Paperbacks are available too!!!

For those of you who have enjoyed any of my free e-books or my e-books in general, they are also available on paperback from but also directly from Createspace creates paperbacks on demand. HERE is a link for most of my titles from the Createspace store:

More upcoming Kindle e-book Promotions: Free downloads

Starting Saturday August 9 through August 13, 2014 two of my poetry and artists chapbooks will be absolutely FREE to download. The first one is my first ever publication which was released in Jan 2013. It is called “Sex and the kitchen sink: poetry and art.” by Emily Sturgill, (2013) Here is a link:

The other Freebie, is my second E-book of poetry and artwork,it is part of a two part series called “The ravings and Rantings series.” The book is called,”On the Brink letters to the Madness+poems & pictures (Rantings & Ravings Book 1).” Here is a link:

Both books combine poetry and original artwork by me.If you take advantage of any of my free downloads-would you please consider submitting a short review? It only takes a few moments of your time, and it would be so helpful to me as both an artist and a poet! You can also review any e-book you download for FREE on allow and even encourage you to do that. The feedback is also very helpful to encourage new readers to download and perhaps even buy? some of my poetry and artists chapbooks. You may submit reviews by going back to the links above after you have downloaded any of my e-books. You may also submit reviews on my Author page at It is Thank you for reading this! I hope if you download any of my work that you do enjoy it. Thank you!!

By the way my other book, “Art!Art!Art! Before words.” by Emily Sturgill is still FREE until August 10th. Here is a link:

That one is primarily an Artist Chapbook. Thanks for taking the time to read this! Have a great and groovy day!

Promo Video,”In Exile from Maxwell Park: poems.”

My most recent poetry chapbook does contain a bit of photos and art but it is mostly just poems. I published it at the same day as the Anthology poetry project,”Help Wanted : poets please apply.” Edited by Emily Sturgill, 2014.

This recent work is called,”In exile from Maxwell park: poems.” by Emily Sturgill, 2014.
It is currently on FREE kindle download starting today and here is a brief video I just did to promote it on

this link beneath takes you directly to download it:

Promo Video: “In love with a word: poetry.” by Emily Sturgill.

above is the link for a promo video of my poetry chapbook,”In love with a word: poetry.” by Emily Sturgill,

2014. It is currently on FREE kindle download starting today.



by Emily Sturgill 6/24/14

that is the sum
of Us.

You pull me closer
just to push me away.

Or this, you pull me closer
and I am the one
to push you away.

Or this?

Do I pull you closer,
as you push me away?

It’s all semantics
this push/ pull game
that we both play.

Nobody is perfect.
And Nobody’s marriage is perfect
either, that one for sure
is true.

Everyday, as I taste my lips
the words I say to you
I love you

and you mirror
back to me,
i love you too…

but this push/ pull thing?

Why do we choose
to do the things we do?

And no, I don’t wanna
I don’t wanna
I don’t wanna…

fight and argue
with you.

for one thing
you do not fight fair.
you always fight dirty.

you spin, twist & turn
my words around
like a game of monopoly

you argue only to win,
when I fight with you-
its my attempt
to communicate with you.

in my opinion there are never
winners nor losers.
i want to get down to the middle
to the riddle of our

and settle the matter.
But you are too keen
on who wins or who loses/
and you are the most sore loser
I’ve ever seen.

why can’t we just agree
to disagree???

this pull/push thing
i hate feeling this way
it sure is a shitty
way to start my day.

If your in front of a door
and you push but nothing happens,
then you must compromise
and pull the door closer

just like me.

New poetry chapbook,”In Exile from Maxwell Park:poems.”

I just finished another Poetry chapbook today. It’s available off kindle for just $2.99.
It’s called,”In Exile from Maxwell Park: poems.” by Emily Sturgill, 2014. Maxwell Park was a place near where I grew up in the south side of Royal Oak, Mi.

I used to hang out there all the time. My high school was around the block from it. (until they destroyed and renovated my High School into a Middle School-a few years back.)

Anyways, if anybody is interested it is between 40-45 pages long.
HERE is a link:

HERE is a better link:

It has a splash of art and photos but it is mostly just poems.

My bipolar Muse

My bipolar Muse-
is that part of myself,
I seek to hide
from the prying mind.

My bipolar Muse-
is part of myself
to my inner core-

it is the trunk
from which
all else
branches, takes root, blooms
becomes fruit.

it is the part of myself
I try to keep on
a very short leash
never to be set free

unless all hell breaks loose
the correct terminology for that
is called,” a Manic Episode.”

When I can keep Mania at bay,
and leave depression aside
to sway

I become almost…normal.
But not quite.
I cover myself in riddles, rhymes, words
which multiply
covering my naked body
like leaves on a tree
or a shroud on a corpse.

My bipolar Muse
loves the lingering of letters,
the graffiti on the bathroom stall,
she loves poems, thought-puddles,
the beat of a fast paced drum.

My bipolar Muse
she is on a very short leash,
otherwise I cannot stop her
from her ramble, utters, riddles
word puzzles.

Delirium belongs beneath
a self-imposed cage,
yet still I suppose
without a Muse as such

I would have little creativity
of my own-barely enough to strike a match,
to form a word, a sentence, or even
fan the flames of a poem.

My bipolar Muse
without her, I’d become lost.
She is the demon which rages
inside me. She is the hinge connecting
two halves of a semi-broken brain.

She is my everything.

The beating of a broken brain.


The beating of a broken brain
as the world spins
She tilts at an angle on her axis,
and as the world begins to whirl, roll, and spin,

Onwards, ever onwards
her broken brain it beats from within.
It’s like the crashing classical music
from a drum.

This beating, bloated, breaking
ripping apart like thread from seams
Her broken beating bleeding brain
by too many

ideas all at once.
too many moments of
wondering lust.

too much delusion
or thought pollution.

She just cannot think straight
her words

begin to dissipate
into the swirling storm of
other brokenness-
over the Rage

at useless
and forgotten phrases

at her inability
to create something
random & pure

a whisper
a roar
a lion

which purrs.

Her beating bruised and bleeding
useless and insane
poetic yet dumbfounded
lost lonely yet lovely

excuse of a brain.

flowers flourish despite the rain…

March Madness,
with a whim and a flurry,
Mother Nature
sings her call.

She calls out to the flowers,
to begin to bud.
She echoes out to the plants,
to begin to grow.

under her ever watchful eyes,
the dance of spring begins with a twirl,
a wave, a recollection of
warm and simple wind.

slowly in our daze of
sheer amazement
winter concaves, collapses, makes room,
for Spring to begin.

and flowers, they flourish
despite the rain,
they refuse to fight the water
instead they drink in the tears
of the Earth- they swallow her secrets
her teardrops of rain.

it makes them
the plants bloated and drunken,
as if by the most scared of wine.