Saturday, April 1, 2017



(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®


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®


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.

In Greek mythology, Icarus (the Latin spelling, conventionally adopted in English; Ancient Greek: καρος, 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 ©


  1. Amazing and soooo talented and did I mention beautiful poetry... ??? I am so proud of you!!!

  2. Author Susan Joyner-Stumpf, I too, like Deborah Brooks-Langford, endorse your poetic talent and artistic gift(s)!!! Your friend, colleague and fellow Pittsburgh Author Renee' Drummond-Brown (Renee's Poems with Wings are Words in Flight).

  3. Excellent poems author Susan Joyner-Stumpf!!! Just wonderful!!! Pittsburgh Author Renee' Drummond-Brown (Renee's Poems with Wings are Words in Flight).