Not my circus, not my monkeys…

An old proverb
has been circling the
cybersphere lately…
Not my circus, not my monkeys.

I ponder its meaning.
As I re-examine
lost souls in my life.

sometimes the drama
is much too great
much too overwhelming
to engage in.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.
As I imagine cotton candy
high wire acts, a circus of
clowns.

Sometimes you can care
for a person quite
a lot but you do not
wish to go down the dark
hole of a tunnel
within them.

You try to lend
a helping hand
to lead them out of their darkness.

but as you try to grasp
for them their hand
just disappears and vanishes
into deep depression.

and its like a tornado
has a hold of them
and they are trying to
pull you down with their ship
like someone who is
only interested
in drowning.

and then you whisper
shellshocked,
not my circus.
not my monkeys.

Kali; Daughter of the Mystic Mountain

A very powerful poem by Wuji.

Wuji Seshat

57

Mother Kali, so radiantly black
I have seen your face in the Universe
Destroying worlds to satisfy
Evolution’s will for Supernovas

There is subtle light in Darkness
Power in contempt for false growth
Kali, take me into thy black light
Beyond luminosity, that I may breathe there

The spiritual rare of all ancestors
Blaze a fierce trail of strength in my soul
That I may reborn with a blissfully vanquished
Will, that knows how to submit to the higher power

And follow a law so eternally omnipotent
No mind remembers the overwhelming black
Before the big bang’s lotus shine of triumph-light
Om Kali! Om Kali! Om Kali!

I want to visit your incomparable form
Mold my chakra with your ruthless energy
For the foolish poet is not any Kalki-striving
Revelatory experience is not of this world

Grant me not visionary gift, but a meditation
From the most brilliant gem of…

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Coming Clean

Coming Clean
releasing
negativity
in the form
of typewritten
speed.

Feelings will come.
Feelings will go.
Sometimes you just gotta
type it out.
instead of scream or shout.

Sometimes you just gotta come
clean to the facts
not everyday
is rainbows and puffy
unicorns.

not everyday is perfect.
without the bad stuff
there would be
no yin to my yang
or the opposite no yang
to my yin.

Sometimes you gotta accept
that bad days come and go
despite lingering unrealistic
beliefs that every day start
with super duper
positive affirmations
to set us apart.

the misguided view that bad days
just do not happen
even to the best of you.

it’s the worst type
of foolery.
Nobody has a perfect life.
Everybody has some waves
on their sea.

All you can hope for
is to be
the best me
that you can be
in any given situation.

I’ve gotta come clean.
For sometimes
bad days do happen.
But on the flip side
not everyday will be
rotten or bad.

Life comes with both.
Good and then Bad.
There is learning to find
in the flip side

of any coin

you throw

into your wishing well.

Do you know, what I mean?
I just gotta come clean.

It’s not all rainbows
and puffy unicorns.

but instead life is like
a seed, the more you water
the more you grow
the more you gleam
and the more you
sow.

Rewind on the Repeat-

Rewind on the repeat-by Emily Sturgill July 1, 2014
(extra caution contains some cuss words.)

I don’t really
spend much of
my time,

bitching about
Life
and pressing Rewind.

But some days, sometimes,
even I get
a case of the moody blues.

I feel as though
my feet and legs
are just dragging
sand.

I feel like
I cannot
begin to even
understand.

When the Walls
come crumbling down.

And money just seems
to trade hands.

It comes-
then it goes.

I’m dealing with
nameless
faceless
government
Agencies.

And the paper pushers-
who
don’t seem to know
or care about me

or what i do.

Some of the folks
are very kind.
but there are others
who are the type
that make You
just wanna hit
Rewind.

Screw it! Fuck it!
Anger beyond belief.

but I am not the type to bitch
or complain.

I am not the type
to live life on the repeat-
to Rewind.

I don’t really wish
to dwell,
on things I cannot control.

Sometimes you gotta scream
and yell-but there’s an appropriate
time and place for it.

To show a huge fit-
to scream and to yell
even if its only at
an empty pillow.

As your punching that
pillow in its face-
its pillow
talk baby.

pillow talk maybe?
pillow talk if you
will as a way to re-direct
your frustrations.

feeling like an ant marching
uphill.

I don’t really
spend much of
my time,

bitching about
Life
and pressing Rewind.

But some days, sometimes,
even I get
a case of the moody blues.

Help Wanted:Poets please apply. Edited by Emily Sturgill..Video Re-do

A reading of 3 poems from the Anthology, “Help Wanted: Poets please apply.”Edited by Emily Sturgill, 2014. It is a collaborative collection featuring the works of 19 poets total, 57 poems and 19 bios. It is 100 pages long and currently available on kindle for just 99 cents. The paperback version is $25.95 .It is available off both Createspace/store/.com and Amazon.com.

Here is a link:http://www.amazon.com/Help-Wanted-please-Sturgill-Anthology-ebook/dp/B00L6O5P7C/ref=la_B00B1GC5LY_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1404238320&sr=1-1