Welcome to my Poet Lady Chat Room. I would like to invite you to click on the chat box and type in a question, a suggestion, submit a poem, in other words – “chat with me.” I may, if you submit a poem, decide to feature it in my Poem of the Week section or, we may simply exchange ideas and suggestions about your poem.
This is a place to “talk” poetry with someone who has loved it all her life. I have a true passion for the possibilities of poetry and would love to hear your thoughts and/or read your poem. I will be happy to offer my reaction to your work and, based on over 40 years of teaching poetry, organizing, and conducting poetry workshops, working as a book review editor for an international poetry magazine, authoring five books of poetry and two textbooks on teaching poetry, send along my thoughts on ways to make your poem stronger and more impactful.
If you’re on my site, you have a connection to poetry. Feel free to connect with me – right here -right now, by typing your message into the “chat box” and clicking send. I’m waiting…
Your friend in poetry, Susan
FEATURED POEM
Hello!
Here is my poem "Our Last Meeting"; sending it for consideration for the featured poem of the week.
OUR LAST MEETING
Love was not a great thing for me,
Loving you was not a choice,
It didn’t commence,
It didn’t proceed,
It didn’t happen,
It wasn’t a love story,
It wasn’t him or her,
It wasn’t them,
Wasn’t that place,
Wasn’t that day, that hour,
Could be me, my body, my heart, or could not be this too.
Intimacies, rather making love,
Making a day, a night,
Needed no desires, no moans, no sighs, no breaths, and no movements.
Like.., just like my amoebic drawings of childhood.
They all did that, I also wanted to,
Or maybe I did not.
A robe, a bucket, a hair, a bag, a grain of sand, some sea shells,
All blue-white-pink-grey-orange-any colour all,
A thoughtless and emotional looking “really really nice”
But last time, I thought of tearing you off.
Gripping you head with my feet and, tearing off the flaps,
I did, as I always did, I manhandled with care (myself),
Tore everything off; seeing how human blood looks, how it runs;
I don’t have a love story here for YOU.
Love isn’t a great thing, for nobody does it.
-Shelley