Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

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.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Nervous Nelly

Nervous Nelly by Emily Sturgill
5/18/13

Nerves of steel,
turned to jelly-what has happened to me?
The Scattered Strung out Capital
Letter "S" fell
right off my chest.

Now I have become nothing more -
nor nothing less,
than a nervous nelly,
a girl put to a test.

I wonder why I bother,
to write such dribble-drabble,
that's likely as all sorts
of hell,
to get me into trouble.

I worried what people will think or feel,
when they read what I have written.
I question myself, my sanity, and my writer's ability...

So much, is just never thought out,
I'm a bit like the faucet,
that never finishes dripping out.
I dribble,dangle, words
into something reductive.

a subtraction of emotion,
a fraction of truth, and than
what else???

The "S" fell off my chest so very long ago...
I doubt it was ever really there.
Nobody's superhero-lately,
just another crazy-lady.

One who talks too much,
and shouts crap from the roof-tops,
and cobweb corners and such
a mumbling muttering crazy old hag.

A bag of flesh and bones,
drifting upon a sea of words,
best left unspoken,

but deep inside of me,
there lies,
an utter and angry bitch

and she does and says what-ever,
when-ever, she wants too,
not much I can do to rein her in,
my bipolar drugs/meds they help,
to a bit to calm her inner storms.

yet still deep within, she's an angry bad girl.
and I am a nervous nelly.
Writing down so many secrets from
my head.

What will people say? What will they think? And how will they feel?
Is it too personal to admit,
I do go crazy from time to time.
at least i don't live there anymore.