The Feast of Life

this adventure called life

when does it start

when do we arrive

are we there yet

the journey commences

for the usual fee

can we stop to wallow

life says no

push on to prevail

reality is a beast

that we ignore at our peril

but ignore we must

immerse we must

in life we wallow

feast at the table

even if only for the crumbs

is there time

make time!

the table is always set

savour it

taste it

relish life

drink it in

smell the scent of lust

slay the beast

obey all the rules

you miss all the roses

strive to be drunk on life

long for the next adventure

then you will know

when you arrive


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

That Never-Ending Story

as I lay dying

eyes wide shut

voices, I hear voices

under the bridge

is death the end

present but temporal

through the looking glass

destined to be wandering

in a lost land

all that you’ve held sacred

falls down

chances missed, opportunities avoided

does the misery continue

is it all a mystery

peace, settlement, nothingness

melancholy morbidity

a moment of eternity

an eternity of moments

emerging from the rabbit hole

remember that death need not

be the end

or is it?


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

#micropoetry No. 4

Continuing the challenge to keep writing poems of 144 characters or less. Here are three more #micropoems. Poetry for twitter 🙂


my finger is on the trigger

needle is in the vein

my blood is on my hands

my soul is in disarray


lost is the answer

question remains’ uncertain

all that is certain

is mortality


red mist clears

sun breaks through the clouds

my soul is in my hands

red poppies look beautiful

in the cold morning light

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Down to the River

After writing an article; The Art of Silence, and upon further reflection, I penned the following poem. In light of the books and music I have been indulging in of late; this took the poem down a darker path, than initially intended.

everybody should be quiet

near a little stream

where the wild roses grow

and just listen

down to the river we ride

be silent, listen to your heartbeat

take my hand, I'll take yours

to much madness and sorrow

the loudest words are not spoken

living in this age of rage

down to the river we go

walking towards the light

this beautiful place

wearing many guises

sending me down the river tonight

my baby and I

the river runs clear in the night

no words needed to uncover

an ability to let things go

take solace in the silence

an inner absence of preoccupation

masks the hidden messages of compliance

do you know where

the wild roses grow

down by the river

together you may get away

baptised in the river


be delivered

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Dying to Live

days spent around death

encourages one to live

day by day we die

until we choose to live

life is not lost by dying

life is lost by not living

time never runs out

challenge each day to live

choose to live

with intent

facing life with hope

each day is a new life

each day the butterfly emerges

allow it to flap its wings

to create change

changing the smallest details

completely changes the outcome

grasp the live by the throat

demand to live

live each day to the fullest

until we are absolutely assured

that life will escape us

demand that your life

demonstrates this principle

understanding our limited existence

shout out that each day must be taken

living every day as if it were your last

for one day you're sure to be right


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

god is in session

wailing, screaming sirens

tear the night apart

screeching burnt rubber

scar the asphalt

as you deeply inhale and sigh

carbon, rubber and sweat

attack your senses

hands on the spinning steering wheel

thinking, planning, expecting

the unexpected

no plan survives initial contact

grabbing rushing pushing jostling

questions, answers

sobbing screaming crying

 ……. silence

gloved hands palpate poke prod

ears listen, eyes roam

instructions issued

 god is creating

and it will be good

skin exposed

clothes cut

working in blood and flesh

are gods tools

needles puncture

flashbacks appear

and reappear

machines beep

fast then faster

fluids chase in

smells assail your senses

burnt metal, blood, vomit

you drive them down

sweat drips off god

mixing with blood

god is in session

angels hover


applied and present

vials crack, needles puncture

….. skin

beep … beep …….. Beep

slower and slower

vocal chords visualised

the bag of life

is squeezed


rhythm of life is kept in balance

a refractory pause ensues

gloves changed, sweaty brows mopped

spectacles wiped clean of sweat

decisions discussions decisions

beeping changes

angels move closer

god intervenes

shoves them rudely aside

not today god says

not on my watch

© 2016 michael d emmerich

image courtesy of – Image © 2011-2017 DanSun PhotoArt

Everybody Dies

everybody dies

but not everybody lives

life without living

death without dying


walk through forests filled with demons

avoid the the paths

live a little

get lost


chase the demons

don’t let them chase you

catch a demon by its tail

then let it go


laugh in the face of death

one life

live it

love your life


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich


black is the colour

red is the number

blue is the steel of the knife

lost is the answer

what is the question

gray is the smoke

orange is the glow

the smoke curls upwards

mortality is the answer

preservation is at stake

golden is the silence

orange is the colour

ripping the silence apart

crystal are the tears

raining down on the moment

lost is still the answer

the question remains uncertain

all that is certain

is mortality


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Elijah’s Door

we open the door but no one comes in

but we must always be wiling

to leave the door open

for those with wanderlust to enter

or those with questions to exit

the door to the dark

enter from the dark to the light

or exit out into the dark

either way we can always

while waiting

sip from the chalice at the portal

knowledge brings light to the darkness

making the unknown known

the artist ventures out into the dark

through the open door

to measure the unseen

to tell the story of the unknown

the open door leads out

to all that is not yet known

we can get lost out there

in the vastness and strangeness of the dark

although we can also find harmony

those with wanderlust can become anyone

or no one

the door is always open

if we can find our way back

as the solitary aspect of getting lost is enticing

mystery becomes our compass

we become like Dante traversing

jumping to hell and back

to find ourselves back in paradise

at the open door

always be willing to leave a door open

peace could enter unannounced

future redemption could even enter

or we could exit on another enticing journey

getting lost on a quest for questions

questions that might not have answers

what then comes first?

the question, the answer

or the intention?


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Facing Mortality

my finger is on the trigger

the needle is in the vein

my blood is on my hands

my soul is in disarray


my dreams are littered with death

the smells soak my dreams

drenching my bed sheets

awakening, bound in linen and sweet


in the distance I see fields

littered with red poppies

drooping, dripping in the morning mist

bending with the weight of the unknown


mortality waits at every turn

the knife blade glints in the morning dew

the bare wrist looks inviting

as the knife slides silently into its sheath


the red mist clears

the sun breaks through the clouds

my soul is in my hands

the red poppies look beautiful this morning

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich