To ask the world

To ask the world:
is love too much to ask?

has hate defined our past
so much that we forgot
human is human
is human?

the skin, religion, gender we wear
clothe red hearts that beat the same

that cry and grieve the same
that hope and fear the same
that love and die
the same…
with a kiss, a last gasp

and here we are fighting. 
for what?

aren’t we
neighbors on this big rock?
under the same sky,
wishing on the same
stars light, stars bright?

how i wish someday

peace would prevail;
one vote
at a time.

~ Em C.
12.12.18

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What is a night without a kiss

what is a night without a kiss
the touch of skin withdrawn
an empty half untended
an unwrinkled pillow sham

dreams provide the company
to live amongst the realms
where anything is possible
where anyone offers arms

what is this life without a love
a station for thine heart
walking with a frozen hand
unanchored in roaming earth

what is a night without a kiss
a coldness in lonely home
as time grows old in raindrops
and wrinkles unchecked grow

~ Em C. 12.11.18

Retrospective

retrospective gazing
at a life’s night that lost
itself in parchment phases,
my head

turned your memory
into wormhole scrapbooks
mocking long-lost destiny,
lessons learned one-by-one
in glue stick plastering,
mapping glossy mistakes
in page-numbered time,

the cold sorcery of pictures
posted in behind-the-back
finger-crossing finery,
dressing up camera ready
fragile smiles
with never-to-be dreams,
soon cracked to shattered bits
by the hammer
of reality

~ Emily C.
12.8.18

Night Falls

when night falls
and you close your eyes
as the cat sleeps
and thin windows creak
my mind unwinds
a top stopping
its spin decreased
its dreams unleashed
when dark descends
and light succumbs
as walls close in
sighs strum
the strings of time
make music for me
familiar refrains
my lives notes untamed
legs scarred with age
young skin now old
heart still pounds
youthful joy unfolds
when night falls
i lie awake
the world sleeps
this space
i’ll keep

~ Emily C.

9.23.18

All the Churches

all the churches in the world
can’t preach enough to me,
to verify a creator,
a godly overseer.

i like my facts and figures,
my scientific proof,
don’t try to convince me,
you will only waste precious breath.

no evidence you choose
can hold up in my court;
my stance is firmly immovable,
go take it somewhere else.

and then comes distant mystery:
man before without a face,
wandering into field of vision,
heaven in human state.

hair that waves as silk
upon an angel’s lofty head
eyes of darkened cosmos,
silver flecks of stars embed.

traveling gaze drops to lips,
those pillows of pure divine…
imagining mine own upon them,
melting in lost time.

unprepared for hearing —
your voice sang just two notes,
one for me, one for you,
yet together sang a chorus.

you are my enigma,
the proof i can’t deny:
you with universe in your eyes,
the sole reason

i believe.

~ Emily C.,

3.23.18

The Song of Science

i can see you waving
from Mars

your empty wheelchair floating
to endless abyss beyond

free you breathe and unbound you dance
and here we are, left to grasp

the voice of a genius brain
once silenced, now echoing

into the cold cosmos:
singing the song of science
to any and all

you scrawl
a theorem into red dust sand
for the next explorer
soon arriving
on the waves of your thoughts

we will carry on
searching,
celebrating the next big bang
for you,
and knowing
you have been

released from prison
freedom attained
leaving earth
your star
remains

~ Emily C.~

RIP Stephen Hawking

3.13.18

What Messages

what messages the sky writes,
how we often ignore,
how they linger up above,
how far — how far we blindly go

before we tilt up downcast chins,
only awaken in raining verse?
when everything else dissolves;
when nothingness — the only force.

adrift in blackened matter,
calligraphic tomes stars etch
in speckled comet tails, we sputter,
ashore, we run our forlorn hearts

when all space becomes horizon,
stories told fall to scattered dust,
as fire burns to moon sand
and oxygen breathed expires.

what message the sky writes,
how quickly we seek to forget?
how now to fall awake asleep,
oh how we dream until death.

 

~ Emily C.

1.8.18