Friday, April 17, 2015

let me love you

you light me
like the sun
burning eons
of bloodink and breath

like fireworks
across a velvet night

like Spring
like peaches in summertime
the sweet essence of
desire and passion

you light me up
like dynamite
like one million
detonated in my

my soul

in words
in thyme and
means nothing
between you and
for my body
is yours
my breath
belongs to your
my mouth is meant
to be placed

oh, ever so softly,
upon your own

my eyes
your words
my hands
the nape of your
winding downward
to your
lower back

my palms

come here, my love
let me wipe the sweat from your brow
ease your tired mind
place your head in my

and let me
love you

© Susan Marie

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

look how they sing

I recorded the birds, live, as they sang and mixed that with my spoken word


Look at the birds
how they sing for us

they take part
in this
most joyous union
a majestic embrace
of sky to earth
from mouth to lips
from hips to eyes

your eyes

oh, how they glitter
and gleam

like confetti
falling from the sky
caught and held
in my eyelashes

and the choirs
the creatures of nature
what is just
what is divine
what is meant


and look!
look my love

look how they sing for us
as I sing for you
and you dance with me
and together


© Susan Marie

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Fundraiser for WNY VegFest


WHAT:     Fundraiser for WNY VegFest - Beer! ($5 in locally brewed beer included with your ticket!) Pizza by Allentown Pizza, Wings - no chickens involved, Cupcakes by Sweetly Simple Treats, munchies and appetizers, Live music by Sleepy Hahas

WHERE:  Resurgence Brewery 1250 Niagara St, Buffalo, NY 14213 (716) 381-9868
WHEN:    April 22, 2015 7pm-10pm 

WHY:       Help keep WNY Vegfest free for al! Join us at Buffalo's hottest new brewery, Resurgence! All proceeds go to WNY Vegfest.

The WNY VegFest is growing rapidly each year and quickly becoming THE preeminent healthy lifestyle festival throughout the entire region. The community came out to enthusiastically support the inaugural WNY VegFest in 2014 with over 5,000 people attending and enjoying all the varied the plant powered fun!

Buffalo and Western New York have seen an explosion of interest in health, compassion and plant-based eating over the last few years, and together with the help of local veg advocacy groups and sanctuaries the WNY VegFest is helping to spread the life affirming message of a plant based diet.

Contact: Albert Brown: 716-465-3927 

Check out the Tofurky Trot: Tofurky Trots are designed to support both the health and vitality of local communities and raise money for local groups supporting plant based diets. The race is 5k (3.1 miles) and is a run, trot, or walk open to all levels of physical fitness.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Leave the Pages Bloody

Published first on Rebelle Society HERE

Leave the pages bloody…
Leave them ripe with summer sweat, hard work, no work, lust, love, pain, grief, messy sex, no sex, lovemaking, mouth to mouth, warm hugs, spiritual enlightenment, rebirth, rain, fire, ice, ashes, matches, gasoline and lastly, most integral, life. Leave the pages of your mind drenched with the ink of the breath of every solitary subconscious thought.

This is what writing is all about. It is not just about proper syntax, sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, heck, even spelling. I make up my own words, just like Jack Kerouac did, like sistermoonchild, lightingrites, bumblehum and numerous other misfitlike combinations that happen to pop into my skullbone while writing.

Sure, literary people will tell you that this needs to be fixed and that word is out of order, and that is much appreciated for I am no editor, but to take the meat out of writing, the lymphatic fluid, the millions of veins, arteries and capillaries selflessly pumping oxygen and blood that berths within the lungs, to the heart of the artist, is quite simply, utter and irreversible, literary death.

So leave your pages bloody. Tainted. Sheet stained. Leave them so moist with emotion that when you whip them out the window of your rusted and beat-up 1967 Plymouth Fury convertible, driving 90 miles per hour down some random road to someplace you have never been before, yet shall soon discover, after ripping them out of a 99-cent notebook you bought for no reason whatsoever, make sure whoever catches them, is fully and properly, ignited.

I do not mean just lit up either. I mean changed, awakened, alive, Make sure your words set fire to cities and nations, to hearts and minds, to the very core of every human spirit who is paying attention. Make sure your words seep into the skin of the reader, leaving trace minerals that sustain the ailing human shell.
Make them pay attention.
Set fire to the soul.

Anything less is an abomination to creation.

The entire and main purpose of writing is to make a point. You can choose to share it or hide it; I write for release. If I cease writing, I fully understand and acknowledge that my head will burst like a pumpkin smashed on the sidewalk in October. It does not matter what your point is; it can be business, family, science, work, nature, passion, bliss, love, hate, light, dark, pain, death, love, a voice for the oppressed, suppressed, depressed, obsessed and impressed.

Like a fine tattoo, your words must imprint the reader so deeply that they begin to create, and begin to form different thoughts; quite possibly, they may start to see, if they already do not, this crazy beautiful ugly fucked up lovely mess of a planet we exist on momentarily, I hope always and forever, differently. Anything less is selling your own precious soul, and how dare you call yourself a writer if you refuse to reach into your own dank and dusty closets, yank out those nagging skeletons, grab them right by the damn neck, shake them loose, let them dance around for a while, smack ‘em around, show them who is boss and make them work for you.

You experienced all of that love, loss, pain, grief and bliss for a greater purpose:
To leave your pages bloody.
Don’t get me wrong, rhyming poetry and fictitious love stories are nice and all, but is that reality? How many people do you know call you up gleaming about the sun shining and the robins singing and the shore meeting the waves? Okay, sometimes I truly do feel this way and often write like that, I sound like a hypocrite, I know, but that is not my point. My point is, do not write chicken soup. Everyone knows how to make that anyhow.

Write Miso or Acquacotta, dip those words into some Caldo Verde. Toss them around in Soto and let them swim in Rasam.

You get the picture.

Right now, the sun is shining ever so magnificently. I opened all the blinds in this place I come to write, and the warmth of the great star is soothing my ever-thinking brain that is, undoubtedly, on fire today. It is as if I am in a cell and she, my dear sunshine, is attempting to set me free. Her smiles sneak through the blades, coaxing me to come out and play, although my brain knows it is freezing cold outside. It actually started snowing again. I ignore all thought. I rudely tell my brain that it is an outright dirty, sneaky liar — and often, it is — and continue to type to you now, choosing whatever random thought pops into my head, and hope to cause you to think about your own surroundings.

Look around you. What do you see? What are you ignoring? What are you grateful for? Use all six senses, and even more, ones you do not know yet exist, and tell me, what do you hear?


The low humbuzz of the fan in the bathroom sounds like a drone overhead ready to crush innocent souls.



Try it. Then write about it.

I will catch you on the other side. I will be the one hitchhiking, and I do expect one of the pages from your notebooks, matchbook covers, napkins, and random sheets of paper to fly by my nose so I am able to sniff it out, grab it, read it, grasp it for just that mere moment, and have my eyes whip open ablaze, almost popped right out of my sockets, until deep in my diaphragm the thrushes start to congregate that berth there, impatient to fly right out of my thorax, through my lips, causing me to choke, only to be set free to this glorious, most holy Spring skyline.

Can you do that for me? Meet me there on that freeway?

I am going to go play with the sun. The birds have now joined the sun in her chorus and the daylight is fading quickly. The wind has melded into this orchestral dance, howling so utterly hideous, that it excites me.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Fault Lines

the lines
before this birth
from fingertips
in sand and snow
that align a path
from my spirit
to yours
are fault-lines
that cause
this weary planet
to quake and quiver
during earthquakes
and mad crazed
of Vesuvius

and like rich
molten lava
you push onward

meeting me in sweet slumber

reminding me
of what is
and may be

and i greet you
with open arms
hair wild

as your chin
in the crook of my

oh, such utter

and we watch the world
we were born of


© Susan Marie 

Artwork © Lynne Meredith Golodner

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Dog Ears Bookstore and Cafe 4th Friday Poetry Series



Curated by Fred Whitehead featuring Jennifer Campbell 
joined by several fine writers in Western New York. 

This was an evening at Dog Ears Bookstore and Cafe during The 4th Friday Poetry Series where Jennifer Campbell was the featured reader. To purchase her outstanding writing, listen to audio, and to review her books, visit Jennifer Campbell, HERE.

[Click each name to listen]


Please visit the bookstore, contact Fred about the series and check out Think Twice Radio below.


Thursday, March 19, 2015

above, below, beneath, behind, beside

Published on Poems and Poetry HERE 

your spirit resides

an eternal yearning
met in dreams
and moments
of existential

with you
there is no

an inherent
that our spirits
have met
will meet
collide like atoms
in this universe
like lands yet birthed
before the age of man
before languages
were spoken
when nature existed
in her

this is where we met
the wind whispering
through pine trees
the sun loving soil
the rain drenching valleys
when lightning was born
from a solitary

this is how we first met


© Susan Marie

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Black and Tans [Jackdaw and The Ruffians]

Every St. Patrick's Day I put this out, a fine Celtic Rock Band, my dear brothers, all of them, in rare performance with The Ruffians. 

I recorded, engineered and edited/mixed this at one Irish Feis in South Buffalo managing so many boards I am shocked it turned out good. 

This includes the most mind-blowing version of "Black and Tans" with Danny from The Ruffians playing bones. 

Be safe, enjoy, and Slainte! 

Photo © N. Vargo in Ireland 
Audio © Susan Marie and Jackdaw

Monday, March 16, 2015

Earth's Daughters at Fourth Friday Reading Series at Dog Ears Bookstore

Published on WGRZ HERE

The editors of Earth's Daughters magazine (Kastle Brill, Jennifer Campbell, Joyce Kessel, Janna Willoughby-Lohr, and ryki zuckermanwill read from their work on Friday, March 27, at 7 pm in the Fourth Friday Reading Series at Dog Ears Bookstore, 688 Abbott Rd. South Buffalo. 

The series is hosted by Fred Whitehead.  Admission is $4. Long time sponsor, Bella Pizza, will provide pizza and beverages will be available.

Earth's Daughters is both name of the magazine, which has been publishing for 44 years, and the name of the collective, comprised of the editors, each of whom is an accomplished poet.  Earth's Daughters magazine is the longest continuously published feminist literary arts periodical in the US.  

Kastle Brill is a poet, memoirist, fiction writer, artist, and editor, who has two chapbooks: One Night Stands & Other Pieces of Time and The Head

Her poems have appeared in
  • White Pine Journal 
  • Black Mountain II Review 
  • Serendipityarts 
  • Poetry on the Bus 
  • Earth's Daughters 
  • Celebrating Western New York Poets 

Kastle has read as a feature with:
  • Joanne Kyger
  • NYSCA panel with Allen Ginsberg and Jim Carroll
  • Center for Inquiry
  • Daemen College Readings at the RIC
  • Just Buffalo
  • Artists Gallery
  • Niagara-Erie Writers
  • Ujima Theatre Company

She is also a retired environmental lawyer and an active and passionate tai chi teacher.

Jennifer Campbell is a Professor of English at Erie County Community College/North. In addition to Earth’s Daughters, she co-edits Beyond Bones.  Her first book of poetry, titled Driving Straight Through, was published by FootHills in 2008. In 2013, Saddle Road Press published her collection, Supposed to Love.  

Her work appears in: 
  • Saranac Review
  • Fugue
  • The Pedestal
  • New Millennium Writings 
  • Eclipse
  • Slipstream
  • Slant
  • Sow’s Ear

She has been the featured reader at:
  • Center For Inquiry
  • Empire State College Appletree Series
  • Screening Room
  • Burchfield-Penney Sunday Reading Series
  • Daemen College Readings at the RIC series
  • BuffaloEast

She is the co-curator of the  Center for Inquiry Literary Cafe Series.

Joyce Kessel teaches literature, writing, and interdisciplinary courses at Villa Maria College.  Her chapbook, Describing the Dark, was published in 2013 in the Forty-Three North Chapbook Series from Saddle Road Press. Classroom Quiche (Writer's Den) is due 2015.  

Her poems have appeared: 
  • Celebrating Western New York Poets
  • Waging Words for Peace 
  • A Touch of Saccharine 
  • Point Mass 
  • Backlit Barbie 

Her work has also appeared: 
  • WNY Metro buses through Swift Kick
  • Black Mountain II Review
  • Pure Light
  • Earth’s Daughters
  • A Room of Our Own

She has read at Hilbert College, ECC City Campus, and Empire State College at Appletree, and the CFI.

Janna Willoughby-Lohr was awarded the "Best Spoken Word Artist" title in the Artvoice Best of Buffalo Awards 2010. 

Since graduating from Warren Wilson College, she has been performing poetry and music. She was a Grand Slam finalist in 2005-2008 for the Nickel City Poetry Slam, and a member of the 2006 Nickel City Slam team at the National Poetry Slam. She performs with her band, The BloodThirsty Vegans, "a lively mix of energetic hip-hop, rock, funk, Ska, and blues, topped off with socially-conscious, positive lyrics." 

She has read her poetry at: 
  • Impact Gallery (new/reN.E.W. series)
  • Artpark (Buffalo Society of Artists International Poetry Reading)
  • Wordflight Series
  • Poetry at the Woodlawn Diner
  • Infringement Festival
  • Burchfield-Penney Sunday Reading Series
  • thinktwiceradio

She currently works as a graphic designer for

ryki zuckerman is a poet, editor, teacher, and artist who is the author of the full-length volume, Looking for Bora Bora (Saddle Road Press, 2013), and also the chapbook, body of the work (Textile Bridge Press). She has a forthcoming volume, The Nothing That Is, from Benevolent Bird Press (2015).

Her poems have appeared in :

  • Black Mountain College II Review
  • Slipstream
  • Steel Bellow
  • Swift Kick
  • Lips
  • Escarpments
  • Paunch
  • The Other Herald
  • Pure Light
  • Buffalo News
  • Artvoice
  • poetrysuperhighway
  • Moondance
  • A Celebration of Western New York Poets 
  • Brigid's Fire
  • Mo' Joe anthology
  • Broadsides for Serendipity Arts 
  • Tea Leaves Collection.

She has been a featured reader at:
  • Empire State College Appletree Series
  • Daemen College Readings at the RIC
  • Center for Inquiry
  • The Woodlawn Diner Poetry and Dinner Series
  • Brighton Library "Art All Over the Place" Buffalo State's Rooftop Series
  • Tru-Teas Series
  • Raiders of Niagara Reading Series
  • The Screening Room
  • Artspace Annual Poetry Reading
  • Buffalo Society of Artists International Poetry Reading at Artpark
  • WHLD-AM (AudibleInk Radio)
  • thinktwiceradio

In 2009, ryki was a featured reader for the Poetry Collection of the University of Buffalo at the Butler Mansion. She created, curates, and hosts two series: the Wordflight at Red Doors Series and, for Earth's Daughters, the Gray Hair Series.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

i am spirit

i am


a thoroughbred on fire

Vesuvius exploding
of age old stories
told by firelight

dancing flames of mouths of ancestors
ring in my
external auditory meatus
creating intense magnetic fields
between both palms
placed upon ears

a circuit to free my thinking brain
from onslaught of
and all that exists

in divine ugliness and beauty

this universe encompasses
all that is, was, will be
and I, human, here and now

am spirit

i am spirit, i say
and stand and scream
opening my lungs to this most holy sky
and it blazed like photogenic supernovas
across my inner eyelids
closed, sleeping, awake
my still small hands shake
beneath starry skies in eve

for i am spirit
in this shell
on this Earth,
existing in a Universe

as human.

© Susan Marie