Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
3,281 FOLLOWERS
Dirt Road Dreams, poems, photos, photography, southern poet, poet, author, A poetry blog of real life, photographer. "I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1w ago
Within me there is a well both empty and overflowing.
There is dust, summer rain, the sound of my voice,
and the echo of others.
I often fear it isn’t poetry, only words held until
I choose to dip my pen into troubled water.
There is no way to escape breath if I choose to live.
Every poem I write resuscitates hope the journal in me
will find the soul who needs the breadcrumbs I leave for them.
Rarely can I write in rhyme because I have no talent
to not make it sound pitiful or childish.
For me it is torture, a duty I’m not qualified to perform.
Poetry is my therapy, im ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1M ago
It’s not just a feather
but a wing note
begging to be translated
with eyes of ink that sees
poetry before it’s written.
It’s not just a thing left
to be bruised by a footprint
but a sign healing defies gravity.
It’s not just a reminder
of how much was lost
but the voice of wind
encouraging the spirit
melancholy is a season not a sentence.
It’s not just a plume
but hope that waits patiently
for you to remember
you already know how to fly.
©Susie Clevenger 2024
What's Going On - Just a Cup of Tea
  ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
4M ago
I dance with the dead,
revel in the fallen splashes
of color as they haunt the wind.
Oak leaves that summer stained blue sky
with paint brush leaves of green now
fall in cascades of orange and red.
Limbs stripped to their wooded bones
speak of winter coming to frost night
with sparkled shivers of dreams roaming indigo.
Caught in swirls of leaf flames I feel
my childhood open its door of wonder
to memories of the oak cradling my secrets.
Standing on sturdy roots I let them feed my spirit
the power of resiliency to grow even in a world
that seeks to mold me ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
5M ago
My tabernacle is the woods
beyond the glass of my window.
It is there survival speaks to me, where hope grows the smallest green leaf on drought’s ravaged limb.
As I venture outside the glass, I am embraced by wind’s sermon of light that bears none of the restraints of man’s definition of God.
It is among the swaying hymns my heart is nurtured, my soul communes with joy, and my spirit finds the strength to persevere.
Susie Clevenger 2023 ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1y ago
Say Something – Written by
Ian Axel and Chad King
Nothing hurts more than
a question hung on a frayed
thread of silence.
No would have been a cleaner cut
than the haunting ghost of indifference.
If you don’t love me, at least give
me the wound of saying it.
©Susie Clevenger 2023
  ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1y ago
I’ll Stand by You –– Written by Chrissie Hynde
I’ll be here when there are endings,
when your heart spins out of control,
or night lingers too far into sunrise.
Scream into my shoulder, cry in my arms.
When steps feel like a marathon, I’ll
tie your shoelaces, hold your arm
so you won’t fall.
You’ve been there when I broke,
held me together until I could
figure out how to be whole.
It’s my turn to help you carry
what you can’t bear alone.
© Susie Clevenger ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1y ago
"I seated ugliness on my knee, and almost
immediately grew tired of it."
- Salvador Dali.
Shades of Night Descending, 1931 by Salvador Dali
In the desert of obscure
I plant myself as a rock.
No matter how weathered
or man carved by knife
I remain the enigma
the devil argues with.
The rainfall of shadows
has tried to drown me,
flood me with dubiety
but I remain morning
in midnight’s bath.
I was formed beneath a bully’s boot
pressed on my chest, defiant marble risen
from the rotted breath of abuse.
©Susie Clevenger 2023 ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1y ago
“Blame it or praise it, there is no denying the wild horse in us.”
― Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
The Mustangs of Las Colinas –– Robert Glen
In me is a wilderness, a voice,
a path where nothing restrains,
demands explanation.
I was born with nature’s psalms
written on each heartbeat,
wild mustang words full of sky,
wings, and oak leaves encouraging me
to embrace my freedom.
Sitting still I’m moving; in silence I speak.
I am lightening and thunder, bright fuchsia
and gray dust shadow.
I am so many things and so much more to become.
There are uncharted horizons within ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1y ago
The Starry Night –– Vincent Van Gogh
“I often think that the night is more alive and more
richly colored than the day.” –Vincent Van Gogh
May the flowers that dance in the sun
feel the praise of starlight on their petals.
If not for moon pools and glitter sky,
bud and blossom would not hear
the nightingale’s heart song.
It’s in the sapphire ancient voices
whisper their stories on the wind,
the owl keeps watch, feathered hands
on the time clock of shadows.
In the dream state of roses velvet
petals forget about their thorns
as their scent cradles star candles
until nigh ..read more
Confessions Of A Laundry Goddess
1y ago
“Would that it were so simple.”
— Hail, Caesar! (2016)
Why can’t truth be simple,
not twisted on the tongue
to storm it with conspiracy.
What I wish to believe
doesn’t mean it’s true.
In this day of gaslight,
buzz words, and deflection
I must consider who profits
from discord…Who dances
on disunion.
If I only play follow the leader,
I can’t complain if I go over the cliff.
©Susie Clevenger 2023 ..read more