, the other night I was able to take pictures of a friend who has always been shy and inhibited in front of my camera...even fully clothed! However, this night I was able to sit up an environment in which she let loose and WOW! I watched her smile at herself and get excited about her own face and body as she peered over the LCD screen! I know she has a long way to go but what a glorious unraveling to watch unfold. Those pictures will be up in a few days once I am able to load them, so I'll encourage you to look back. That is, once I get her permission to post her face on my rarely visited blog to the whole wide world! Muhahaha

Anyway, I happen to have approval for my own go ahead to post my photos. This is me playing with the camera by myself and a tripod (Ooo la la). Yes, I am naked and while this is a bit risque* even for myself, all nude parts have been cropped. In these, I am learning what angles I like, how light works in pictures, exposure, and how to setup (what I believe) to be interesting photo layouts (among other elements). If you have an opinion/suggestions, let me hear them. I am, by all means, a rookie. So, be gentle but honest =P Thanks for looking and reading about my experience.

Thanks to Jonathan for catching the misspelling*

-Susie E.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Collapse to Rise

I am not the one to contain water
But, for this night, I’m going to collapse myself
into the palm of my bed, knotted in my knees
beneath charcoal dust and lines
Only just a little, let the drips weep
But, when the oiled pavement and green metal fence
welcome the orange horizontal beams
On this dotted intersection, when my window rattles,
“You are meaningless…’ping’.”
In respect and wonder, I will make my way back,
Over this indention, out from under these sinking covers
Into these sandals, pearl anklet, and stethoscope
To be bound and humbled to peer up at a pink awning
Fore, there may be nothing more…I’m sure
Not lonely, but warmest home—to soon be but a particle for which light to refract,
And, for eyes to misinterpret as “God”
But tomorrow morning, I’ll simply step, one at a time—
Brightening my smile, my content, to be omni-unpowerful, yet bold and curved

--Susie E.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Whisky Tea

My perspective is sinking
Between the ice and glass of my whisky-tea
Chemically different but with similar transparency

My fingers dance around the rim
Humming a low squeak and selfish need
This sometimes’ grin, melting with those frozen squares
Technically, you could call them cubes or dares

That’s the thing about whisky and its vague amber color
It always just sits, raining a ring
It wants me to think, again and again about that sip and its cover-lid
Keeping that little rounded line tucked and hid
For purposes of a higher virtue, I just do not transcend

When everyone else knows what is best
I watch it swirl, evaporate, and finally descend
And the longer my mind drones, the more I recent
The decisions being made for which, I on myself, apparently can not depend

Call me pretty or just ask me please
A million times over, it doesn’t ease
Till’ the only thing afloat is my peace of mind
And something resembling a beverage made of pekoe leaves

Sitting my ass on the sidewalk asking for dimes
Does this make one worthy enough to appease?

Aim at Mirrors

Down, these blues, not my mood or mind
Highlights sweeping in
Iris in bloom, periwinkle with white trim
Stare right here, try and define
And when I close them…determine what I should dream

Slow tug and stretch of polyester and silk
Round and dimple, then…red mane swaying over peach fuzz and milk
Take it, make it, and dish your principle upon it
Constrain me into a terri-robe

Come back to this space, this time…you still looking right here?
I'm unpainted, undrawn, visibly covered in ink—for just one more from the million before
All that you feel, that disgust, is yourself dipping below
When the sun meets its perfect geographical location
On you, will you shine brighter or beg for the light to dim?

I'm gonna grab hold, the wind, this breeze, be the biggest twinkle
Lift my legs from this concrete, switch the sky on
Through the break in this board, I see the water rushing around bumpy ankles
Keep glaring up, protecting your pupils under wood
No consequence…no life
Tell me what I can and cannot do/be

Years as they have turn, I'm getting softer, thicker, lighter
Into the waves, legs are sinking,
get the hell out
Run for the door, "Turn it on, Turn it on!!"
I've worn the same shoes, over this rail—plunk, plunk
I am not your horizon, not even in your gaze
Not your permission, destiny, or design

I am this history overcame, a moment, right now—I
Spinning, swinging, pointing my toes, shifting my hips
Manipulating the air, gravity and grace met
Humming, honing, toning

If those crooked arrows want to launch,
let them point, tear, and maul—toward a drowning mirror

Susie E.


10 pale, half anxiously chewed
Half raw and dried, smell of raspberries
They have been trained to save a life
But fix this, no

I loosen them from hopeless endless endeavors
So I can feel the prominent beating hump
There in the crease of my breast
Where I pulse, unarmored and open

I refuse to hide my smile
Or sacrifice my peace of mind
Nor, shall I deem it worthy for you to do the same
Me, Myself, and I,
Take pleasure in today's breathtaking sunset

I feel, see, hear, have…
Each day, grateful
For everyone I have loved
For every tired hand I've held
For each exchange of bliss and sorrow
For every moment of ecstasy and disappointment
For every betrayal and loyalty
For every imperfection—for in those wrinkly lines
I have found, love for all
...for me

Susie E.