An EMS colleague of mine posted this picture the other day ….
All I can can say … is that losing a patient takes away apart of you, you can never get back. I wrote an article on this entitled:
For those who ask this question, to those of us who work in EMS … take a read … and ponder awhile, at the of the cost of care. To my colleagues who keep going back to do the same … thank you ….
Cover image courtesy of: © 2011-2017 DanSun PhotoArt
Took these pictures whilst out walking on Wednesday night, to have dinner at a neighbouring project. … as the sun was going down after a day of heavy rain … love the rich vibrant colours of the African sky.
Location- In the bush in The Southern DRC.
Amazing nostalgic soulful song with an African feel on the percussion and rhythm. Love the soul in this song, although it brought a tear to my eye … as I miss my loved ones (family) whilst being so far away ….
Fly, fly away
Do you remember?
All of us sleeping
How many of us dream?
This sky where we live
Is no place to lose your wings
So love, love, loveThe Derek Trucks Band – This Sky
bend that bow draw that string pluck that apple aim straight and true no telling what may happen as the apple balances precariously on that head lived vicariously pierced deliciously desirous of heaven’s gate? pierced to the core bitten off more than one should swallow all a quiver as eden’s gate beckons
© 2017 michael d emmerich
This poem goes out to my buddy and dear friend, Victor …thinking of you dude 🙂
the struggle against adversity brings forth changes dragging one up or down push upward reaching for higher levels of functioning which did not previously exist building resilience absorbing damage but not failing bouncing back
© 2017 michael d emmerich
where the neck meets the shoulder the head slowly turns creating mysterious shadows and hollows the extension of her leg as she reaches rising, pushing grasping, holding the swell of her breasts as she slowly inhales and then oh, so exquisitely exhales the allure of the thigh disappearing upwards towards that mons aahhh the beauty of it all …. with those dangerous alluring curves
© 2017 michael d emmerich
First massive thunderstorm to hit our region in the Southern DRC … made me think of this song. Toto – Africa
I managed to take some photos of the rain, muddy water and gorgeous colours; a pity I could not capture the rolling thunder and loud cracks of lightening across the sky. The storm was right overhead so our lightening siren went off, as many people are killed in this region by lightening strikes. The water was ankle deep in places from the flash storm, and trees were blown over. Thankfully my tent stood solid and is dry inside – tent picture is take from some time back, not from today 🙂
it’s all gods will I was made to do it evil deeds as a “good man” the hypocrisy of it all god is good as long as it’s my god on whose side is god the victor or the vanquished the entitled or the underdog whose god is on your side?
© 2017 michael d emmerich
creeping relentlessly onward
with its hunger
yet to be sated
only tamed by the belief
of that seductive attraction
pulling opposites into orbit
closer and closer
until two worlds collide
exploding in a frenzy of passion
live for now one ride one chance seize it it’s all we have no return ticket just a one-way trip straight over the horizon …. and begone
© 2017 michael d Emmerich
Anthem for Doomed Youth What passing bells for those who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns, Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons, No mockeries for them from prayers and bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, – The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes, The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. Wilfred Owen
How can one read that poem and not have a tear or two in ones eye or a lump in one throat. In memory of the fallen soldier and the many young men forced to fight old men’s battles, I am posting a few of the poems I have written about war and the price that youth have to pay for the greed of others.
Please visit my Facebook page where I am posting a few more of the poems I have written over the years on war its burden and cost.
mikesnexus 