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Stories From the Edge of Blindness

In 2002, Retinitis Pigmentosa changed my life. This is my story of a slow approach to darkness.

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poems

Memorizing the Words

My contribution to the July Visual Verse Challenge is up.

This month’s image was one that sent me reeling into a place of memory and nostalgia.  If you want, you can check out my poem, “Memorizing the Words”, and the entire first batch of amazing poems for the month.

 

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Burning House

I am thrilled to have 3 of my poems in Burning House Press today!!!!! My huge thanks to June editor, James Pate! If you want, you can read them here.

 

Unwavering

I never wrote love poems, not about the good parts of love anyway, until I met my husband, Joe.  Perhaps I had never really been in love before him, or perhaps I didn’t know what real love was supposed to feel like and look like.  What I do know, is that my life and my heart have not been the same since I first met him, almost 10 years ago.

This month is his birthday month, my personal favorite month of the year because it is about celebrating him, so it is perfect that today my poem, “Unwavering” came out in Foxglove Journal.

Epic Summer Issue of Sheila – Na – Gig

I am thrilled to have 2 of my poems in the Epic Summer Issue of Sheila -Na – Gig.  My huge thanks go out to Editor Hayley Haugen!

This is a huge an amazing issue with so many wonderful poets and poems.  There are also a ton of submission opportunities at SNG that all poets should check out!!!!

Perfection has no Sound

My June contribution to Visual Verse is up!  If you would like to read it with the image, you can go here.  There are some incredible pieces already, including a beautiful poem from fellow writer, blogger and RPer ( technically Ushers Syndrome, which is RP with hearing loss), Carrie Ann Golden.

Perfection has no Sound

You are carved from wax,
youth preserved in a gilded shell,
voice torn from your throat.
Your face is a sculpted fantasy,
glamour painted into your eyes,
rage pinned to the roof of your mouth,
trapped behind shellacked lips.
Your image is puzzled together,
hand stitched bits of plastic
that stick to your ribs and
keep you motionless under hot lights.
You are re-created under the
precision of a steel blade,
your undesirable bits left like
scraps in a hazardous waste bucket.
You trade in your identity and buy
yourself expertly crafted slices of beauty,
searching for a place in the spotlight,
but you begin to melt and realize
perfection has no sound.

©Susan Richardson 2018

Images and Words

It is that time of the month – Ekphrastic Challenge time!!!

The images for Visual Verse and Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge are both up.

The lead poems from VV are wonderful.  Here is the first, from Julia Webb, to get you inspired. Remember, these VV poems are written in 1 hour or less.

Melt
by Julia Webb

Time she says is like an old tin box
you drag it down from the attic
but nothing in there makes sense.

You are sitting in a garden café
in the middle of a wood,
watching chickens in a makeshift run
scratching around in the dust.
The day is so hot you feel like a waxwork
that’s been left out in the sun,
like you are wearing someone else’s skin.
There’s a thunder fly floating in your tea
and a film of sweat on the rubbery cheddar
inside your ploughman’s sandwich.
Her lips keep moving but you’ve stopped
listening, you wonder what it would feel
like to be made entirely of cheese.

I Belonged to You

My contribution to the May Visual Verse challenge.

I Belonged to You

You called me a waif, admonishing me for running
the streets in bare feet, soles blackened by soot.
With tender hands and a smile that edged away
the undertow of frustration, you washed the blood
from my stubbed toes and bandaged the
wounds of a stalwart and reckless childhood.
Your rage burned out of control for the other kids,
but I was the child of your new skin, the heart
that learned its rhythm from the pulse of the sea.
I had his face, but I belonged to you.
It was you who taught me the comforts of sadness,
my tiny hands covered in the despair of your tears.
You strapped me to your chest and climbed
out of a life steeped in secrecy, into a decade of
feminist rallies, and learning how to roar,
but the weight of your sorrow had stained us both.
You hit me once, when I was six years old and I hit back.
We sat at the bottom of the steps together and cried.

Ekphrastic

Although I had resigned myself to walking away from Rattle for a while, as it has become clear that the editor isn’t crazy about my poetry, I can’t deny that the image for this month’s Ekphrastic Challenge is lovely and, I think, will be incredibly inspiring for a lot of people.  Check it out and see if you get inspired.  You have the month to write a poem in response.  Happy writing!!!!!

It’s Visual Verse Time

The image for May is up on Visual Verse, and ready to inspire.  1 hour, 1 piece of writing up to 500 words (doesn’t have to be poetry).  I just submitted mine.  Now, go write yours!!!!!!

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