Not enough

Not enough-

Dec 26th, 2014

Friday Afternoon 2:49 EST

Not enough

Never enough

Not enough

sleep.

Not enough,

to eat.

Not enough,

to touch the sky & kidnap the Sun.

Not enough, to learn how to fly,

just enough to become

untied

undone.

Not enough to reach outwards and find it.

Not enough to reach out, and grab the happy

right off someone else’s face,

because my happy

its become erased

misplaced

lost confusion.

It’s just not enough,

to fix up this place.

It’s not enough to straighten

this room, to clean between the cracks, to sweep

a broom across this dusty room

deep inside my minds eye.

Not enough,

to touch the sky & kidnap the Sun.

Not enough, to learn how to fly,

just enough to become

untied

undone.

It’s not enough to

try to run, to sprint, to finish

the race.

I’m fresh out of lungs

the air is too sharp, cold and dry-

It’s not enough,

to just sit here

waiting for you

to get home.

It’s not enough, to be a failure as a housewife,

to be a successful lunatic

with a Masters Degree

and no job prospects.

It’s not enough

to be a crazy person,

living on SSDI, it’s not enough, to always

live in someone else’s shadow

it’s not enough

to be the ghost

you can come home

and answer too.

Don’t you understand?

My wings may have melted, because I flew

too closely to the Sun

but I have dreams too.

I do not long to be

someone else’s

no one.

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.

a sinking feeling

a sinking feeling by Emily Sturgill 6/24/14

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
and your leaving for work
as you kiss me goodbye

all I see on your face
is anger and hurt.

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
your disappointed in me
once more again

somehow, some way I
have let you down again.
and there is no time
for words or apologies.

a sinking feeling,
as the ship goes down,
I can see with one look
your angry with me

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
I do not even have or own
the magical words

of saying I’m sorry,
because you do not share
whatever wrong I’ve done.
this day is off to a rocky start.

a sinking feeling
as the ship goes down,
with one angry look
you cracked my heart.

split it halfways
like two sides
of a cracked raw
egg yolk.

a sinking feeling,
as the ship goes down,
as I sit here in a precursor to all my tears,
I know you’d throw me overboard in a second

hoping that this time
I would splash, sink, sputter
and finally
drown.

as the ship goes down.

Mothers Day

Mothers Day-
5/8/14
by Emily Sturgill

I feel
the pressure
of your hand
on
my forehead still…
to see if I was sick with fever.

The pressure
of your fingertips
lingers lightly
on my head.

Oh, what I would give!
Just to wake up one day
and learn your no longer
dead.

The memories,
are merely moments
I shared with you.

Years, Years, and Years
ago-
many many moons ago-

If only I knew,
how quickly
moments, and memories
disappear…

I would have pulled you tighter
and held you near.
really regretting all
the fights we once had.

And,
I wonder if your
in heaven
and
are you still mad?

The journey towards forgiveness

I do not usually post blog-style confesionals. I’m much more of a poet, than anything else. In fact in addition to my poetry online, I have been keeping multiple journals at home and handwritten. One is more private confessional journal type enteries and the other is mostly poems, ideas, and sometimes tarot readings I give myself or lists of things to do or lists of music playlists.

HERE…is mostly just where I share poems, unless I am all fired up. Today, I am all fired up and I think its vital to share because it might help others to move forward.

I am all fired up about the notion of forgiveness. In theory, I do believe it is better to forgive even if not forget or forgive ANd forget-whatever works best for you. But in practice I find this to be a slippery slope. i struggle very much on how to forgive, when to forgive and how to let go. Honestly, I hold horrible grudges. And they are horrible in truth because mostly they only serve to hurt me-myself-nobody else.

All that angry righteous high horse b.s. I desperately hold onto-a sense of who iswrong and who is right? Honestly, it does not serve me much any longer-in fact it wears me down, makes me feel guilty and mad, like an angry hornet shook lose from its nest.

so today, I was with my hubby and we were at the bookstore out of nowhere i spotted like the ideal book and he bought it for me with a couple other items. This book is called, “The forgiveness formula: how to let go of your pain and move on with Life.” It was on sale at barnes and nobles-only$6.98-hardcover-by author Kathleen Griffin. @2004.

I am only on pg 16 so far but this book is exactly what i needed to hear at this time. i am in fact blown away.I am just writing about this because forgiveness can be ajourney-a pathwy-towards feeling lighter-less burdened. And in my heart, i realize it is not an easy thing to forgive. That more folks than just myself struggle with it. Holding onto the past so tightly it only distorts your vision of the present moment and it poisons the well of your future happiness. This seems true to me.

Someday I really hope I can learn to forgive, hopefully sooner than later because all this angry i hold deep down inside-it only strangles me-making it harder to breathe making it harder to reign into my sanity. I realize i am not the only sufferer out there but by refusing to allow forgiveness its like picking a scab, bruised and bleeding-the wound will not heal. I know I will not heal either. By the way, I highly reccommend her book-so far its very good.

Tip-toe through the daisies

It’s cold here.

So then, I close my eyes

and I imagine things.

I imagine that I

can tip-toe through the daisies

which lie buried under deep snow

I imagine them bloom, and-

then I imagine them grow

into a sea

of devastation

a sea of utter raw beauty-

you would agree,

if you could just, only close your eyes

and tip-toe through the daisies-

C’mon old man winter,

I am ready for you to stop following me.

I am ready for a sea full of daisies

and the beauty they may bring

a rarity called

Spring.

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Michigan Snow

moshi in snow winter 13                                 Michigan Snow

The snow knows

where it wants to go.

Here in Michigan we are getting,

oh so weary of the Michigan Snow.

It is dreary, it blankets us completely, even my dogs

get tired of this mess. This has been sincerely,

one of our worst winters in recent history.

A year ago, there was barely any and we were spoiled

like small children-we thought nothing about the

snow of Winters past. We had forgotten about the bad driving, or getting your car stuck in the snow-

in your very own driveway!! We did not see this arctic blast coming down upon us.

We never thought, we did not ask, we only assumed-

that this year would be like the last.

We were so wrong. And now I feel blue, from all this-Michigan snow.

I am so sick of it. Not to mention the dog in the photo, he is my 11 year old

Shiba Inu. He’s sick of it too-sometimes it comes up to his chest.

We are from Michigan, born and breed. We should expect this stuff,

yet it was unexpected for many. In fact, it blew us away.

All this Michigander Snow, in and out- every single day!

 

Today

Today my words don’t come out.

Today silence is all I am about.

My thoughts may scream or

sometimes even shout…

but just for Today that’s not what I am about.

Cold and chilled to the bone.

Icy stone reflections upon

a broken ridged frozen ground-

and when the snow comes softly-

when the snow comes softly

when the snow comes slowly

it never makes a sound.

Collecting itself into white velvet icy tapestry,

beneath its dusty fragile-ness that is a strength that lasts.

It tears us through months of Winter

and winds that howl

winds that blast.

But no more words do I have here-

there is nothing left to say

except tread lightly and admire the silence

of fallen snow

which stole my words Today.

The cycle of Life

The cycle of Life

is  such that we all Live but someday

we all die too.

I am making it sounds so simplistic-

yet nothing could be farther than true.

The cycle of our Lives is in constant motion.

Ever changing, ever growing, nothing in fact

ever stays exactly the same.

Each day we are living, we must strive

to remind ourselves to enjoy

this journey we are on

for time stops for no one.

Sometimes simple truths are the best,

Live each and everyday

to its fullest; ignore the rest.

The cycle of life is a curious thing.

Nobody has a map to bring, nor directions,

if we falter.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to live in

the Here and Now, but exactly what is our

choice or option? To dwell in the distortions of our past,

or to linger in the unknown ever unfolding future,

Or merely breathe in

breathe out

and enjoy these moments of Life rooted in the present,

before time runs out and

Regrets loom large?

Nobody knows the pathway of mortality,

we are born, we live and then someday we will die.

I do not have any wisdom, nor answers,

I cannot explain why.

I just accept this to be a universal truth.

Appreciate the moments of Today for tomorrow

is not promised and the past we cannot change

the key is to living Life to the fullest

in each moment that you can claim.

It’s just the Cycle of Life.