Children's Writer & Sometimes Poet
a stream of consciousness connects trouble to trouble to trouble gun violence domestic violence no solutions nonsense health declining, covid rising civil unrest pivots like a windsock Ukraine. Oh, Ukraine. my heart weeps my anger boils but my hands feel confined in this spectator's straight jacket Take a breath, oh my soul Sprinkle random acts of kindness Into my space in this world Let them catch a zephyr Let them spread like dandelion seeds (c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

This bossy story pricks and pesters. It's such a brat. Doesn't care I'm uncertain. Inspiration pokes and prods 'til I pay it some attention, like my pup with her ball incessant 'til I play with her What if I ignore it? Ha! The muse will ruin my dreams to wake me, to make me write (c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

There's a pair of older hands Clacking away on my keyboard Crinkles and creases, mercilessly dry Where did their prowess go? Thicker now, age spots on the horizon Beyond the power they once yielded They've realized their true strength Being lent to another in love, regardless of like ©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

Beneath my desk Content to rest at my feet My faithful pup Inspires the writer in me ©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved

It sounds like I am on hold. Or the ring of a dying phone. The cell in my hand is silent. My laptop before me behaves. Beyond the window a blue bird, a new-to-me type, plays statue in the budding young maple. It hops and warbles a song unfamiliar. Perhaps it's eaten a robotic worm. Maybe I'm swallowed by technology. It's been too long since spring last. Time to fine tune these ears of mine. ©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
Poetry
Elevates language
Careless poets intimidate,
Torturing meaning beyond comprehension
(c) 2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved