how to spell crazy

how to spell crazy~

all different words…
i spent a lifetime
to enjoy
to regret
to repent.

as if reading too much
or writing too much
were both sins,

i could never

and as if,
technology were something
I would never touch.

Words Walk

words walk~
emily sturgill

i am shaking

smooth, smooth, smooth

i walk the walk.
i talk the talk.

my lips are on fire
burning from cliches.

sentences, words, tumble

I am tripping, tripping, tripping
in a daze.

i am shaking

smooth, smooth, smooth


form between
the line in my brow,
as I
take a deep breath
in and wonder why?

I try so hard
to understand how to,
how do I?

Connect all these dots
Or even try?

Connections form
between the gleam, between my
two big brown eyes…
Connections form as
neurons spark, fire-cracker style go up-

wickedly surreal
the untold story of the brain.

All these connections vary,
from person to person
yet still they remain
basically the same.

Resulting in countless connections
between the different pathways
of our mind

leading to
thought creation
and hesitation

and even Art itself.

It all begins with
a random game of

all you must do:
is connect all of the dots

around you.

Monday Madness

Monday Madness-4/21/14

Sorrow tastes
like too many cigarettes
ash and bitterness.
Sadness eats a dessert of

Depression lingers
like unpainted
brush strokes
onto the canvas
of my inner mind.

It feels like:
running backwards,
up a hill-
or standing
complete and utterly
very still-
(going nowhere fast.)

Or this:
It feels like sinking
into quicksand
in the middle of a
snake pit.

Sorrow tastes
like too many cigarettes
ash and bitterness.
Sadness eats a dessert of

Stumbling Blocks

Stumbling blocks-4/21/14

Writers block
Artist Block
my imagination is clogged,
and I need some help.

I need a push.
I need a shove-
to get all

of the blockages

I wanna be-
like the stream.

I wanna be-
flowing rich in purpose
instead of

Lost in thought.

Writers block.
Artists block.

I need a push.
I need a shove-
to get it all out.

Kindle FREE promo days: going on RIGHT NOW!

possible coverart1 copy “Once I was the Rain.” is currently on FREE kindle promotional download now until 2/16/14. Get your free copy by clicking on the link above.

Also my 4th Edition and re-release on my personal memoirs,”Memoirs recalled madness: a personal account of living with manic depressive illness is also currently on FREE KINDLE download also until 2/16/14.

new coverart memoirs recalled Madness noTo get your FREE copy go to this link here:


Another book review: ebook “Moon Stream: poetry and art chapbook.”

4.0 out of 5 stars hungry for more, February 14, 2014
Amazon Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
This review is from: Moon Stream: A Chapbook of Poems and Art (Kindle Edition)
Buying this was a leap of faith for me. As somebody on a limited income, (I’m on disability)-I rarely pay this much for an e-book-$5.99. Despite being only 26 pages, it looked intriguing, so I thought I’d risk it. Ms. Gignoux is a real knockout as a poet. She is very talented. Her art was a nice touch. While, I do not regret buying this item, I really was hungry for more-both poetry and art-and I guess that is a compliment to her mind-blowing talent that she creates a world of poetry in such a short collection that leaves the reader wanting more.The only reason I am giving this 4 stars instead of 5 is because I feel she could have gone a bit longer. Also, I feel pretty strongly that if you include the word “Art” in your title you should have more than 3 pieces of artwork.But that comes back to my own personal standards because I also publish Artist and Poetry chapbooks on kindle as well. The art she did use was very beautiful but once again I say: this book leaves you hungry for more, more , more!! Despite that I did enjoy her book-I devoured it whole in one sitting.I will most likely re-read it from time to time it made a nice addition to my kindle library.

New release is now Available

It is called “Words Whirl: Poetry and Artwork.” by Emily Sturgill. As promised the kindle price is reduced to just $3.99.

The paperback version should be available soon-by tomorrow or the next day.

Most of the content will be new to you, but I did include some of my more popular poems off this blog:

Marriage Remains Undefined

In the Comfort of Cats

Angelic and An Extraordinary Day.

I am also trying to re-do my Authors Website. I’m still hemming and hawing all over it.

I posted new and upcoming free kindle promos day from the end of August- the middle of Oct, 2013.

I would love some feedback. If anybody feels like checking it out and leaving me their opinions or suggestions please feel free to comment here.

Thank you, Emily



Hypergraphia disturbs me,

I think I maybe?

write too much…too often…like I cannot,

control myself…

Here is a definition if you are unaware of the term.

Sometimes, I just cannot stop writing

and it does not mean that I have

anything useful or important to say,

it is not creativity, at least not in a meaningful way.

I simply spew words at my blog or my journal,

or where-ever. I feel a bit guilty for this-this empty pleasure.

Like covering a toilet stall with useless graffiti.

the urge to write comes over me,

quite hysterical. It’s like trying to hold your breath and it’s that moment-

where you cannot hold your breath any longer and you are

gasping for air? It’s kinda like that moment except instead of gasping

for air- I am spilling words out and I cannot keep them in any longer.

I try to contain them in a mason jar

only to find that the words have escaped-

fire-fly style.

I try to catch them before they spring loose from my

quick typing hand

but tiger-like, they pounce again.

I’m a poetry addict….I do not think

that there is even a 12 step program for that

or a plush comfty re-hab, I could check into-

to keep my thoughts from running rampant

straight into you,

yes, you reading this.

and I am sorry,

but I do not know how to stop writing-

it’s one of my most treasured addictions.

waiting on a healing groove

waiting on

the bus to come by, on time.

waiting for a short stop-

the moment to yank the string.

the destination which develops me,

like an old black and white photograph,

of who i used to be.


Waiting on a healing groove.

waiting on an Angel’s song.

waiting for the Buddhist monk, to finish chanting.

watching the Muslim praying at Sundown.

Searching for God or My Goddess,

beneath the olive tree.


Religion divides too many of us.

Ripped apart to pieces and yet,

the soul stills knows where to go.


waiting on a healing groove.

waiting for illness to depart,

willing for it to leave my lingering heart.


Wanting to be more whole,

then being torn apart.

watching the world from a safe distance,

as it argues among itself,

as war breaks out,

as poverty reigns- sometimes there is so

much sorrow….

so much pain,

I begin to feel hollow-



as a slender reed

like an empty Egyptian


my words themselves begin to bleed.


Like an outpouring of

random graffiti, i make the Tag-yet

even I do not know-what the Hell I am saying.

Just waiting…

on the healing groove.