that wall of time over the years it just gets higher the great separator that great divide shuffling out the old ushering in the new breaking bridges along the way conformity that builder of walls destroyer of bridges ensuring, at best only memories remain bridges built across time memoirs adsorb the unwanted safely travelling back allowing old to become ….. the new, new
© 2017 michael d emmerich
The ideas are there, still flowing, my ideas journal is being topped up, writing is taking place; but I am just battling to fully translate the ideas into a completed poem – that is ripe and ready to enjoy – in my opinion. The branches are thick with fruit, they look tempting, ready to pick, but no; they are still to green, so there they must hang and just be viewed by me and not enjoyed by others. Each day I return to see if they can be picked and posted, but no, so I just have to sit and stare at them, hoping they ripen, so frustrating. At present, I am writing, but all the poems are either incomplete or unsatisfactory – just missing that something.
My usual tricks of the trade are not working:
They say that writer’s block, is often caused by conflicted emotions, outside pressures and distractions outside the norm. Most of us who write are marginally OCD, (or maybe I should only speak for myself) when it comes to our writing and the finished product. We can see the finished product, but just battle to map the route or are confused by the multiple routes available, or as in my case; I am at point A and can see that I need to be at B or whatever! but have no clue as to where the path lies. I have a few finished poems, but am afraid to post them, afraid that they will not measure up to the readers expectations, which is really bullshit, as how can I presume to know what the reader will read or interpret. As they say one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
My writing is at times cathartic and I write even in the deepest and darkest moments, but not today, (or yesterday or the day before that). Is it possible that to much angst, can be a bad thing?
“A great deal of poetic work has arisen from various despairs.”
Lou Andreas-Salomé, the First Woman Psychoanalyst, on Depression and Creativity in Letters to Rilke
What do you, dear gentle reader, do if you are a writer and/or artist?
© 2017 michael d emmerich
To all of my followers and gentle readers, I am busy preparing my anthology of poetry for publication later this year. To this end I have started a crowd funding campaign, donors are also eligible for a personal signed copy, shipped to them once published.
help-me-to-publish-my-first-poetry-anthology
The introduction has been drafted, cover has been designed, back stories for some of the poems penned and possibly a few interesting photos of my working notes have been taken to (hopefully) insert into the anthology. This is where you dear gentle reader come into the picture, by helping me to select 30 to 35 poems, some of which are listed on my site:
The working title of the anthology is yet to be decided, but I am dabbling with; Shadow Chasers or Chasing Shadows .. as many of my poems delve and dive into the gray, darker parts of my mind
Thanks again for all the likes and follows, and hopefully some of you, by year end, be a proud owner of a signed and inscribed copy of Chasing Shadows.
see you in the web world 🙂
sub-titled – the ballerina assassin @nikkiejanee1972
in the still of the night as we chase the sunset candles flicker in the wind the swan lies in repose the pirouette slows en pointe is driven home when the deal goes down red lips of mercury approach the mist rises the die is cast the creed is done these visions of bella donna conquer my mind my achilles is found I claw my way out of the memphis mobile feeling blue pill box hats consume my dreams the wind whispers la’ bella while mercury vapours consume me my time is pledged the reaper awaits the sad-eyed ballerina assassin enters, riding the 6th white horse of the apocalypse as she drifts slowly over the undulating lowlands tears are falling from on high the lips of a precious angel delivering kisses like buttery wings while storms roll in from afar bringing that familiar morning smell we oh so love stoned and fractured harried by the dozen and 35 the swan is lowered to yonder depths to rise again à bientôt
© 2017 michael d emmerich
grief disorder or disease sign of weakness some would say but, it is the price we pay for living an emotional, physical spiritual necessity part of who we are the price you pay …… for love the cure for grief it is to grieve own it hold it close treasured, nurtured it is the price we pay for caring the journey of life requires travel luggage grief is our carryon luggage our constant companion the price we pay for being
© 2017 michael d emmerich
I’ve been hit hard seen too much I need your touch to be healed now falling in love with you ‘twas the right thing to do as the evening shadows lengthen and the stars appear you are there to dry my tears and offer me a warm embrace as I feel your love tomorrow night when the sun dips I know what I’m gonna do hold you for a million years to feel your love dreams come true in the enfolding love blows away all the pain that I'm living you believe in me bleed for me I know what I’m gonna do …… feel our love
© 2017 michael d emmerich
so far away but never to far to not be seen be it in your dreams or nightmares as real as the here and now for those who sleep in that black hole lost in time loved eternally inspired for life will you stay? sleep tight be not afraid the ones you love are here with you lay your head on your pillow prepare a place for me cause when you ready I’m there chasing rainbows while we dream eternally
© 2017 michael d emmerich
the setting sun burns deeply into the darkest recesses squinting at what lies before sinuous curves cutting into the dry earth unravelling before me terrain is familiar but I’m a stranger in an unchanged world taking the long way home the road less travelled carries more traffic than usual familiar faces are now obscured/unrecognisable commonality destroyed rapid lips firing soundless machine gun bursts of polemic I neither see, hear or understand don't cry no more cause soon it’s morning finally it dawned on me I don’t have to travel very far, or at all to get home
© 2017 michael d emmerich
flight or fight feed or fight decision, choices new approaches, nurture or battle the demons that exist within conflict needs resolution become the peacemaker restore the balance challenge yourself step into the shadows embrace your demons nurture, feed these inner demons, begin the journey integration reconciliation inner peace
© 2017 Michael D Emmerich
ignorance, wisdom two sides of the same sword conviction, divine certainty lends people the will to believe all sorts of atrocities under some banner herd stupidity encourages partaking of the kool aid, seemingly wise people desirous of ignorance choosing to not see what is evident escape from the herd is the only choice to recover ones senses slowly, after all the easiest person to fool is none other but yourself
© 2017 Michael D Emmerich
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