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 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.

The sounds of Sleep

He is sleeping

with him he is carrying

the sounds of Sleep.

 

There is a song to his

sonorous sonnet of snoring.

It is calming to listen to it.

 

He is sleeping

deep and wide,

I imagine he is dreaming

but he rarely shares these to me.

 

Like most my dreamer usually

does not recall his dreams.

I like to hear his snoring

years ago it once bothered me.

 

But now I find it precious,

that the man I love so much

is peacefully getting his

much needed rest.

 

It is relaxing to hear,

his breathing reminds me

of oceans breaking upon the shore.

It is a soothing sound, calming and gentle.

 

The sounds of him sleeping

remind me how lucky I am

to have this man I love

with me still here.

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)

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!!!!

The Stranger in my Mirror.

Picture 149      Sometimes Shocking to see,

the Stranger in my Mirror, who looks like Me. I recall younger days, thinner versions,

Once upon a time, I was most likely,

just as cocky as Miley-

just not as famous.

What do you do? Once you lose that smooth small stomach,

the perky C bra breasts, the stride in your step, the seduction upon your hips,

the fullness of your lips, when the age of youth disappears,

and you become a M’mam instead of a Miss?

When you look into the mirror, and a stranger sits?

Glaring back at you, dimly-reminding you faintly,

that beauty lies in the beholder-instead of the girth of your thighs.

I am blessed to look many years younger-than I really am.

It’s a trick of my Mothers gene pool.

Wrinkles and gray hair do not scare me-no way-anyway.

I really do not mind.

But sometimes, I look at the Stranger in my Mirror-

and can’t help but think,

I am rocking middle age, despite my Venus Size.

I can still feel beautiful even when there is,

a media war, a rampage of BMI’s, a negativity upon

the average woman who is judged to be

“Plus-sized.” I can still feel my beauty, when my husband

looks at me that way, he once did all those years ago,

into the land of yesterday.

 

An afternoon Haze

Mid afternoon, half past lunch.

I sit sweetly here,

pondering Us.

 

How we came to past?

This gift of a marriage, based on mutual trust.

All the blessings,

I somehow, in some small way,

take for granted almost everyday.

 

Your smile-which I Love.

The way your hand fits snugly into my own-

a perfect fit, just right.

 

Enough food to Eat.

A big beautiful house and

all of our lovely fur-kids.

 

All These things I take for granted,

would be impossible, if it were not

for the luck of meeting and loving You.

 

You are my favorite companion,

I get lost in memories of all the many

happy times. We have had our ups and downs,

But I always make my way, back home to You.

 

Music Lifts me up

Music Lifts me up,

when I am crashing downwards,

just hearing a favorite song or favorite singer-song-writer,

puts a smile on my heart,

and on  my face as well.

 

Music Lifts me up,

when times are tough.

Just the joy of listening

to a familiar and favorite tune-

is enough to help me-chase those blues away.

 

Music Lifts me up,

it is poetry for the soul.

It is something so sublime, shifting my

subconscious, into a nicer, softer place.

 

Sometimes, I like to sing along,

especially while i’m driving in my car,

or sitting in the car as my husband Deano Drives…

He likes the way I sing,

it is always a surprise that he approves of my singing.

He likes to sing along too.

 

Music Lifts me Up.

taking me places, i have never been before.

Carving out new memories,

like a long lost friend.

Music takes me everywhere,

 

I want to go, because

Music Lifts me up.