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. Susan Joyner-Stumpf 2014 © Copyright Reserved (¸¸.➷•*¨)¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) About the author: My name is Susan Joyner-Stumpf. I have been writing since the age of eight. It started off as an escape mechanism for me, as I was suffering from Childhood abuse. After a while, and after winning every Creative Writing Contest I entered at such an early age, I began to have a passion for writing and thus have never stopped. I am considered a Dark Poet. Though I also write both Fiction and Non-Fiction Short Stories, Novellas (shorter than novels, longer than short stories) and songs, I am most focused as a Poet. My poems are an immediate rush of expression, an inner need to connect and to begin myself, and end the constant longing. It is a funnel through which all things eventually flow outwards, the essence that is me thrown to the masses. I write because I am this thing that must create, or so shall I be destroyed. I blow into this world my latest gesture, a kiss of meter and rhyme and metaphor, expecting nothing in return. Perhaps an echo, a sigh. What would be nice is someone to turn around and say, I needed every bit of that. My life would thus be complete. Again, I have been writing since the age of eight, over 40 years. It’s been a life-long journey of pleasure and pain into that great Unknown. But it’s enough. I’m one with it. I can only hope I’ve helped you find oneness too in this world of bits and pieces. ~ Susan Joyner-Stumpf, 8/2014 youtube/watch?v=9nRIVE5xl6A
Posted on: Tue, 28 Oct 2014 06:47:31 +0000
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