Heartful Musings: The scoop on 2014!! AND my biggest giveaway ever!! ♥
Reposting this in order to increase my odds of winning something artsy or crafty or Artsy and Crafty!! Hoorah!!
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Monday, July 21, 2014
Endometriosis Stage IV
Endometriosis is painful eruptions
like so many little earthquakes
deep under my skin.
it is a condition
where the cells of the
endometrial uterine lining
take off, spread and grow-they
go party
in other places of my body.
but not where they belong.
not at all.
its not just another period.
its more like just another
nuclear meltdown-
as I sit here fused
to my heating pad.
this morning i could not
prevent the moaning and groaning
the deep aching in my belly, my breasts, my groin
and my back.
it was time for another pain pill
and a muscle relaxer too.
my hubby was so concerned
but its like this every month.
my body & i
engaged in a fight to the death.
the worst part of this illness
perhaps is that it is invisible.
no one can see the reason for your pain.
although sometimes things like
fibroids and ovarian cysts
do appear in an ultrasound.
when it hurts like this-
all i can really do is stay in bed
and gasp, shout and cry.
I don't know why or how,
I even developed this disease
or how to fix it.
Doctors mumbo jumbo
about removing my lady bits
like a hysterectomy
is some sort of simple bandage.
And I refuse to do that.
At age 40 I know menopause
will be knocking down my door
soon enough anyway.
And infertility breaks my heart,
entirely.
I'm not completely ready
to throw in that towel
and give up on my dreams
of motherhood indefinitely.
I am just not ready.
but each month the pain
it swallows me whole
like a snake devouring
a small gray mouse.
i am the mouse.
i am the mouse. I AM THE MOUSE.
this pain, is beyond
normal description.
it is almost unbearable.
but that is my lot.
my burden to bear.
an invisible disease
an illness misunderstood.
with no one to share.
with no one to share
the beast of my burden
except
a little gray mouse
in the mouth
of a python.
like so many little earthquakes
deep under my skin.
it is a condition
where the cells of the
endometrial uterine lining
take off, spread and grow-they
go party
in other places of my body.
but not where they belong.
not at all.
its not just another period.
its more like just another
nuclear meltdown-
as I sit here fused
to my heating pad.
this morning i could not
prevent the moaning and groaning
the deep aching in my belly, my breasts, my groin
and my back.
it was time for another pain pill
and a muscle relaxer too.
my hubby was so concerned
but its like this every month.
my body & i
engaged in a fight to the death.
the worst part of this illness
perhaps is that it is invisible.
no one can see the reason for your pain.
although sometimes things like
fibroids and ovarian cysts
do appear in an ultrasound.
when it hurts like this-
all i can really do is stay in bed
and gasp, shout and cry.
I don't know why or how,
I even developed this disease
or how to fix it.
Doctors mumbo jumbo
about removing my lady bits
like a hysterectomy
is some sort of simple bandage.
And I refuse to do that.
At age 40 I know menopause
will be knocking down my door
soon enough anyway.
And infertility breaks my heart,
entirely.
I'm not completely ready
to throw in that towel
and give up on my dreams
of motherhood indefinitely.
I am just not ready.
but each month the pain
it swallows me whole
like a snake devouring
a small gray mouse.
i am the mouse.
i am the mouse. I AM THE MOUSE.
this pain, is beyond
normal description.
it is almost unbearable.
but that is my lot.
my burden to bear.
an invisible disease
an illness misunderstood.
with no one to share.
with no one to share
the beast of my burden
except
a little gray mouse
in the mouth
of a python.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Memories
Memories-2/8/14
She is trapped
in a poet's song.
Her anxiety is horrid,
as another trashy ugly memoir
spreads through-out her
mind,
as if
her brain
was caught on fire
alight with flame
and blaze.
She is trapped
in a poet's song.
She lives in a dark fantasy
and keeps Earth
alive in a tea-cup.
She is trapped
in a poet's song.
Darkness fades into
fistfuls of anguish
the deepest of shadows
curtails the most darkest of flowers.
Joy is the ever elusive clown
who evades her.
She can never quite reach him
as he stands afar laughing.
And She is of Course,
trapped in a Poet's Song.
She does not fit in/nor does she belong
in anything more or less
than the smallest fragment
of a faded memory
of loneliness and sorrow.
Only more regrets
lasting for tomorrow
as she is under lock and key
trapped into this Poet's song
with me.
She is trapped
in a poet's song.
Her anxiety is horrid,
as another trashy ugly memoir
spreads through-out her
mind,
as if
her brain
was caught on fire
alight with flame
and blaze.
She is trapped
in a poet's song.
She lives in a dark fantasy
and keeps Earth
alive in a tea-cup.
She is trapped
in a poet's song.
Darkness fades into
fistfuls of anguish
the deepest of shadows
curtails the most darkest of flowers.
Joy is the ever elusive clown
who evades her.
She can never quite reach him
as he stands afar laughing.
And She is of Course,
trapped in a Poet's Song.
She does not fit in/nor does she belong
in anything more or less
than the smallest fragment
of a faded memory
of loneliness and sorrow.
Only more regrets
lasting for tomorrow
as she is under lock and key
trapped into this Poet's song
with me.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
musical madness
musical madness
lives inside of me,
in a whirlwind frenzy.
a good song travels
faster than
my imagination,
a good song travels
faster than
the speed of light.
i love listening
but singing along is alright
too as long as i am alone.
musical madness
lives inside of me,
in a whirlwind frenzy.
a good song erases completely
this fragment of time
evolves into a mystery.
I lose myself, but into;
all the greatest of places.
I lose my self, in bits and pieces.
I lose my sadness, my grief and sorrows.
focusing only on the sound,
of the beat
and the places music takes me.
it's a peaceful journey.
it's a way of time travel,
without ever leaving home.
Each and every song
bestows a memory.
its a key unlocking a door
of how far i have climbed.
and how much farther i need to go.
lives inside of me,
in a whirlwind frenzy.
a good song travels
faster than
my imagination,
a good song travels
faster than
the speed of light.
i love listening
but singing along is alright
too as long as i am alone.
musical madness
lives inside of me,
in a whirlwind frenzy.
a good song erases completely
this fragment of time
evolves into a mystery.
I lose myself, but into;
all the greatest of places.
I lose my self, in bits and pieces.
I lose my sadness, my grief and sorrows.
focusing only on the sound,
of the beat
and the places music takes me.
it's a peaceful journey.
it's a way of time travel,
without ever leaving home.
Each and every song
bestows a memory.
its a key unlocking a door
of how far i have climbed.
and how much farther i need to go.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
The Female Roars
The Female Roars-
It starts with an explosion.
Fits of outrage, fur and teeth,
the Lioness Roars
in order to protect her cubs.
She is all complete Beauty,
in that mere moment
of raw agony and fierce loyalty.
She will fight to the death,
to protect her young ones.
She is a wild force of nature.
You do not want to be,
the one who has crossed
her.
She has perfected protection,
to the essentials
of sharpen teeth, claws, and
utter strength.
To threaten her cubs,
is foolish, and the results
could be very dangerous
if not even deadly.
Human Mothers are not
that much different.
When push comes to shove-
The Female Roars.
written for Lisa.
It starts with an explosion.
Fits of outrage, fur and teeth,
the Lioness Roars
in order to protect her cubs.
She is all complete Beauty,
in that mere moment
of raw agony and fierce loyalty.
She will fight to the death,
to protect her young ones.
She is a wild force of nature.
You do not want to be,
the one who has crossed
her.
She has perfected protection,
to the essentials
of sharpen teeth, claws, and
utter strength.
To threaten her cubs,
is foolish, and the results
could be very dangerous
if not even deadly.
Human Mothers are not
that much different.
When push comes to shove-
The Female Roars.
written for Lisa.
Updates and New Release
I have updated my Authors Website: http://sexinthekitchensink.wix.com/books-by-emily
I have also updated my Art Therapy Website:https://sites.google.com/site/holisticartexpressions/
and i have a new release of poetry and artwork on kindle, called,"Words Whirl: Poetry and Artwork." 2013, by Emily Sturgill. Currently, it is on sale at just $3.99, for the kindle copy. It is roughly 43 pages.
Here is a link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EO7EB5K
I have also updated my Art Therapy Website:https://sites.google.com/site/holisticartexpressions/
and i have a new release of poetry and artwork on kindle, called,"Words Whirl: Poetry and Artwork." 2013, by Emily Sturgill. Currently, it is on sale at just $3.99, for the kindle copy. It is roughly 43 pages.
Here is a link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EO7EB5K
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Smoke and Ash
Where there is Smoke,
there is Ash.
Today's clouds fold into themselves,
like a giant sky envelope
and the Sun is a first class postage stamp.
Memories have run dry.
They have had their fill.
A blank mind-erases everything,
but the present moment-
this pen-
this paper-
these words
I scratch together.
Someday
Some other time and place-
these words maybe considered poetic or
even poetry.
But that future, is still so far away-
I cannot grasp it.
For this moment,
I reach out for the most perfect
single word
and nothing more,
or nothing less,
than silence is heard.
there is Ash.
Today's clouds fold into themselves,
like a giant sky envelope
and the Sun is a first class postage stamp.
Memories have run dry.
They have had their fill.
A blank mind-erases everything,
but the present moment-
this pen-
this paper-
these words
I scratch together.
Someday
Some other time and place-
these words maybe considered poetic or
even poetry.
But that future, is still so far away-
I cannot grasp it.
For this moment,
I reach out for the most perfect
single word
and nothing more,
or nothing less,
than silence is heard.
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