Lost Shadows of Reticence

at the centre of his imagination
all is blurred or veiled
this continual tussle between
reveal or shadow

inevitably creating a journey of suspense
allowing for at times,
no resolution or closure
retreating into these lost shadows

this private reticence
of an untold, nay oft told story
out of sight, off camera
might become an annoyance

but is it not the journey
rather than that, never reached destination
that casts the longer shadow
and matters more?

© 2021 michael d emmerich

© 2021 mikesnexus.com

Expectations of …..

burdens weighing you down

solitude standing wounded bruised

will never be the same again

yet, struggling to remain

 

this warrior struggles to remain relevant

is there beauty in the dissonance?

compassion doomed to atrophy

but yet expectations remain

 

father time approaches

veiled with the cloaked of deceit

bearing down as one avoids

that stinging gift

 

I am awake it’s not over

expectations of invincibility despite

having had enough

lurching back into the fray

 

that next rubicon beckons

cold helpless alone

coming together joining as one

together we’ll cross the river

 

© 2021 michael d emmerich

© 2021 mikesnexus.com

Walking Among Tombstones

fields of tombstones standing in silent watch

appearing as a living breathing entity

it’s about death,

but of course, life gives death meaning

the sublime beauty of repeating imagery

stretching to infinity

yet I’m lost in my own finite world

silence lingers in the air as the dust settles

why are we here, do we exist?

as I gaze ahead, I ponder what I leave behind

what dust of me remains, if even

but yet, here I stand with the remains

 still alive

© 2021 michael d emmerich

© 2021 mikesnexus.com

Take Courage

the only way to beat death

is to live

…..

the only way to live

is to have hope

…..

the way to have hope

is to have courage

……

pushing on gives optimism

whatever begins, ends

© 2021 michael d emmerich

© 2021 mikesnexus.com

A Day (Life) of Remembrance

“Nonintervention does not mean that nothing happens.

It means that something else happens.”
Christopher Hitchens

On this day when we remember the fallen, lets gave pause for thought, to the boys forced to become men, to become killers. In silent contemplation, I at times shout out to my silence; why do we discard our best and brightest to senseless conflicts. The hopes and disappointments of generations of young (mostly) men/boys are always dashed at the altar of political expedience and greed. Young men fighting old men’s wars. The First World War poets have always stuck a deep chord on my soul and I reread the poems and contemplate deeply on the what, why, how and the loss. The poetry of Owen, Rosenberg, Blunden, Gurney and Sassoon are those that I turn to when I need to pause and think, why is this world so fucked up?

Consequently, I have put my pen to writing about war, and the effect it has had on me; as who served, and on our youth and the broader society. Here are some of the poems I have written with a precise of what inspired/motivated me to to put pen to paper. Not in the same league as Owen and Sassoon, but hopefully it will cause you dear reader, to pause, and reflect as to where we are going in this crazy world.

The Forgotten Soldier

Upon reflecting on my time in the military/war as an Ops Medic, my mind flitted around the war, in which I was involved, and its unpopularity (in my opinion) and the baggage that one carries after the fact. The PTSD that soldiers carry with them for life, but that society has long forgotten, especially if the war was unpopular. Sting said: “History will teach us nothing” in some respects he is true.

Fuck War

The passing of Muhammad Ali gave me pause for reflection on the issues of war, forcible conscription and all that goes with it, he went to prison rather than be drafted to serve in Vietnam. I then reflected back on my time when I was forcibly conscripted in 1981 and my battle with the process of all that is war.

My Enemy is My Friend

This arose from a dream I had, which then made me think back to a Wilfred Owen poem I read, “Strange Meeting”. Upon further reflection I cast my mind back to when I was an Ops Medic in the bush war in 1981/82 and the time I spent treating patients at the main POW camp in the now Namibia. My thought process then meandered through a montage of past present and future. It was a difficult poem to write but the words just spilled out once I began.

White Feathers

Penned this on the International day of Peace in Sept this year.                                                 To quote John Lennon: Give Peace a chance.

…. and a few others:

Mist of War

Peace in our Time

The 1% War

© 2018/20 michael d emmerich

© 2018/20 mikesnexus.com

Still Caring

battered, bruised

used and abused

but not destroyed

deception, lies and bullshit

no bond just a hypocrite

is their holy writ

the weight presses down

yet ...

when the call goes out

the deal goes down

I’m still willin’

coz I care

…….

unlike some
© 2020 michael d emmerich
© 2020 mikesnexus.com

 

What is this ….

life, for what purpose

to what end do we exist, or do we?

dwelling in the pain of human finitude

with transient joys, to what end



do not the beasts of the field have more purpose?

finding happiness and meaning,

is it even possible in their world

can we even control what matters?



a reason and a season for this perpetual autumn

my dreams are as stormy clouds, fast approaching

yet tomorrow never arrives

for we are destined to shuffle on and off



we live, we die, we know not why

what is this life

is it even meant to have meaning?

breath, eat, love, shit, work

and then …..
© 2020 michael d emmerich
© 2020 mikesnexus.com

snoopy meaning of life

Enough !!

how long must one endure?

giving up not coz I don’t care

but because others don’t

I’ve fuckin’ had enough



stepping back from life’s bullshit

fighting a losing battle

trying not to lose war

by losing the battle



how deep must one dig?

until you find it all,

then to discover

maybe you still do

….

© 2020 michael d emmerich

© 2020 mikesnexus.com

Too Tired To..

I

the last autumn leaf cleaves

bone tired, refusing to fall

grasping the weathered phalange

extending from the gnarled skeletal branch

reaching ….

by a mere filament it hangs

to stubborn … or

too tired to fall

II

that feeling, at days end

when the marrow has been sucked

from the core of your life

when you just too tired to sigh

……

yes, one of those days

that’s how I wake up these days

© 2020 michael d emmerich

© 2020 mikesnexus.com

What is Home?

home is where we start

but not where were it ends

the pathway from birth to death

is littered with choices



collected, used, stored, discarded

some stones sparkle and tempt

others lie cracked, damaged, exposed

by life's harsh realities



yet there is value in these damaged stones

and then, one day, I will die somewhere

against my will or another’s

but not today
© 2020 michael d emmerich
© 2020 mikesnexus.com