Misguided Angel

Misguided Angel

of Eternity, the singing soothes me.

a sweet sweet song

by the Cowboy Junkies.

It brings a rush of

old sweeten memories.

Stolen kisses

leather jacket, combat booted laced feet

drippingly dressed in all black

and clove cigarettes

we would smoke them

by the pack.

Driving around just sitting

in a blue broken down

ford escort.

Going to the big park

by where the real rich folks lived

to watch a smashing sunset.

young love so naive

innocence itself

it bleeds


from even the smallest

of imperfected memories.

i still cannot erase those

dimples of your smile

and the greenest eyes i ever

saw for quite a while.

Merry go round

Merry go round-

Spinning, faster, faster

a twirling metallic

merry go round

and when or where it


nobody knows.

Feeling caught.

Feeling trapped.

In the inner corner

of a blank page.

words left the station

so long ago

not much left to say.



silly nonsensical

rythmes to pass the



I just want


of this puking frenzy

of a Merry a go round.

My feet hit the grass lightly

linger upon pavement

making no sound.

feeling invisible-

like I did when I was

very little.

Just want off

of this



Merry go wheel.

Dia De Los Muertos~(Day of the Dead)

Dia De Los Muertos

This is one of my favorite holidays

A day to remember,

ancestors passed-the passage of time & the journey


I never learned of this holiday until

after I lost someone I loved

to the great beyond.

And, more have passed on since.

The whole idea of celebrating both Life

and Death, to recall the wonderful

memories, moments and personalities

of someone you loved,

and to honor them

with personal mementos, gifts -a alter

or shrine of the things they once enjoyed.

The entire concept is so amazing

and mystifying to me.

On this day, I often remember,

my mother, my husband’s father, my grandmother

and others I ‘ve lost

ashes to dust.

Strangely enough, I am happy on this day.

Because I try to celebrate the memories

and be thankful with much grace

that I had these wonderful Souls

touch my Life.

In Darkness there is Death,

But also we must remember, in Darkness there is also always light.

Happy Dia De Los Muertos.

Blessings and Peace for all Souls,

lost or otherwise, beneath us just out of reach.

my mom

my mom

Snapshot_20141101My Day of the Dead Tattoo-which I designed myself, back in 2006.

Cold Coffee

Cold Coffee-5/23/14

Coffee’s getting cold.
As I sit here,
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

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

I treasure it because
it was once hers.

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

piece by piece
word by word
poem by poem

a whisper in
the wind
lies unheard.


Coffee’s getting cold.

My Mama when she was young

My Mama when she was young

Simplicity part 2-dedicated to my friend Erin D.

Picture 161Picture 158Picture 160


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.

Being bipolar can really suck sometimes…U

The nature of the “crazy-beast” is that when you are crazy, or going crazy then you do not believe you are crazy.

I know that there is a cliche about that, but unlike most cliches, this one is definitely true.

I know first-hand, because I am “bipolar 1-with psychotic features” -although current groovy dr. just shortens it to being bipolar or having manic-depression. It is more than a label. It is an illness. But it is a treatable one.Not easy to have nor to treat, but it is possible, to live a semi-normal life while being bipolar.

I think i am one of the lucky ones. I was diagnosed roughly 21 years ago-in 1992. Since then, I have amassed a huge group of friends, family, and trusted allies. It is vital to staying well to have some sort of support-network, whether its friends, family, church, priest, rabbi, minister,siblings,spouses,employers ect. You need objective persons in your life who can look out for you when you are not objective. If your really bipolar-you will not always be 100% objective. It is the nature of the “crazy-beast.”

I just had a major break-through last night. I realized I have been having some sort of episode-hypomania or mixed-mania, with paranoia, for at least the last two weeks. I called my Dr this morning to confirm this-(my husband already did confirm though) and to just let her know- i was on the same page now. I knew I had been sick. I complimented her method of handling it. Unlike past doctors I had had at Community Mental health-she did not directly address this issue that i was “sick”. She is an excellent doctor, by the way. I first saw her back in 1998-2000. i stopped seeing her because i took advantage of her, during an episode to get her to prescribe me medications i had no attention of correctly taking. It was long ago i was only 26.

I decided to swallow 30 depakote and kill myself. It was dramatic and extreme.I really violated her trust in our relationship.But soon after i did that stupid stupid thing i began to change my mind…when my boyfriend-(now hubby)-got home from a midnights job i confessed everything and he rushed me to the nearest hospital, most likely saving my life. I was given charcoal and was in the ICU for four days straight. That was my first and last ever serious suicide attempt.

After that my doctor broke up with me- i don’t blame her at all for this. So i started going to Community Mental Health. I went on and off for years-the off parts were during episodes….

2 years ago, yesterday, i married my boyfriend of 11 years. My health insurance changed slightly. We had wrongly deduced if we were to get married i would lose my Medicare and Medicaid-so he put me on his Blue Cross Employee insurance. Now CMH refused to treat me saying they did not accept blue cross.

I called my old doctor. I was very persistent, and convincing. I explained I had grown up a lot since she last treated me. I ask if i could please be her patient again? She was hesitant, but willing to give me a second shot.That was almost 2 years ago. I am so thankful she said yes to being my doctor again. She is the best and my most favorite doctor I have ever had in the over two decades of this madness.

Fast forward to the past two weeks….I became very irritated, the day after ,the day after, my 39th birthday. So like 2 days after my birthday-may 21-i lost my shit. May 23rd was terrible, but May 24th and 25th were much worse.

I guess it was a hypo-mania-(mild mania) or a mixed state-(both depressed and manic mixed together.)

If my doctor confronted me about being paranoid or manic, I would have stopped speaking with her-probably even fired her as my doctor.

instead, she choose to just listen-after i found myself in a safe shelter house for women with domestic violence she started increasing my meds.

we did have a small mishap with that-she raised my lithium too high-while i did not go toxic-i had dangerous symptoms and had to be briefly hospital2ized over night. My lithium levels never been that high before-it was 1.25.So she lowered it back down to its normal dose. And just raised other meds.

Eventually, i decided to forgive my hubby and came home two nights ago. At first, i still thought i was in my right mind-but then my doctor wanted to raise my sereoquel XR some more. A couple hours later, i realized with her frequently raising my meds, i must be having another episode. I cried hysterically for over  2 hours while mu husband just held me and told me that he still loves me. i was devastated.I was confused but coming to my senses.

And i was safe, he was safe, we were still married-it was going to be ok. To be honest, i am even crying as i am writing this-I feel cheated somehow, but by my own mind…i do not understand how i could so quickly get sick again-without typical warning signs? It is a very scary feeling to be paranoid. Especially terrified of friends and family who love you. I thought it was all hubby’s fault. What i mistook as physical abuse was him trying to restrain me and keep me from running away-i always run away….usually nowhere safe or good. This time was a bit better- i wound up in a safe place.

All i can say is bipolar disorder is a serious illness and “crazyness is a beast.” which is difficult to contain.

Obsessive Personality Traits

I grew up with two mentally ill parents.

My mother was the Manic-Depressive,

but Darling Dad was the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder-Type.

I like to think I take after them both.

I like to think somewhat, I am nothing like either one of them,

at all.

I get most of my crazy from my Mommy,

that’s just how the chips were stacked against me.

Keeping this in mind, however, I do have

certain quirks or obsessive traits just like my Father.

One, fine fault, is I can never completely let go-of the past-of

MY very own past, and the people who once were important in it-

no matter how briefly.

It makes no sense to me,

perhaps it is my Artist side, to obsess to focus exclusively,

on past acquaintanceship, friendship, or romantic entanglements.

Sometimes, i feel as though I am under,

someone’s else’s spell,

some voodoo  monster-minotaur,

vulture, preacher,saint, and sinner-

Some damned Fool!!

Like the Start of Every Journey,

in the Tarot Deck begins with Zero,

and the Major Arcana  begins with The Fool.

a Fool’s journey-

from here to there,

no-place, nowhere and everywhere in between.

I get stuck in the soft even spaces,

in the corners of my

crumbling ruins of a

very lost mind.

I get stuck on notions of persons,

I once had knew…

and to me (well yes, because i am crazy) these memories, feel like mere moments ago,

although its been 20 years or more or less,

I cannot guess.

I try to do the easy math you add-

then subtract….

the people who stay with you for the long haul,

are the ones who matter most….

still there are times,

when i become,

haunted by ghosts,

of memories,

from so very long ago-

feeling an obsessive, excessive, amour

for a single stranger or two, who I once shared

an agape, platonic, type of friendship for…

nothing makes sense anymore.

I realize I am happily married….

but occasionally my mind torments itself-

with these useless haunting’s

of Ghosts they have simply refused to

vacant my premises, pack up their night bags, leave

my mind in tact,

and go away.

And, I feel it’s definitely all one-sided,

my own fault, for obsessing in this way-

for some strange Fool, who would now,

never stop to even give me-

the time of day.

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.