The Wall of Time

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


that builder of walls

destroyer of bridges

ensuring, at best

only memories remain

bridges built across time

memoirs adsorb the unwanted

safely travelling back


old to become


the new, new

© 2017 michael d emmerich

Writers/Creative Block (Partial)

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:

  • Longs walk (done)
  • Inspirational playlist via headphones (done)
  • Required reading (done)
  • Teapot full and ready (done)
  • Dream Inspiration (incomplete)
  • Vent/Rant writing (Incomplete)
  • Faking it till I make it (battling there)

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

Self Publishing My Anthology

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.


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:

Michael’s Poems

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 🙂