The Pathway of the Sun:

The Pathway of the Sun:

Morning arises slowly

as The pathway of the Sun

inches across the Sky,

leaving ribbons of colored streaks

which grow and expand

into a glorious blaze of Sunrise.

 

The pathway of the Sun:

Morning arises quickly

as people tumble out of

their beds, like crazed tumbleweeds.

Trying to fit into the suit

of each of their lives

as quickly as possible

to get to the places they must go to

as fast as humanly possible.

 

The pathway of the Sun:

Morning arises quietly

Nobody hears the color of light

yet it changes quite

rapidly

from a Sunrise

into Blue Skies with velvet white

frosted clouds.

 

The pathway of the Sun:

Morning dies down daily

as quick as it awakens, it breathes, it grows

into Sunshine filled days

exposed by Time & each time

the Sun fights back He only

manages to die down into

the colors of twilight and  He

gives in to the Epiphany of

Starlight.

 

The pathway of the Sun:

To rise and fall each day always,

until our time runs out.

Have you ever wondered?

What motivates the Sun,

so that he does not give up completely

and just burn out?

Autumn Announces itself…

Autumn Announces itself…

10/31/14 by Emily Sturgill

Autumn comes in slowly,

creeping temperatures dropping

in Michigan below 50.

The wind does yell.

The wind does howl.

Th chill fills the air

and my cat wants to go outside,

she begins to meow.

a pathetic sound,

a plea which will be

for tonight at least-

ignored.

Autumn Announces itself

in all its angry growls

and howls of a wind

so fierce that it fills my house.

With the thin crackle, crunching of

paper thin leaves

falling from trees.

Autumn in all her glory,

has arrived, as we settle in

by the fire

about to tell stories.

She is here,

Autumn announces herself.

It’s Halloween

It’s Halloween 10/31/14

Just a bit past 5:25

and the Wind awakens

with a voice that’s alive.

It howls, hollers, winds up to

40 miles per hour.

Setting the scene

for some Halloween screams.

My token black cat

leaves my side.

As the wind roars and hollers

like something alive.

A train sounds off

it’s blast in the distance

before twilight falls,

bringing demons, ghosts, ghouls,

and witches.

Stirring a cauldron of black pitch,

smoke from dry ice

candle lit jack o’lanterns

and some candy

but only if you are nice.

forShare (1) Happy Halloween Everyone!!!

Tire swing

Swaying in the breeze

swinging sometimes

in a tire swing.

Summertime memories,

are frozen in time.

Something akin to a snapshot,

of a childhood forgotten.

The wind in your hair.

A smile among freckles and a single moment,

where you did not care-

for anything more than the

Sun on your bare skin and

the feeling of freedom

in the wind.

Coffee-colored morning

Black coffee-colored morning

glory…listening to music.

I ponder the singular, the slight of hand, the parlor trick;

the impact of music on my morning mind.

 

Yet it is well past noon.

cloaked in a beat up nightgown,

and not much else,

wondering how…

to get my butt into gear again.

 

words hang like little

thought bubbles above my head

but if i try to catch them

they rupture instead.

 

The crisis of a blank page

staring back at me,

on a whim and dare.

 

I’m like a black-jack dealer

dealing out emotions instead of cards.

The slight in hand, poetry involves

in invoking an image or a mood

to entice the reader.

 

I try to take you along for the ride

in the spin-cycle of my dirty mind.

Some poems fall flat. Others, i can revive

with a bit of CPR if only I tried.

 

To breathe life into ?

words?

Poetry much like reason,

escapes me momentarily.

 

I sometimes find,

I say an awful lot about

nothing at all.

The Alligator of Alliteration

The Alligator of Alliteration
always eats poets first,
first and foremost,
elegantly eating everything
in sound or sight,
whichever comes first.

Slender slightly bloated
and bulging stomach stretched tight.
As the Animalistic hunger devours
complete works by the Masters.

Significant, serenades,sonnets
searching for the deeper meaning
between a reaming of so many
consonants,

Our fat Alligator is purely gleaming.
Fed on so much verse, full to the bone
of so many long lost souls,
once made merry-

by their odes, and symphonies of sound.
Literary greats make the tastiest treats,
for the Alligator of Alliteration.

Be ware, be wary, that he does not
catch you, writing Poetry!!!

Monster reading

An abstraction
dwells beneath
a mathematical fraction…3/4 of what,you never
knew before.

botany
interests me-remotely vaguely.
An artist bums blankets
sitting on his bicycle
in the snow.

Monster reading,
compulsive, obsessive,reading
used as an escape
from the everything of
Life which haunts you.

Monster Reading,
among velvet teardrops-
a pervert puzzle which rules
Hope.

Hope nurses doggie flowers,
into a pot of surrealistic flowers,
the room begins to spin,
lightly as you monitor,

where have I been?

puzzle purple stars
strung out above the snow;
there’s no-place to go.
Yet, off in the distance

a siren
songs
a love song,
about Spring.

the seasons will eventually change,
from cold and dreary,
to warm and muddy
An artist curls up onto a corner,
on display, wearing blankets
of gold and grey.

performance and street art,
carefully disguised
as homeless-insanity
but you never
can tell these days.

a cardboard sign reads
will work for food,
yet your car is sure to drive
on past.

Monster reading
among velvet teardrops,
a blackened page,
empty except for the story,

one day you will write it
all down the everything
the artist and his sign
the weather and it’s crazy cold crime,

the truth, the lies, the nitty-gritty,
the everything in between
you will take you favorite writing tool,
a pencil or a pen or a crayon

and you will start to write,
a perfect amazing story,
starting with the end,
moving backwards to fill in facts.

You will start with your last sentence,
which will go like this,
“Nobody knew, how very deeply loved he was till he was gone.
Washed up on the shore like an empty wine bottle. There was no
message left inside instead there was….”

The day the root canal never happened.

The day the root canal never happened.

It was a day unlike any other.

I was in pain, yet I was happy, because

I had called a helpline for persons with disabilities and/or

Low-incomes, for dental help.

I had set up an appointment for a dentist with

Reduced fees. They agreed over the phone to do the procedure,

At a reduced cost. I was scared but I had all my cash with me, to cover

The first part of the co-pay of the procedure.

But it was the day the root canal never happened.

When they saw, not only did I have limited coverage,

With my husband’s dental insurance, but that I also had

State Medicaid, they looked at me with greedy dollar signs in their eyes.

They did not want to help me, they wanted to soak me up, like a wet rag.

They pressured me to change dentists-which I did not want-and they took

Additional x-rays which I did not need, I had brought my own, AND then

They refused to do the procedure at all. They prescribed more antibiotics which I could not even take, and they told me I needed to talk to my worker because I had a “spend-down” Medicaid, that Medicaid

Would not pay for a root canal, but I had other insurance and was prepared to pay the co-pay AND they refused to help me at all. And the dental assistant said many mean things about my current dentist-did she think that by insulting my dentist who was always kind to me-that I would like them better???

Only five minutes in her dental chair, I was crying so bad, I could hardly breathe.

I think when I wrote on the paperwork, bipolar disorder, they misread that as “stupid, ignorant, easy to take advantage of.” They were wrong. I left there very, very ,very,upset but angry too.

I contacted somebody I knew from the agency that had the helpline and told her my story. I asked her to let the helpline know, because if they were mean to me, they would be that way to anybody else with a disability. 

waiting on the root canal

waiting, for tomorrows

root canal, like my fairy-godmother

is taking me to the fancy ball.

waiting for this pain

to stop, stupid tooth rot.

waiting for it to come

and be over, like some

fabulous winning prize

in the lottery-like i just hit pay dirt-

instead of all this stupid

mouth hurt.

and there’s really not

much else to say,

just nothing sums up

an endless sea of pain

swimming with the sharks

again.