Neil Gaiman says:

Neil Gaiman says:
pic by Allan Amato

Wednesday, October 07, 2015

The Travellers

Since Deviantart makes it tough to view 'mature' themed work unless you sign up, I'm putting my #inktober for today here. Enjoy!

The Succubus and the Rakshasa, co-conspirators and dimensional travellers, causing evil wherever they go! (c) 2015 Suzanne Marsden


Thursday, October 01, 2015

Parade Black

It's been a long time since I've written poetry, and even longer than I can remember that I've stood in front of people and read what I'd written.

I'm fortunate to be a part of an amazing group of writers and poets who accept and don't judge, encourage and dissect (without leaving a corpse behind!)

I'm grateful to the wonderfully talented Bobby Salvin, award-winning poet, author and artist for inviting me to join this year's writing group. Without this group of interested and cool people, it's unlikely 'Parade Black' would've been dislodged from my brain, while I was tightening my laces last week. Thank you!

Parade Black

The shoes lasted longer than the job.
The interview outfit still hangs unworn-
The good clothes carefully saved for later.

The trappings and plumage you present
Like the good silver and the China plates
Only dusted off for Easter
And awkward internet dates.

The hesitant smile
The captured bird
Fluttering madly in its bony cage

The steady gaze
The confident gait
The sway of self
And firm handshake.

Trotted out twice a year to caper and perform
Then carefully hung back on its hook
Because that is not your norm.

The rictus and unblinking eyes,
Which punch-clock cruelly victimized
The creative heart, the fairy wing
Crushed by a nametag on a string.

     The crawling commute
     The daily pressure
     To conform, fit in, be timely and grin,
          Grin,
               GRIN—

No matter the strain and hopeless pain
Of a desperate creature circling the drain,
The foundering horse in unceasing rain
For one who dared go against the grain.

The shoes lasted longer than the job.
True, they’re not new,
     The leather’s cracked,
          The sole’s worn through,
But they fit more comfortably
Than proper jobs do.

And the interview pants, worn sparingly
At gatherings with friends and family,
Not for those you’d hoped to impress
Are fitting in a little better
As you are
     Loosed of unwelcome fetters.


Suzanne A. Marsden
© September 28th, 2015