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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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.

New Release Finally Available….Artist Chapbook!

My final and second Volume of My Artist Chapbook has just been released on the kindle today.
It is part of the “Art, Art, Art!!! Before Words.” Series, it is the second and final Volume.
To purchase a kindle copy please go here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00J1QNLYQ

It should also be available as a paperback, soon, I expect in the next few days.

Upcoming Sale on Kindle Starts Tomorrow…Lavender Surprise

Starting tomorrow at 8:00 AM PST, my kindle e-book “Lavender Surprise.” will go on sale being reduced from it’s original price to a mere 99 cents.This is a direct link:http://www.amazon.com/Lavender-Surprise-Emily-Sturgill-ebook/dp/B00BT4QBDG/ref=la_B00B1GC5LY_1_11_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1384630698&sr=1-1

Lavender Surprise
A chapbook containing both poetry and artwork by the Poet/Artist/Author. The poems are in a vein of surrealistic poetry. There is both color and black and white artworks. It is roughly 35 pages long. It is the Author’s seventh chapbook this year. (2013)

Nature’s Envy

Surrealistic poetry written yesterday Sunday 11/10/13

Nature’s Envy-by emily H. Sturgill

Anxious Hornet,

is a Bear-toned, talent,

of a Dali-colored Moon-Rise.

 

Anxious Hornet,

dancing into a firelit

campsite.

 

wrestling with Bears~

causes,

bruises to form-

upon the chapped lips,

which surround

my lovely body-into the form,

of Anxiety.

 

Into the shape of

a hornet’s nest,

repeatedly & randomly

stinging me.

 

The brutality of Nature:

the curse of Vengeance lies, behind,

the tides

beneath-

A Dali-colored Moon-rise.

New Facebook page for Sex in the kitchen Sink

https://www.facebook.com/sexinthekitchensink13?ref=hl

Follow me on facebook please!Picture 149 Warming up with color abstract 2 Fall 2013 Spirals of Song and other poems book cover1 Picture 161 Warming up with color abstract 1 Fall 2013 Abstract oil pastel drawing 99 cover design for words whirl 2013 copy Falling to pieces by EHCato 1999 IMAG0893 IMAG0898 IMAG0897 Art before words new front cover copy back cover art before words3 copy self portrait 05012013 Picture 94 Acrylic mixed media pumice gel painting 1996 canvasboard Spirituality, acrylic and sand on canvasboard 1996 possible coverart1 copy Athena wiccan11 IMG_20130330_093258

Simplicity part 2-dedicated to my friend Erin D.

Picture 161Picture 158Picture 160

Simplicity

2 parts bitter-sweet vinegar

2 parts harmony

one dash of Hope

one sprinkling of Faith,

one Tablespoon full of miracles.

1/2 stick of helplessness melted but not burnt brown.

1/4 cup memories

16 oz of pure, unstrained Love

1 graham pie crust of sorrows

1 can of heavy-whipping cream

2 tbs allspice, 2 tbs cloves, 4 tbs fresh honesty

one classic ceasar salad of velvet covered sadness

one case of dark irish beer…

blend with one bag of Catholic Guilt,

add two whole egg-yolks

add 7 hail-marys and one quart of confessions.

Blend with a twist of hard scotch whiskey, empathy as a orange peel, a cherry

with-out its stem, some liquid courage, one King James version of

The Holy Bible.

Some false idols/some fake friends/those who will swear by you/

yet they disappear in the end?

I trust nobody who says to me, that they will “pray for me,”

I wish i were not a bitch like that, but i totally am-such a bitch.

I am not going to offend them by declining their pray offers-

but i am not going to depend on them for this junk.

I usually merely responded with Thank you-or thank you very much-whatever.

Prayers are both sweet and nice-

if they are done right.

But true friends do more than have private jesus jams/

talks on your behalf.

True friends know when you are sad, And sense when you need to have a small

phone-call chat. true friends listen and practice the,

Fine Art of Allowance-

meaning they allow you to be sad.

They do not try to cram you into a shoebox

with too much duct tape,

and scrawl the word “Happy”

onto your head-in order to make themselves feel better.

Real friends want you to feel better,

but when you get around to it.

Real friends allow you,

to simply FEEL.

They allow you to be-

They allow you to grieve and to suffer.

They realize there is no universal time clock on

one feeling verses another.

I wrote this out for a friend of mine.

Her mane is Erin-we kinda grew up together.

Anyways, her mother just recently passed away due to Cancer,

this past march on st.patricks day.

Erin and her twin Bridget are both my friends.

I did not realize how huge their family is until very recently,

Anyways yesterday, Erin was having a bad day,

and she shared with her fb friends she really missed her mother.

I was completely floored with all the useless facebook comment messages

she was getting. There were just so fake to me.

So i commented myself-and i was not trying to impress facebook-or Erin or anybody else.

I just wished to say something that could comfort Erin and be

totally completely “real” and “honest” with her.

I was just being me, I was just being emily.

She wrote me later, in a private facebook message, Thank you so much , you knew just how I was feeling and how much my messages helped her.

That really made my evening last night.

It is a good feeling to be a good friend to somebody you forever care for,

cherish and sisterly love.

True friendships among women are not always,

easy to find or to maintain.

But once I’ve formed a friendship bond-

with another female- I keep those friends

out and treasure them immensely.

It really takes a whole pile of damages for me,

to no longer consider a woman my friend.

Once a friend, always a friend, at least that is where

my loyalties take me. So many beautiful feminine friends:

Each is like a precious gem or a secret treasure to me.

I LOVE my friends-all of them.

even the cob-webbed covered ancient ones,

those are kind of crunchy

but i just love them all the more-for it!!!!

Running on E

Running on E,

Empty, my thoughts have

decided to run away,

they flee free me.

 

Running on E,

I let the empty get the best 

of Me. I reach out-

towards the empty sky,

not a cloud in sight.

 

Running on E,

Grabbing outwards for the 

poetry. To take a hold of Me.

But too much everything equates

a void.

 

Running on E,

but I digress.

Where did I misplace the Lioness?

Where did I misplace the Poetess?

 

Running on E,

nothing comes very easy.

The thoughts all roll right out of my brain,

catching like embers burning into fire,

as the free-verse falls down.

 

Running on E,

a hapless clown.

How to quench this thirst,

of creating something out of

nothing?

 

Running on E,

it leaves me screaming-

so loud- my lips leave no sound.

The words all blocked up,

a corked up wine bottle.

 

Running on E,

the empty sound of silence,

What is left to say?

Where do the poem-words take you,

Anyway?

 

Empty, Empty, Empty,

and then like Humpty Dupty,

We All fall down.

Falling down again.

With a crash.

Something broken

She cannot put a finger

on why, but there is something there

deep inside

broken and rusted

despite being encased in honey

and a touch of lovely

love.

She knows that the two parts must connect

come together and securely fit

in a mechanical motion

to produce an organic product

1/2 of her and 1/2 of him

that’s all the recipe calls for

and yet she cannot put her finger on it.

The two come as one well-maintained machine,

but nothing is ever produced or created.

She does not know why,

simply feels the bareness

on the inside

longing to know why she cannot fix

the broken pieces deep inside

and she just feels

a touch of something kinda, something that is, something where the;

sadness grows.