Beneath the depths by Emily H. sturgill
written on sunday 11/10/13
Beneath the Depths-
off the deep end, the depth,
of a Dog.
a Jaded wish, golden green
Staring, down the barrel of
Trust, as a Daydream.
Drawing Pictures of Picasso’s Peace-Motion.
Cover me in Oceans,
as the birds form,
my Sister’s Staircase.
Covered in sea-shells and glistening
She escaped Michigan,
for the Sunrise of Florida,
and the promises of Eternal
Here in Michigan,
I will stay, staring down,
another Detroit Daydream.
I am sure many males of our species,
just would not understand,
but a lady’s gotta have her chocolate-
the darker the better,
this I know my husband completely misunderstands.
If it’s not labelled as “milk” it is not chocolate at all,
by his high standards.
i love the bitter-sweet way it rolls
around in my mouth,
the way it nasty-coats my teeth.
I’m down to my last two precious pieces.
No-cross that out and replace it with-one piece left.
Oh, hell i just ate that piece too,
what’s a girl to do?
It’s an Emergency!!! I’m running out of
bittersweet candy, chocolate made from gold.
Romantic bliss. Men go buy your Lady her favorite,
chocolate, the rewards will pay off double in the end!!
To seal the deal-buy her some roses too-just because,
to show her, how much she is loved.
A hurricane sits
upon these hips,
as he watches her
strip-tease in the wildest fashion.
A hurricane sits
upon her lips
as she gazes lovingly
at her man.
With the flip of her wrist
she can unleash thunderstorms
and chaos if she chooses.
Or she can reach in the dark
for his hand
and claim it as her own.
A woman like this
is not easy to love
nor easy to hate
She is a force of nature
Something to be reckoned with
sung to, calmed down, and
She is like a symphony
which starts out slow but then
has a thundering crescendo.
A man like that
who can charm her, surround her with
friendship love life and flowers.
He is the essence of courage-
just as she is the essence of a storm.
I’m stuck on the serene.
I am a fly caught by the sky of stars,
onto your cars dashboard’s glass-
beneath windshield wipers cast of silver.
the past is a postcard memory.
a momentary glismpe over my shoulder,
and a 35 cent postage stamp.
there is so much love here.
it covers me, endlessly.
until i breakout like an allergy.
feeling the rash of never belonging/nor…
being worthy of all the love
he sends to me.
I’m a broken down rabbit earred TV screen.
stuck on static and white noise.
i am broken into too many
to be fixed by your hi-fi definations.
I am the broken down pay-phone,
in the mental ward which only takes
quaters, and everybody is fresh out,
sadly giving me longing looks of too much pain.
I am the peeling paint job
on the oldest wooden house
abandoned ob our block
windows nailed shut
front door busted into
filled with the evils of crime, rodents of luck and opportunistic stray cats.
Tears fill my eyes, leaking out at the corners…
is the love i thought i knew,
the love i thought i had with you.
Did you ever really love me?
Are you even capable of that?
now, that i have escaped both your grasp,
and your liars heart…
i can listen to my inner voice inside
my head, warning me that you
are a very dangerous man indeed.
warning me to not fall for the pity-trap.
to close my ears while you say,please.please.please.
Listen, i will change.
and I guess in all this time;
to your credit, you did change
except its for the worst.
How did i fall for this?
Was i really so desperate,
for anybody to love me-that
i settled for you???
Somebody who loves to love,
and somebody who hates that which
he loves, as a vicious abusive-controlling
it hurts me deeply-
to realize now after 13 years,
i never knew the real you.
it was all stage lightening and fake drama.
you were always an actor,
playing a part,
yet also a wolf lunging for my heart.
You could paint a nice story
with words alone. My family adored you.
But they were without all the facts.
And i was too scared to tell them on you.
the emotional, mental abuse was more often
then the physical stuff.
Despite my Daddy telling me, “Do not ever let a man put his arms on you in anger.”
“Don’t ever let a man hit you.”
Despite these facts-i choose only to see your halo.
The one i gave to you.
If only i would have stared harder-
i would have seen it as broken, rusty
Life is messy too.
Not just Artwork, self-expression, painting, drawing,sculpture, photography…
writing for example is another messy art;
thinking of things like:
libel,copyrights,slander,plagiarists, tabloid-journalists,badly written poetry,poorly written novels…..writers block.
But Life, on the other hand is frequently a different landscape,
altogether, a big terrain of heavily soiled tears.
disappointments, family feuds, emotional problems,
irrational and faulty logic,
thrown upon you,
like a fistful of sand.
then there are those persons,
who bully,cheat and lie.
Yes, as the saying goes, no one said life was easy.
or if they did, clearly they were mistaken or
simply full of shit.
no, life is a messy place.
A child’s hand-prints on the door-frames,
dog-prints on the muddy kitchen floor,
lipstick on a collar,
a cat who shits outside its litter-box.
Changing an baby’s dirty diaper.
house-training a puppy-dog.
Telling somebody you love them but…
you do not like living with them anymore?
How do you even do that?
I don’t even know.
I passed the ball to my husband.
He is dreading the conversation he
must have with a family member later.
I would not want to bring the subject up my own self-
I’m chicken-little, I don’t want to see the sky fall
But Life is very messy.
if it wasn’t
i doubt i would love, living half as much.
I am trapped into,
a New Age Funk…
ever since I was only 15 years old.
I have the strangest sect of beliefs,
my thoughts on Religion is very polytheist-rather than atypical,
monotheism -despite being raised, “a good christian girl.”
Something inside me; melted and changed,
into beliefs of the ways of the old, the Ancients.
Superstitious views of three-folded ways,
Mysticism, Pagan, Wiccan, Zen-I get lost in theologies.
I married an Atheist.
Certain things seem so real to me,
yet others find them
so damn far out.
Karma, Reincarnation, Ghosts, Astral Projection,
Crystal Gazing, Candle Magick, Tarot Cards,
E.S.P. Strange dreams,de ja vu, other things which i care
not to even try to explain.
Sometimes, I just know stuff,
and some of its quite bizarre…
yet my intuition is composed entirely,
of mere hunches,
of things I somehow know or knew or thought i knew.
I’m trapped inside a New-Age Funk.
It’s not bad in here, just kinda surreal.
I’m almost 40 years old,
so at this point these beliefs are not going to alter,
or shift much.
Part of it is very comforting and reassuring.
But the other part, feels like I’m not living up to my
end of the bargin. There are gifts or talents I may or
may not even have, yet I refused to use them.
I let them sit on a dusty shelf,
right behind my outter-skin-layer
Not just one,
but 2 ghosts made out
of human vice.
I’ve been haunted,
by the second one for over a decade.
It’s the memory which lingers,
like a stain of lipstick
round the coffee cup chipped china.
The bluest eyes-or stormy sea-form green?
I cannot remember too vividly.
Probably, because your memory scorns me.
You were something other-worldly.
You were like a blast from my past,
that i do not recall having.
You were an enigma wrapped up in secrecy,
novel and random, with your apple slices,
You never meant,
to mark such a mark on me.
And I think you were quite accustomed,
to various woman falling
all over themselves
to fall in love with you
but no not me.
i looked into those soulful eyes,
and got a little lost in the stormy sea.
I did not sway, waiver or pray.
I did not fall all over myself-falling into
love or lust over you.
I did something far worse to you…
I ran, not even walked, I ran away RAN away-
from you from everything,
I just took off-
and you knew where-
I was headed for more looney bins, more psych units,
more doctors to cure me,
of all my pagan delusions,
and flights of fancy.
You knew the mistake i was in.
You knew the mess I had been.
You lived it before your own self.
You tried to warn, then beg, then plead,
I refused to listen, i think i just hung up on you.
Years later, I found you again-must have been 5 yrs later.
We met by accident in downtown Detroit.
You flirted, you blink your lovely eyelashes at me.
I never took for a moment the possibility
that you were being serious with me.
You were concerned, that I was wondering around homeless.
You tried to describe where you lived, but i was way too far out.
I should have went home with you.
But I did the easy thing, i ran away again.
I never did understand the strange connection we had.
I never will understand
why the memory of you,
somebody i barely,
still haunts me, to this day.
you were the original magick man.
even though you were the second one I ever met…
there was some way we
that made absolutely no sense to me.
If I did believe in things like
karma, love at first sight, soul mates
any of that-it would make me miss you even more.
but if you popped back into my life,
i would probably run fast
like my ass was on fire.
I did marry for love,
and I do love him, and we are very happy.
But somehow, i have never
completely gotten over you,
you left a thumbprint on my
heart-which later turned
a memory into