Spring brings blooms

Spring brings blooms

tulips opening slowly

into bursts of bubbling colors

Spring brings bold once barren landscapes

into bright beautiful blossoms of color

hues of pastels shades of baby blue and greens

everything unfolds freely into the warm wind.

Spring brings blooms

the flowers they whisper as they peek out

from tightly wrapped buds

even the grass changes from brown back to green.

The change of seasons is dramatic

the rebirth of earth and plants hang upon

a restless daydream.

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When my world came crashing down on me

When my world came crashing down on me-

When my world fell down about my knees

and shards of broken glass were everywhere to be seen

when all hope was lost and darkness fell

somebody reached out towards me in the midst of my mess

my living turmoil of troubles.

They reached their hand into the deep waters and dragged me

to shore. They saved a dying drowning girl who was tattered in ruins and

in love with the Storm.

When my world came crashing down on me-

When the cities were full of burning buildings

and smoke filled my lungs when there were no heroes in site

and nobody to be counted on

this lone man appeared to save me

just randomly

out of the blue

out of the internet

a complete and utter stranger

but somehow I just knew,

to trust him. And so I did and so it began.

a strange sort of friendship with a stranger from a far away land.

And now when I sleep

I only have dreams of really meeting him.

I have dreams of Starlight and of September.

I have dreams of long travels and hopeful

that I can only get my broken compass to work.

I hope that when I am searching my map its the same one he sees.

I hope if I were to dare to take a journey

he would find me.

Sad Song to an Old Dog…

Sad song

to an old dog…

You are getting older

slower, sleeping more, you seem

to be hiding from us more often.

i wish you could speak with words

instead of flowing furry feelings,

such sad eyes.

Are you old friend in pain?

Will we know when that time comes?

Will we know when saying goodbye to you,

is the most necessary and humane thing to do?

How will I be able to tell?

When you do not walk so well?

When you stop eating or drinking?

When you stop dreaming?

Will we know when the time comes to put you down?

Will we know when it is best for you, to visit, that fabled “Rainbow Bridge.”??

How do we know when it is best for us to let you go?

A sad sad song for an old mighty dog.

I cannot help but selfish wish,this choice comes later, rather than sooner.

We still love you so very much.

Your a part of Us.

You still eat your treats, wag your tail, jump up to greet us,

still long to play or have a pet between your ears.

So afraid to let go of you before your time.

We never want to hurt you-or desert you.

I hope that day comes later rather than sooner.

I am still not ready for that final goodbye. 

You still have that twinkle in your eye. That smile upon your lips.

A good friend, the best kind.

oh, gosh how will we ever know, when that time comes

to say one last goodbye?

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Autumn slides in

As Summer slips away

from frayed sunburned fingers

and children at play-

the weather starts to crumble

and Autumn slides in.

 

As Summer slips away,

the nights get colder

the wind gets bolder

the light begins to dim at dusk

when suddenly,

Autumn slides in.

 

As Summer slips away,

swimsuits get traded for sweaters

green leaves begin to spin

into gold, bronze, and red

as Autumn slides in.

 

As Summer slips away,

the thermostat gets switched from off

to on, blankets cover the bedsheets

and feeling a chill

we watch the sky just as

Autumn slides in.

 

Autumn slides in

to home plate as spectators all

begin the yearly cheer

Autumn slides in,

bringing us home again.

The Firecracker

The Firecracker-10/02/14

Thursday 1:51pm EST

The clock stands still

at 2 O’Clock.

I feel the crispness of the Fan.

As I silently wait for her.

The one who buys groceries,

in her sixty-ish skin,

fraile yet forever,

frisky.

 

She’ll carry all of them,

in by herself-

if I don’t wait to greet her.

 

Her-She-She is,

the One

with Ab-fib,

history of heart attacks, high blood pressure,

diabetes type 2 and even more…

 

But despite all of that,

She’s a Spitfire.

Do not Ever,

underestimate her.

 

She’s stubborn,

like a shotgun.

She is solid like granite,

although she bears a few

cracks.

 

The clock stands still

at 2 O’Clock.

I feel the cool crispness

of the Fan.

 

And I plan

to remain here,

sitting silently

waiting,

 

for my husband’s Mother,

to come bursting through

the front door

like a firecracker.

 

(sidenote: just 2 hrs after I wrote this poem, I caught her outside attempting to mow our lawn. I yelled to her She shouldn’t do that that She knows she is not supposed too. Ignoring me, She did the 1/3 of the backyard she could manage and came inside for a nap. When I complained to my husband he just laughed at me….)

Ode to Red

Ode to Red-

the color of passion
the color of heat
the color of paint on my
bedroom walls.

the color of Apples
the color of lipstick
the color of pain.

the color of new womanhood
the color of nail polish
the color of the fastest car
on the block.

Red is the color
of Anger
of Vanity
of Love
of Lust
of Sex

and all the rest.
love

Red is
the color of a new day
beginning to dawning.

Red is the color
of rubies
of jewels
of revenge
of Power

of kissing

but most of all,
Red is the color of
my beating heart
whenever it is missing
You.

Red is the color of Birth.
and Red is:

the color of passion
the color of heat
the color of paint on my
bedroom walls.

the color of Apples
the color of lipstick
the color of pain.

the color of new womanhood
the color of nail polish
the color of the fastest car
on the block.

but most of all,
Red is the color of
my beating heart
whenever it is missing
You.

Red is the color of Birth.
Each day that we awaken,
we are born anew.
we are struggling
with only
the re-birthing process

like caterpillar to butterfly
Each day we change and become
something re-born, something mighty, something
as large and lonely
as Hope.

Each day we shed our sins
we shed our snakeskins
and begin again with the coming
Dawn

and the color Red.

but most of all,
Red is the color of
my beating heart
whenever it is missing
You.

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.

Five hours later…

Five hours later…
and my ugly mood passes
like the breeze
of a windy day
the bad mood simply lifts
then passes away…

five hours later…
and all I can say
is the chirping of birds
does not bother
my annoyance has swayed.

five hours later…
and I decide
not to ruin, the rest of my day.
Days they are
so very short
it seems

so very useless
to waste them away
with headaches and apathy.

five hours later…
my husband/ lover will come
back home to me soon.

bringing me smiles and wearing
my heart as a prize onto his sleeve.

Perfection is Nobody,
and I cannot attain a perfect
happiness everyday
yet I can self-reflect

and appreciate all the gifts,
that I got. And be happy that
I have Love in my Life
because for some that simply
is out of reach.

Why feel misery when there
is a cool thoughtful breeze
passing through the air

and a clearing of consciousness
to the evaporated thoughts
that brought me back
to here.

Moodiness passes…
Five hours later
and I am looking forward
to family time,
cuddling my sweetheart
and watching tv.

Five hours later,
the winds have shifted
I am feeling a bit free.

The Clock

The Clock-5/16/14
Emily Sturgill

The hum of the fan
the tick-tock of the
hand

as minutes fly by,
into hours
in the blink
of an eye.

then the entire world,
it floats
it floats on by…

The hum hum hum
of the fan
and
the tick-tick-tick
of the clock.

minutes feel like
a life-time
ago.

just try to tune
into the quiet
though,

before it passes
you by.

Help Wanted: Poets please apply…

I am just tumbling the idea of a collection of poetry of some of my own poems, but also publishing some poetry of some of my http://www.wordpress.com friends. I am unsure of how to go about doing such an anthology? Especially as far as earning any profits…To be fair, I am not looking to cash in on anybody elses’s talents. Instead I like the idea of several of us poets coming together and creating a self published anthology of poetry MORE for self-expression and Self-exposure, publicity if you will….It’s just an idea in the rough.

But I am thinking maybe X amount of poets & 3 poems each + a short auto-bio of each poet and links to other published works or links to poets blog or website…

If this idea appeals to anybody please send me a sample poem and an email introduction to:
sexinthekitchensex@hotmail.com

If I edited this type of book for kindle I would probably price it very low like .99 cents for the ebook.
I’m not too sure if this even interests anybody? But I know some of the poets i follow here have yet to be published. Perhaps being included in an anthology would give them the well needed push to self publish their own stuff.

My proposals is simple-email me a single poem and the first 20 poet’s poems I receive will be asked to be part of this collection. Deadline is whenever I receive 20 entry emails or let’s say the Summer Solstice June 21st Midnight EST. If you are selected-via-I receive 20 poems-I will email those poets ASAP and you will need to submit just 2 more poems and a short auto-bio poet statement.

Well then, let see if there are any fishes biting? Let the Games begin!!