Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Poem: economies crumble

economies crumble
governments topple
wars break out
pompous politicians
reveal their
foolishness
but in the dark of night
the cat at my feet
enjoys his bath

photo &  poem 24 June 2016






Poem: Poetry of Night

the poetry of night calls, unbidden
disappears before dawn;
the usual
disappointments
only one meets

expectation
yet only after
relinquishment
of desire

Photo & Poem (c) 7.5.2016


Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Poem: In My Hand

In My Hand
In my hand, new life
What new life?
It’s death
Only by dying do we live.
Dying to hate
Dying to fear
Dying to violence
In my hand, death
What death?
It’s life
This beating heart
Breaking with the
Tears of the world
Awake, my dying soul
Awake to love
Awake to peace
Awake to hope
In my hand,
New Life!

© 17 June 2016 by Suzy Jacobson Cherry

Friday, May 27, 2016

Haiku: Windchimes

Morning's gentle breeze
Plays hopeful songs for the day
Awakens Spirit

Haiku & Photo (c) 27 May 2016



Friday, May 20, 2016

Poem: False Love



I do not understand
This love affair with death
When young, we kiss the snake,
Initiatory
Survivors come away
Muscles strong from the struggle
Some elude the coils altogether
Some grasp the tail, whipped
Against hard ground until
One day, eyes open
They find themselves
Thrown onto desert sands, death
Slipped away, leaving
A slender trail behind
Others, caught in her coils
Succumb while young, lost souls
No chance at Life

The trail she leaves is a reminder
Of her kiss; intrigued
Some turn back, following ethereal
Memory, they seek her embrace
Before their time
They find her wonderful, in guises
Both beautiful and terrible
They cannot turn away

Older now, I see her ploy
To lure us away before our time,
Deny our right to Glorious Life
I do not understand
This love affair with death,
For she is not real, this impostor
Begging garlands placed before her,
Gifts of lives gathered from the
Blossoms of their souls

True Death looks upon us from afar
Lovingly awaiting our embrace
She knows Her day
She wants us whole, snakebites
Healed by time and Love for one another
Our souls decked out in Happiness and
The trail to the false one’s lair
A memory best forgotten


© 20 May 2016

The Last of Thirty 2016 National Poetry Month Final Works

I lost track of National Poetry Month, and didn't get the final few poems posted to this site. I'll post the last few in one post, so if you were following, you can catch up all at once. Here goes: 

Twenty Seven of Thirty, Hiaku: One Cute Puppy

Her Highness sits proud
Knowing treats will soon abound
That's one cute puppy


Poem & Photo (c) 4.27.16




Twenty Eight of Thirty, Poem: Friendship

Speaking of food
Or were we speaking of friendship
The breaking of bread
the ineffable moment
In liminal places, connection
Ingesting the intangible
Flavor of Spirit
Like tangerine in summer

Photo & Poem 4.28.16




Twenty Nine of Thirty, Poem: Mother's Hearts

Mothers Hearts
Mother's hearts break easily, for
Children, thoughtless, plan their lives
Impetuously, as if they burst forth from
Petri dish, no tender care or early
Morning soothing, rubbing bubbly
Tummies or gentle kisses upon scraped
Knees and tender adolescent hearts
Somewhere along the line, no matter how
Much mother has loved and worked
And given, no matter how many late
Nights away in pursuit of dinners
Tomorrow better than those she could
Afford today, child seems to yearn for
Someone else's life, someone else's
Mother, someone who can magically
Afford more than she will ever have in
Spite of her hours of sleep lost, her hours
Of worry when they slept, sick and
Feverish. Mothers love, most mothers
Love without knowing this destiny of
Abandonment, of looking up one day
From all their work, from all their hopes,
From all their dreams, and finding
Themselves weary, aging, empty
Without those for whom they worked
So hard, and never knowing why


(c) 4.29.16

Thirty of Thirty, Poem: Sunset

As the sun sinks into the western sea
yesterday's dreams scatter like shells
on the sandy beach, handfuls of sand dollars
well worn sea-glass tumbled in relentless waves
what have we done but build castles on shifting sands
Hoping the waves would somehow let us be
Praying for a miraculous smile
from the frigid face of that cold, hard moon

Photo & Poem (c) 4.20.16