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Poem

Evergreen flavored mantras
did nothing to purge bitter bile from my lips
nor slake the smoldering thirst for a Rosary remedy.
Tick-tock petals unfurled one by one
as your poppy shed its last sepal 
releasing a scarlet sigh across sunset skies
whilst I placed a tender kiss upon your twilight. 

If but for your gossamer bloom in persimmon perfection,
I would not hunger for your ambrosial whispers
nor rue the earthly drought of undying nectar.
I stray, a waif lost with my armful of loss,
blind behind the tear-rusted folds 
of a weeping veil’s eclipse.
My psyche a pauper 
rich in the poverty of penniless promises,
empty as echoes in hollow holes
ringing with wringing reverberations.

In the grasp of atheist fingers I clasp Holy beads
tilling cries and whys.
Every tear a sorrow sown in brambles,
whose sloe fails to ripen sweet redemption
in the fertile sham and barren sand of my humanity;
crushed by the tusk of this damnable dusk.



Susan Ashley
April 13, 2020


~ First Place ~
February 5, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney


~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 9
Sponsor: Mark Toney


~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Your Best Poem Ever
Sponsor: John Hamilton


~ Seventh Place ~
Premiere Contest: Crushed
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco


~ First Place ~
Standard Contest: Your Best Free Verse 2020
Sponsor: John Hamilton

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