Posted by Susana Roque on Tuesday, November 28, 2017,
Posted by Susana Roque on Thursday, October 20, 2016,
Simba, the tabby cat, on my couch
sometimes you sat under the tree in front of my window, looking in
reaching out with your tail curled around you
protecting and observing me
sometimes I was art journaling
other times I wa probably planning what I would do the next day
nothing significant, it seemed
Yes, you came in a couple of times
looking all around as though you wanted to belong here
After a couple of hours, you pointed with your eyes at the door
for me to let you out
Posted by Susana Roque on Friday, May 29, 2015,
not just a rock
or a period on the earth
rather, a possibility and beginning
to be unearthed, excavated and held
as it spins with everything else
into the determined and unperceived throbbing
of the script of a flock of particles into form
meeting in one gaze
as our hearts' and God's meet
in His love of creation
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Posted by Susana Roque on Monday, April 27, 2015,
This poem is about the death of my tabby cat friend Simba.
I was unable to save him from the strong coyotes outside.
Love is small spurts
like a sprinkler
or a small firework
chubby, with one fang, a crooked tail and no nails
from no special caste you came, grey and white
jumping so freely
like a small dolphin coming to kiss my hand
with a splash
a small push on my hand
with a sound of innocence that had no boundaries of definition
an unobstructed voice piercing through like a ray of light
t...
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Posted by Susana Roque on Sunday, August 3, 2014,
Posted by Susana Roque on Friday, May 2, 2014,
I am hoping to find a front row view
as the formations of dirt
and the particles in the air
settle in their timely yet unpredictable matter
into a form
with the self-determined conviction of
all that is new
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Posted by Susana Roque on Wednesday, January 29, 2014,
I would like to add short poems and pieces of writing here with my pictures and sketches. Hopefully, you will like them. These ideas are taken from my sketchbook.
The pillow book is a movie where someone wrote about 4 lines of poem everyday to illustrate her life . I may have pieces of poetry here like this since I enjoy writing things about my day.
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Posted by Susana Roque on Wednesday, January 29, 2014,
engraved on the earth where different marks,
like symbols
as if they were mneumonic devices,
tapping into these parts of the forests,
like opening different stories,
I remembered the fresh air
and the brave hikes
and conversations
concaved in to different parts of the earth
as if these places still had our imprints
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