The genie is emerging

My creative genie has been stuck in the bottle for awhile, but lately I have been doing some rubbing and its starting to emerge and unravel. Reading has been my refuge during this period, Have been diving back into doing some reading to whip up my creative juices, and have discovered a few exciting poets (Wislawa Szymborska) … and also been rereading some of my classics. TS Elliots “Wastleland” and the writings of Rebecca Solnit have been the nudge I needed to get me going again.

Been working on (IMO) a epic poem which for now; is called: The Birth of Hope … it so far runs to 8 stanzas and there is still more to write, plus I have a few more ideas/drafts/one-liners that have bubbled to the surface.  My ideas journal is a spiders crawl of ink …

I leave you with this thought that has emerged from my mind today whilst flying to work ..

the last gasp of hope is still to be born
push on for the rebirth

Passions Unfurled

 the embryonic morning sun

peeps hesitantly over the mountain

slowly it crawls forth to emerge

escaping from the grasp of night’s pupae

radiant kaleidoscope wings gently emerge

the new day creeps forward

pushing back the night

day emerges, languidly stretching out

offering itself to those in need

who have passions to be sated

new dawn brings new promises

the intended gift of new passions

the impatient subimago fidgets

unable to fully relish the gift

further unfurling wings

expose more of the vivid rainbow

only when the imago finally emerges

can the passions be fully unveiled

totally releasing the new day

mornings passion breaks forth in full colour

imago is now ready, waiting, eager

fully active, totally passionate

unfurling, opened, spread to full imago

releasing new passions, to be desired

the new day can now be fully devoured

let us engorge ourselves

on the alter of unfurled passions


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Embrace the Darkness

be brave, be bold

challenge convention

embrace the darkness

do this and become whole

wiser, more effective

learn to harness the dark arts

use the darkness constructively

find happiness in your dark side

take risks, take the plunge

dive in and enjoy the risk

revel in the darkness

relish the pain

allow pain to become your friend

receive the biological pain messages

change your behaviour right now

feel the burn, release the endorphins

the messenger has arrived

feed your creativity

channel the dark arts

push life to the extremes

find the balance

open the door to your dark side

be introduced, welcome it with open arms

challenge your addiction to comfort

suppressing the dark side

limits our ability to experience happiness

push the opposite end of the spectrum

do not fear the darkness

welcome it, challenge it

investigate it

the messenger

after all has arrived

to tell us something

are you willing to listen?


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Day Becomes Night

A friend from the twittersphere, @nikkiejanee1972, posted a song lyric with an interesting picture, the image raised many thoughts, ideas and emotions. After a few back and forth tweets, the challenge was laid down, to write a poem about the picture. This is what came out of looking at that photo. I have once again dipped into the music and words of my muses, the image is the one above.

the rollin’ and tumblin’ fog fast approaches

the moon out in space cannot see

as mist drifts over its face

the day becomes night

the night is filled with shadows

the early doom fast approaches

muted misty sounds drift hither, thither and wither

her dress reaches out as she spins round twirling, seeking

twin distant orbs burn holes in the mist

the portal etched into the road becomes visible

a guttural grunt, bark, or cough reaches out and grabs your spine

in the damp chill your hair clings to your neck

Cthulhu roars

 the bloated corpulence of his writhing body

slowly emerges

you are lost in a timeless fog

refusing to be driven insane by gazing on the monstrosity

are you not already dreaming of R'lyeh

how does it feel

to be so alone, with nowhere to roam

any day now the fog will lift and the night will end

truth will be revealed as the fog is clawed back

worldwide insanity and mindless violence

finally displacing humanity forever

or just a dream, within a dream

the landscape slowly claws back the light

gleaming in the golden light of dawn

what does it bring

death and destruction

or coffee


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich


Destination Eden

the black snake stretches languidly across the land

unfurled over hills and vales

craning its head back as it beckons, sans hand

come, faster, faster you must prevail

you reach out to attack the black snake

grasping, clutching, familiar smells of the hunt return

bringing with them the pain and ache

you push, feeling the burn, avoiding deaths urn

those familiar markings on the naked skin

as you flick through the curves at high speed

the evocative colours of the original sin

all happening so fast you battle to read

always playing catch up with that snake

but it keeps unfurling further and further

hoping against hope you can still partake

before your fuel vanishes into the ether

this never ending unfolding black dream

eludes all who demand the chase

its best just to sit by the stream

and be enfolded by the soothing grace

of the snakes coup de grace


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

That Small Voice

voices, I think I hear voices

who is that

oh its just me

my still small voice

my voice, starting to sound distant

maybe I’ll just keep knocking

hoping against hope that I open the door

but wait, no one there

move along, nothing to see

that still small voice

chasing me away

saying be quiet

I cannot hear

no solace

walls close in

horizon stretches far away

contact, contact

 yes, a human touch

oh, its just me

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich


In Memorium

My father would have been 82 today, but sadly he passed away 3 years ago. I still miss him, and have been thinking about him a lot of late. Was lying awake during the night thinking of my father. The loss of a parent who was dearly loved leaves a pain that always lingers.

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



© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Trust ?

Trust none of what you hear, and less of what you see

Bruce Springsteen – Magic, 2007

trust openness honesty

who to trust

what to trust

deception deceit

seen through a veil

now hidden




no rainbows

no pots of gold

hollow men

hollow words

blind men

blind followers

fire below

fire above

eyes wired shut

ears grown closed

mouths wide open

no sound

no trust

just white noise


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

Juxtaposition Junxtion

to be or not….

the journey along the road

leads us to be often waylaid

arriving at at juxtaposition junxtion

confused over our mother being our lover

lost in the paradise of milton’s world

unsure if it be heaven or hell

one mans heaven being the others hell

to have or to have not

said the butler living in squalor

but trapped in luxury

disparity and discord morph into a third way

can it all be fair in love and war

sound and fury, calm before the storm

before and after, fat and thin

can all pigs be equal

fighting to live

battling to not die

food to one is death to another

in darkness there is light

what the dickens is going on

wisdom and foolishness battling for hope

it springs eternal in the winter of our discontent

everything to lose and nothing to win

goodness draws forth evil

the circle draws to a close

the bells toils

before the wall is rent asunder

the third way beckons

like a long lost lover


© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

That Well Of Creativity

A mix of thoughts, questions and ideas; analysing what and how we troll the depths of our creative wells. What inspires me (or you dear reader, for that matter) to be drawn to pen what I pen. Of late, these thoughts have been spinning through the dark passages of my mind. Then I had an epiphany…. which has lead me to pen this article on where and how I draw from my well of inspiration.

The one thing I do know, that for me to tap my inspiration I need to be on an emotional high or low. I cannot just be bumbling along, on an even keel. I get ideas and thoughts regardless of my emotional state, but I can only act on them when my emotions are out of alignment. Hence I at times have to drag myself into a thoughtful, dark place to take the ideas in my head or notebooks, and then translate them into words on paper. The easiest way for to do this is via music, I have a few artists whose lyrics have the best effect on me, they drag me into a thoughtful emotive state to best translate my thoughts to paper. There are some songs on depressing subjects out of which I have written emotive, and even positive or romantic poems. That will keep some “shrinks”happy for hours or even the subject of an interesting article for “Psychology Today” 🙂 My wife is relieved to hear that I do not have to be physically depressed to draw my thoughts out 🙂

I do know that reading and music are very useful triggers for me to draw deep from the well; both of need to be on the dark side, for me to accurately tap my creative well. Reading the First World War Poets; notably Owen and Sasson, and some of the classical Poets; Milton, Blake, Elliot and Chaucer (although he is more humorous than dark). Musically the lyrics of Dylan and Springsteen are best or the harmonious sounds of Pink Floyd ELP and Ulver – (especially there their album: THEMES FROM WILLIAM BLAKE’S THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL). These are my main sources of flitting on the edges of deep dark thoughtful emotions. My wife has an interesting take on my mindset, she feels I thrive on or need angst in my life… not entirely convinced on that front yet … 🙂 but she does have a point ….

The whole subject of creativity and depression is well documented over the years, with many interesting articles written on the great painters, composers and writers. So far be it from me to expound to much further or bore you with details of the great ones. I do want to share a few very interesting articles I found on one of my favourite websites; if you have not visited Maria’s site please pop over to: and follow her on twitter:

Lou Andreas-Salomé, the First Woman Psychoanalyst, on Depression and Creativity in Letters to Rilke
“A great deal of poetic work has arisen from various despairs.”

Alison Bechdel on Writing, Therapy, Self-Doubt, and How the Messiness of Life Feeds the Creative Conscience
“It’s by writing… by stepping back a bit from the real thing to look at it, that we are most present.”

Probability Theory Pioneer Mark Kac on the Duality of the Creative Life, the Singular Enchantment of Mathematics, and the Two Types of Geniuses
“Creative people live in two worlds. One is the ordinary world which they share with others and in which they are not in any special way set apart from their fellow men. The other is private and it is in this world that the creative acts take place.”