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Inspiration Comes Knocking

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It came knocking and I opened the door and welcomed it with open arms. Inspiration brought friends, as I have been diving into the classics of late; Milton, Shelley, Poe, Goethe and then the music of Carl Orff and the more recent music of Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan and The Alan Parsons Project. From this mish-mash, has come a torrent of thoughts, ideas, annotations and my ideas Journal is looking very busy and messy these past few days … 🙂

I am putting the finishing touches to a few poems and I am for the first time in awhile excited about this new work that I am putting out, it is (IMO) quite a different style of writing …

So watch this space … it might be a busy few days/weeks that lie ahead, plus I have a few pressing editorial deadlines :O

Voices

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Sitting alone on a remote site, in my small tent for the night, cold outside. No contact all alone, after a while it gets a tad claustrophobic, no matter how wide the horizon.

 

voices, I hear voices

who is that

that still small voice

sounds so familiar

oh, it’s just me



starting to sound distant

I’ll just keep calling

hoping against hope

that the door opens

to where?



at last it opens

but wait, there is no one there

that still small voice

chasing me away

saying begone



no solace

walls close in

horizon stretches beyond

longing for contact

 that human touch

at last

….

oh, it’s just me

© 2018 Michael D Emmerich

Writers Block and Life

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Hi to all my gentle readers and followers… as they say in the classics; life is what happens when you not looking … or; life is what creeps up on you, when you busy dealing with life.

Life has been very busy for me of late …hence my absence at times, over these past months. Which has prevented from putting all my thoughts down on paper, at times the thoughts don’t come … they remain hidden by a gray, misty murky cloud … which rolls in and stays for awhile. Like the cheesy horror movie The Fog … (not the 1980’s Carpenter classic, but the 2005 cheesy remake). I have been/felt trapped and fighting for the fog to lift, while investigating/unpacking; truth, history, love, life and reviewing the past and present, and carefully considering this uncertain future.

2017-07-06 10.12.49

Life is now presenting itself in a less murky fashion and the fog is lifting, receding; so as I stumble forward, at times 2 steps forward 1 step back, which at least allows me to pick up the pieces I might have dropped.

2015-11-09 07.06.27

So that’s my story … I have kept my journal close to my side during this time and have many varied, confusing and dark scribbles to unpack. The unpacking has begun, the pieces have been picked up (those that could be found), as I continue to slowly move forward … down the long and winding road of life. The unpacked, dark, murky, scrambled scribbles are coming together into more than a few poems and articles which should start hitting this site very soon … thank you for your patience …

winding road ahead

 

The Mark of Cain

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cain’s mark, an unstable man

groaning and shaking on the earth

unable to release his grasp

or be the man he could be



stains of the past

scar for life

as the past passes one by

if not for you, then who?



healing eases the pain

but memories remain

leaving scars

and crosses to bear



healing, forgiveness

remembrance or a warning

that mark comes with a great burden

and a sacrificial cost?

© 2018 michael d emmerich

Too Much Blood for Words

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(Bleeding Words Part 2)

Additional thoughts on this poem I wrote on 27 Feb, 2018 – Bleeding Words – my journal is littered with half finished poems and new ideas/concepts/memories; keep falling onto the pages. Just battling to put many of the ideas to bed, as finished poems, the final close out of many of the poems just escapes me at present ….

 

red stained pages

drenched, dripping

cannot see the words for blood

draining from my pen

onto the floor

pooling

coagulating

words escaping

frozen and timeless

in blood

© 2018 michael d emmerich

In Memoriam

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My father would have been 84 today, sadly he passed away 5 years ago. I still miss him, and have been thinking about him a lot of late. The loss of a parent who was dearly loved leaves a pain that always lingers. I wrote this poem 2 years ago in 2016, and the absence is still there …

fathers are refuge from the storms of life

when that safe port passes on

when the lighthouse fades

all that is left are the memories



memories never fade

they are never forgotten or passed over

they remain



memories shine through the mists of time

even when the lights fade and no one lives there

they remain constant, eternal not ethereal

these remain, never forgotten



what was once real is now no longer

the reminders of your love do not fade

they remain



through the years we walked different paths

they diverged and merged over the years

at the end they had become one

constant reminders of our togetherness



unconditional love learnt

remains

© 2016 michael d emmerich

Free Fall

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into the distance I gaze

a flight of fancy awaits

with wings spread

soaring towards the sun



like Icarus and Lucifer

I thought, I thought of everything

warning lights ignored

navigator long since departed



on a wing and a prayer

flying to close to the sun

flew to high and to soon

it’s all melting away



I’m now freefallin’

like those before me

hell to heaven

a fall from grace



an angel awaits

enfolded by ruffled feathered wings

healing my wounds

with time

© 2018 michael d emmerich

A Shooting Star

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Dedicated to my gorgeous, patient, long suffering, beautiful .. wife

stars-and-comets

saw your shooting star tonight

shattering the black of the night

flying across an amber palette

burning bright for all to see


that’s your mystique

slicing that veil of darkness

let your light shine through

my darlin’



you shine best

on the darkest of nights

burning brightly

chasing my dark away



that’s what you do best

dragging me to the light

my darlin’

© 2016 michael d emmerich

Moments of Introspection

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Been silent for awhile, still writing furiously and embroiled with emotion. Here are a few quotes that have drawn me into different places.

 

Dealers Choice?

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people often say

I’ve been dealt a bad hand

the cards are crap

to many jokers and the deuces suck



the cards we are dealt

is the hand we hold

until the dealer next shuffles

but the game never ends



the trick is, turn the cards

to your advantage

seven aces in spades

transforming death to life



good players of the game

overcome the adversity of a bad hand

despite what they hold

they know they can win



when your world depends

on what’s in your hand

go all in, don’t back down

never let a bad hand

hold you back or pull you down

© 2018 michael d emmerich