Autumn Anthology: still accepting Poems & Poets

This was first posted a few weeks ago. So far, I have roughly four or five poets who are interested. I am still accepting poetry entries until Dec 1st or until I reach a maximum number of poets. I’m looking for at least 10-15 poets in total. It depends on how many are interested -then I can determine how many poems per poet. Right now I am thinking of at least three poems, but perhaps as many as four poems per poet? Any suggestions would be helpful with this process.


“Last night I made an executive decision for a title. I basically like “Dredging up Demeter: Autumn Anthology of Poetry.” I did some basic artwork based upon this theme.

Anthology Autumn Artwork1 Anthology Autumn Artwork Cover rough1 So far I have a total of five poets if I am including myself!! I am eager for more poets to join in-whether you were one of my poets in the first anthology OR not!! I am more than willing to accept new poets! The basic themes are still the same. I am leaning towards dividing the book in half like I did with my previous project. The first time I just ordered each poem in the order it was emailed to me in the first half of our project. In the second half I put all the remaining poems grouped by each individual poet. We did also include small bio statements which we may not do this time-I’m going to leave it up to my poets-if they wish to do this again or not?

The themes are:

1. Autumn

2. Seasonal Holidays: Halloween, Day of the Dead, Samhain, Thanksgiving perhaps I should also include? Christmas and Winter Solstice here as well…?

3. Changing of Seasons: Summer into Fall or Fall into Winter

If you wish to be included? It is easy. Just email me a poem on one of the above themes. The Deadline is either Dec 1st or when I reach around 20 poets. Then I will ask for at least 2 poems possibly 3 more poems for each poet. My email is: or Please put Poetry Anthology 2 in subject line or Dredging up Demeter.”


Still 9 more days, enter for your chance to win….

There are still 9 more days to enter for your chance to win one of five signed copies of my second Artist chapbook,”Art, Art, Art!!! Before Words.” Volume Two. by Emily Sturgill (2014)

Follow this link below to the site to enter this giveaway. It ends on Dec 1, 2014.

BookCoverPreview Art Art Art before words volume 2 paperback 2014

The babble bustle of the Morning:

The babble bustle of the Morning-

As I wake up I move so

slow, and my mind does wander

on if I wish to write Today

and where my mind should



The babble bustle of my Morning,

my Mother in Law is already

loudly screaming.

As often She tends to do

whenever our dogs are barking

She flips the heck out.


If I could talk to her

rationally, I would explain that

Dogs do bark and its silly

to get angry.

In fact my husband & myself

prefer that our dogs bark naturally-

as that was in the job they were

hired on for, to guard our house



But with Her,

there is no rationality.

So I do not waste my breath.

I let her morning screaming

go on and simply fade into

my morning background,

I ignore the unrest.


With Morning comes,

slow inspiration

it drips as slow

as my dripped coffee

which my body requires neatly,

just as a car requires



So I go downstairs to

face the barking dogs

to face the screaming Widow too

I go downstairs to make my

coffee & then I will bring

a cup filled with dark blackness

and crawl back into my liar

my dragons den

of a bedroom.


Here I will drink my coffee

and allow my thoughts

to percolate

I will try my best to tune out

all the noise, and find a place of mind,

to meditate.


Then I will write.

I will




with words, images,& poetry

which will make total sense

to almost Nobody.


Yet it pleases me

to do so.

To write, to mold the words like clay

into something solid

like ideas, creativity and all the junk

that comes with the art

of writing simple poetry.

The Pathway of the Sun:

The Pathway of the Sun:

Morning arises slowly

as The pathway of the Sun

inches across the Sky,

leaving ribbons of colored streaks

which grow and expand

into a glorious blaze of Sunrise.


The pathway of the Sun:

Morning arises quickly

as people tumble out of

their beds, like crazed tumbleweeds.

Trying to fit into the suit

of each of their lives

as quickly as possible

to get to the places they must go to

as fast as humanly possible.


The pathway of the Sun:

Morning arises quietly

Nobody hears the color of light

yet it changes quite


from a Sunrise

into Blue Skies with velvet white

frosted clouds.


The pathway of the Sun:

Morning dies down daily

as quick as it awakens, it breathes, it grows

into Sunshine filled days

exposed by Time & each time

the Sun fights back He only

manages to die down into

the colors of twilight and  He

gives in to the Epiphany of



The pathway of the Sun:

To rise and fall each day always,

until our time runs out.

Have you ever wondered?

What motivates the Sun,

so that he does not give up completely

and just burn out?

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight:

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight:

by Emily Sturgill, 11/13/14

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight,

and the sun begins to sink

softly slowing it rolls

away shrinking in fear

from the Creature Wind

& the might of the chill

of Michigan’s November Twillight.

The Sun disappears into a Mist

of storm clouds and scattered snowflakes.

And yet the Moon, for her the time is just

not right.

Because, When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight,

For hours the Moon, herself too, remains hidden,

out of sight, and grayness covers everything.

The grayness of twilight, envelopes the Sky.

The Stars hide too because of the crisp

November chill to the Air.

And,  When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight,

you better hang onto your horses tightly,

you better take a deep breath & wait

as the Day becomes united

with the evening Sky,

and even the earliest Star twinkles upon

its own time frame

it glistens only with in

the limits of its very own

simple hourglass.

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight

that is when the Poems finally appear

whispering their rambling murmurs

indirectly in my ear.

the words rattle,buzz, and hum

complete nonsense

making no sense to anyone else but me.

They are not an audible presence but rather

a shape-shifting ghost of a thought.

I reach out for the words

at my brains edges and grab them up

like fists full of dirt.

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight

There is no better Muse

than the Kali Goddess with multiple arms

filled with twilight, nightfall, fading sunlight

disappearing Stars, a Self-conscious Sister Moon

and fist fulls of poems with edges

of dirt and roots

composed entirely of grass.

A sharpen spear, a skull with cross bones & a touch

of fear.

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight

You better be careful.

You better be nice. Don’t tread on that water,

it’s turning to ice.

There is no better Muse,

then a warrior Goddess, with many caring hands

to curl up the world and carry her

like a token favor won

in a feverish struggle between

Kali the Mother Goddess

and Kali the Goddess of War.

When the Daytime is swallowed by the tongue of twilight

I close my eyes.

I open my heart.

I feel the breath of a dragon.

I feel the chill in the air.

I open my eyes

and I close up my heart

Kail is here with me

She guides me blindly

into the direction

of Art.

.57          Note:  This  image was downloaded off internet, I downloaded it only for personal use-like a background image or screensaver- I have no copy write to this image- this is NOT one of my own Art pieces.

& unfortunately I misplaced what site or artist made this. I only am “borrowing” image because it is so very beautiful.

A poetry reading from my most recent chapbook,”Red Bones.” Emily Sturgill, 2014

You can follow me on You using this link:

To watch other Spoken Word Poetry videos by me, I created this playlist here:

For more info on this book & other publications by Emily Sturgill A.K.A Author of “Sex in the kitchen Sink.” The Blog-please visit my Author’s page at

This title “Red Bones” can be bought following this link HERE:

The kindle version is only $2.99. The paperback version is $16.99 and is also available from these sellers:, Create space Store,Barnes &Nobles, and in some libraries. To get it from Barnes & Nobles or your local library you will need to request that they order a copy. As a self-published author, I am still somewhat new to all of this & do not yet have any professional publisher-and the availability-that comes with all of that. I’m just a small girl living in a small world. I hope you enjoy this video, sincerely, Emily

A poetry Reading from,”In Exile From Maxwell park.” By Emily Sturgill(2014)

This is a reading from my 2nd to last latest poetry and artist chapbook which is called,”In exile from Maxwell Park: poems.” by Emily Sturgill (2014)

To buy this book on kindle please visit this link here:

The kindle version is only $2.99

To buy a paperback version please go here: this is the Createspace Store.

List Price: $13.69
8.5″ x 11″ (21.59 x 27.94 cm)
Full Color on White paper
46 pages
ISBN-13: 978-1500285661 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1500285668
BISAC: Poetry / Women Authors

A smashing sampling of poetry gleaned from both my journals and personal blogs. This collection contains small dashings of photography and artwork all designed by me. This is a smaller collection than some prior works.



Book on Bipolar disorder, “A Brief Guide to Thriving for individual with mental illness and their loved ones.”

I reviewed this book on Good Reads last winter, I believe? But in case anyone missed it. It is worth mentioning here again on my blog. This book “A Brief Guide to Thriving for individual with mental illness and their loved ones.” is by Leesa Abbott, Psy.D I am also mentioning this work in particular because the Author has decided to release a personal memoir soon of her own personal struggles and triumphs living with a SMI-(Serious Mental illness) I am beyond excited about her new release and will let my readers know as soon as I know when that title does become available. Dr. Abbott is a University Professor, a professional poet & author, a mental health advocate who also does volunteer work for NAMI in her spare time. On top of all those things, she also leads a support group for teens struggling with depression while caring for her friends and family. Here is my Review:

“In this book, Dr. Abbott addresses several basic issues and concerns, which would be very useful to anyone diagnosed recently with mental illness, or that person’s friends and family.She presents a model of Recovery in five stages. Dr. Abbott writes that she adopted-(invented perhaps?)-this model, after studying similar models such as the well known 5 stages of Grief/ Loss or certain recovery from addiction models.However she contrasts her model by pointing out while other models are static, hers is not. She feels her model is more fluid-to me her model almost seems circular-although we both agree that a person in any process form of recovery from mental illness may repeat these stages or regress or progress at different stages.

As she points out many with mental illnesses may go in and out of these stages at any given time. Here are her five stages: 1. Psychological Changes 2. Self-Awareness of those changes 3.Receiving help.4. Acceptance of ones own mental illness. 5.Reaching out to others. She does explain not everyone will complete this entire process outlined. The last step is the hardest-to deal with stigma and to reach out to others in need-still suffering-while this is noble-not everyone is capable of this or even wishes to try this.(the author does acknowledge this fact.) Also in this book she recounts her own story of mental illness. I do wish that this section was longer and that she would have expanded. But this is a brief guidebook, I do understand why her focus is not on her personal experiences so much. She centers on the issues faced by those with mental illness and how to help.

This is an useful resource no matter what stage of recovery you are in. This book is ideal because it emphasizes two things; You are not alone and there are a multitude of ways you can help yourself.
One last thing I would like to add, is what the Author says about Hope: “The self-fulfilling
prophecy studied by psychologists, includes the idea that what we continue to believe about ourselves or our future will Eventually come to be. It’s essential to maintain a positive outlook about yourself and your future.”(2013, Abbott.L, p.26)”


Video and interview with the author, Dr.Leesa Abbott

Long lost letter to my wardrobe :

Long lost letter to my wardrobe :


Dear Darling Wardrobe:

For years, I’ve added garments to you. I always give while you simply, TAKE, take, take.

Your extensive piles of vomited old clothing all around my bedroom-they never shrink-as I never lose

my faith in You wardrobe. This unwavering faith, that someday I might become a size L again or fit into a

lovely discarded size 14 prom style dress, that I wore so moon moons ago to my 10th year high school reunion.

Some garments are relics of a past, which I must cling to, such as my wedding gown or my College graduation robe from Grad school that was so damn expensive. Dear wardrobe, many items are too small or ripped or torn.

I swear I will mend those socks with the huge gaping holes at their heels, or the see-through silky overcoat with the many rainbow holes. I swear to fix these things but I am a liar. And you and I both know this.

I tell myself I must keep several things a size too small or a size too large, just in case my weight changes.

But my weight for the most part, stays Stoic, Stable and Steady. I have accepted my body, I tell myself. Gorgeous is not a size,I tell myself it’s an attitude, a way of life.

But if I were honest, we both know what I would do. I would swallow my pride whole, and piece by piece

reduce you. I would rid myself of the too small Mom-jeans, of the socks who have no friends, of the outdated out of style size 14 dresses that I own.I would throw away all the holey things, I do not fix and I do not wear.

The clothes too big or too small I would gather into trash bags and deposit them at Good Will.

Think of the room I would save if I just said goodbye to all the ugly sweaters that look much better folded or fallen on the floor than on my size 2x frame? My dear darling wardrobe, many times,I have cursed you, when I cannot find:

Anything to Wear!!!

My husband he dislikes you, for taking some much space away from Us-as you occupy bins, dressers, closets and laundry baskets stockpiled everywhere. Like nuclear bombs from a desert test site, generations ago. Like a possessed Demon, Devil or unfriendly Spirit you haunt us daily by the mere sight of you.Somehow, I must gain access to the sword I carry in my mind’s eye and chop you down bit by bit, down to size, down to MY SIZE, a plus size 2x.

But these things are never easy. Breaking up is hard to do.

I must do something before your hugeness, like a whale, swallows our bedroom whole. Leaving nothing but piles of colored fabric in its wake, trembling at its seams.Dear Wardrobe, I think it would be best if we both started seeing other people.

Or at least, if you saw other people, and if I saw better fitting clothing and less of a mess, tragedy on my bare floor.

I’m sorry Wardrobe for all the lies I fed you. But you lied to me too. You said I would lose all this weight. You told me I definitely would drop down to my high school frame of a size 9 or 11. You said these horrible half-truths, so what’s a girl to do? I trusted you. I believed in you. Not anymore, because the scale always unwaveringly stays stuck between 200-210.

I can no longer pretend. The game is over. I must try to go through you-and shield my eyes-from your outrageous lies and half baked half truths.

Sincerely yours,

a plus sized woman 

a Gorgeous Woman.

CAM01292 CAM01293 CAM01295


This poet is another favorite of mine, check out this recent poem here:


let’s see where do we start
the wooden walls take in the cigarette smoke
you can’t see shit
someone’s playing broken piano on the creaky stage
but you can make out the face
just the silhouette of a man in a hat
there’s flies buzzing in and around the swinging lightbulbs
the barkeep is mopping the floors up with beer
the backdoor is open
you can hear drunken demons laughing in the alley
but as far as you know
you’ve got the bar all to yourself
you and your well whiskey
you and the weight of every one of your years
and you can’t face it you don’t want to face it
but every single failure every single success
has lead you to this hard seat beneath the moon
that can’t shine so harsh on you from inside of the bar
the barkeep wipes down the glasses
the barkeep washes…

View original post 241 more words