SUSAN JOYNER-STUMPF

SUSAN

JOYNER-STUMPF

DESTINY’S HUE

(stream-of-consciousness journey of the Soul’s Destiny)

What of this thought!  My tears that sweep impossible stars and sing such eulogic songs, hymns of bliss and sorrow’s frozen kiss; the kind Angels, in ethereal state, whisper when they weep for the remorse of Mankind.  Etched in the fiery grandeur of refined symmetry, poetry oozes from mortal façades.  The most fluidity of pores, fluxive amber streams of metaphoric gems and cosmic glitter softened from our inner cores.  Reaching, reaching! But reflective pause gives rise, reminding me painfully that there are such things as intangible dreams.  They float like musical orbs inside the iris of one’s wondering eyes, opening to portals once hidden from a spirit hungry of such unraveling sage.  Now an energy source bonding with the white-wash of receptive bones; integral . . . esoteric musings of reverie and silent, symbolic dance like light beams signaling for repose.  The page waits!  A joy is manifested in the womb of crimson consciousness, a cerebral surprise of Soul-lit revelation from its state of embryonic suspension.  A passion, a pain, is born!

From this mesh of destiny’s hue on the tattoo of our gleaned Soul, so is our life written in everlasting ink from grace divine and thus cosmetically ingrained in Heaven’s sacred memory of me, of YOU.

Copyright ©Susan Joyner-Stumpf®

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DARWIN’S KISS

There are portals in my eyes

Can you enter?

First you must align your resonance

Remember Helios

Thunder swallowed in the sublime abyss

Your mortal cry a blip in a deaf star’s ear

You are fluttering between bone and hieroglyphics

When Saturn’s Rings were babies

Now love is not just around you

It emanates from inside you, peering out

With the infant grasp of virgin touch

As though left imploded from Darwin’s kiss

Touching quasi-darkness-people who

Have lost their empyrean eyes

It’s now your divinity to save them

To heal the wounded child, within

Listen to its abysmal cries

Be a mortar in the crumbling brick, that

Edifice once sadder than frozen space

Unlock Geometry from its spacial residence

Release those who clung to your robes

For it is they who forgot to love your Soul

Walk with me now this celestial road

Paved with memories you don’t yet have

Wings in your pocket have grown dusty and cold

Don’t look back at youth’s frivolous atmosphere

It is a fire you can’t afford

Feel the shift on the cusp of Thor’s wind:

We are infinity beginning all over again!

Copyright ©Susan Joyner-Stumpf®

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ICARUS KNEW YOU HAD WINGS

Between the worlds we alter

I step gently between the footfalls

Of your insolubleness

Assure the alignment is aureole

Tangent collision of our lattice

Not linear degree of its quintessential daydream

Wake up sleepy star

Eternity waits for your chiseled smile

You are remembered in God’s eye

As your own cosmic ether

Lay down the old skin

You will not miss your bones

A new flight takes hold, in Zen

You are as ancient as stones

Written in poems before the thought

Even Icarus knew you had wings

Against the cells’ resistance

Metamorphous settles gemstone resolve

Cataclysmic apertures coincide

Refuse the prize of a veiled fever

Sorrow regrets its burning placenta

No room to soothe a jealous fury

Lick the flames of fire’s demise

No Hades now can steal your rapture

Rejuvenate destiny’s Olympian desire

Inside the world’s pooled harbor

It is all unholiness that we shatter.

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In Greek mythology, Icarus (the Latin spelling, conventionally adopted in English; Ancient Greek: Ἴκαρος, Íkaros, Etruscan: Vikare[1]) is the son of the master craftsman Daedalus. Often depicted in art, Icarus and his father attempt to escape from Crete by means of wings that his father constructed from feathers and wax. Icarus' father warns him first of complacency and then of hubris, asking that he fly neither too low nor too high, because the sea's dampness would clog or the sun's heat would melt his wings. Icarus ignored instructions not to fly too close to the sun, and the melting wax caused him to fall into the sea where he drowned. This tragic theme of failed ambition contains similarities to that of Phaëthon.

Copyright ©

SUSAN JOYNER-STUMPF®