going gray

go swiftly into

the darkened night

my beautiful gray russian blue

go swiftly into a rainbow bridge

I will stroke your fur one last time

as I cry these horrible teardrops

which feel heavy salty with bitter regrets.

go swiftly into darkened night

go gray beautiful sweet kitty

i will always remember our 16 years

together as owner and friend

go swiftly and silently to sleep

closing those emerald eyes one last time

but before you go always know

I have loved you long and well

I will miss you so.

Rest in peace my gray ghost Godzilla.

2000-2016

 

lost

lost-10/24/15

feeling lost

little small achey

hurt in a healing heart

feeling small

with hidden jewels of happiness

but i cannot find them all

i am lost

at a loss for words

a word like hope

feels too big for me.

there is a ache in my heart

an emptiness in my chest

a sadness in my soul.

sometimes losing hurts so much

you can forget what winning feels like.

the world gives us both

so much to lose

but so much to win.

i feel lost.

its temporary and i know

that I will find what I am looking for.

The Weeping Widow

The weeping widow-12/31/14

Emily Sturgill

The Weeping Widow

She always is in a state of

emotional disarray, turmoil, nothing

can change or stop this

it never goes away.

The Weeping Widow

She is often at her wits end,

constantly in mourning

grieving each and every lost

relative or friend.

The Weeping Widow

relives each death like a cassette

tape on the rewind.

It is the only thing she focuses

on, her mourning, their deaths, her pain.

I watch her go through these moments

almost daily.

It’s obvious to me, she clearly needs

therapy, yet she refuses to go.

I am so unsure why Death

has such a huge hold on her,

but it does and she will not let it go.

It seems like everyday on our calendar is

a reminder-to her-of the death of someone

She once loved and lost,

she turns to me

confides in me

constantly

but I am unable to bear this burden

her cross

her loss.

I cannot replace who is missing-

all  I can do is offer to listen.

And then there comes this sharp ended

point where I cannot hear it anymore.

 

The Weeping Widow

relives each death like a cassette

tape on the rewind.

It is the only thing she focuses

on, her mourning, their deaths, her pain.

I watch her go through these moments

almost daily.

 

 

Cold Coffee

Cold Coffee-5/23/14

Coffee’s getting cold.
As I sit here,
thinking
Bold…
Color combinations upon
a broken painter’s palette.

Coffee’s getting cold.
As I sit here,
feeling old…
nothing is so fleeting
as Life is Stealing
years and years from Us All,

beginning each and everyday
the thief of time
steals of years away.

but I regress…
Coffee’s getting cold.
Black liquid velvet dripping
into a cup, a cup that holds
love.

This coffee cup
from which I sip
once belong to my long-dead
Mother.

I treasure it because
it was once hers.

But Coffee’s getting cold,
as I just sit here
thinking
drinking black coffee
thinking my life away

piece by piece
word by word
poem by poem

a whisper in
the wind
lies unheard.

but…

Coffee’s getting cold.

My Mama when she was young

My Mama when she was young

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 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.

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!!!!

Summer Seldom

The randomness of Summer,

as it starts off with a Solstice.

The heat is justified as is the fly buzzing on my wall.

The grass needs cut it’s getting tall.

 

Sad to think of all the family summer

picnics we’ve missed, since he’s been gone.

The life of every party, the story-teller, the joke-maker.

It rings hollow now that he’s passed.

It has been over seven years now.

 

I like to miss him in the Summer,

that’s when his Birthday was-he was a Leo.

My husband wants to celebrate his Father’s life.

Gather his siblings and go fishing in their Dad’s memory.

somehow this has yet to occur.

 

Others are busy, mourning in their own quiet ways.

To celebrate a life well-lived and well-loved…

I feel my husband is right, that this is the correct way

to fondly remember loved ones lost.

 

There’s so much I cannot say…

I miss him too very much in my own simple way.

After his death, I began drinking my coffee black,

like he used to do. My Mother who also passed 13 years ago,

she took her coffee black as well.

So really it is a small daily tribute to the both of them.

 

I have a strange way with grief.

I feel as if they are still among us somehow,

whether deep in our hearts

or deep in our minds as a memory,

or something more…

 

Almost a presence watching over us-

in a comforting way.

They never seem completely gone.

Although physically, they are no longer here.

There will always be stories, memories and moments

we have shared.

 

Summer seldom.

I remember my Mama as she

walked barefoot through her

backyard garden, coffee cup in one hand,

the other to point out earthy delights-

a twinkle in her eyes

 

as she laughed.

Summer moments.

Seldom yet true.

Made of up of the magic

of missing you.

Daily Reminders

The Glorious daffodils, and daisies-

the tulips and irises of days passed.

Recalling the Springtime of the Yesterdays-

before the valley of your death.

Sometimes, I feel so lost in the memories.

I can almost hear your laughter-still ringing in my ears.

It was laughter of the joyous sort,

You would always be filled with jokes,

and laugh along beside us.

There were of course the bad times too.

But that is not how-I choose to remember you.

I am forever fond of your big heart.

It is a fitting tribute that the perennials,

which you planted-

each year they keep coming back.

I still miss you, but it is a bit less-

when I see all the wonders you’ve left us,

you did

your very best.