Roses and Crows

roses and rainfall
crows and the moon
steps and shudders
wind blows through

made myself forgotten
away with this world
huddled in home
tuned out the herds

and in the trains
on ocean coastlines
whispering horns
awaken my eyes

in dead of night
in life of day
roses and rainfall
i find time delayed

i part my sorrows
like waves in gray
sinking in depths
never to pray

made myself gone
left what i knew
shed the old
to grow the new

i build my layers
as fire demands
as flickering life
i re-strike my match

and greet the crow
who flies to the moon
i offer him roses
in rain he does croon

unbothered by weather
by wind or by storm
he, happy alone
i, too

one difference between us
he has his home
a murder awaiting
i, have none

~ Emily C.

9.16.18

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My Tomorrow

I was the sunset rising
from shadeless grays
from the sea of yesterdays
kissing the shore
with renewed love
opening the door
of darkness
but not without a burst

of color uncontainable
brushed on blue sky dusk

I laughed while the pines
tickled their needles
on my cosmic cheek
painting peachy pink

a flash only briefly there
and only there

if you were looking

I was the sunset rising
feathers spread far
I flew
from the places I used to know
and landed right where I was before
I was told I had to go

exactly where I was meant to be
foothill toes grip cool sand
slipping regrets fall from hand
the blanket of space
keeps me warm
in the birth of my tomorrow

~ Emily C. 9.12.18

Ripe Summer

ripe summer night
and far cooling stars have lost themselves in stories

forgotten by my dormant mind
as it slumbers months on endless end

pausing to make room, soaking in season’s rich soliloquies
spoken by crows perched on cobweb power lines

each morning pontificating in my open window
about today, golden in its new rebirth, can’t you see…

i’ve been walking far away with eyes open
through a sedated world

i, awakened by life
words silenced
so to hear

mind quiet
so to see

~ Em C. 8.17.18

Shade

i sit with this silence
alone with sleeping wind’s breath

the shade has grown long
slowly covering day’s nodding head

wrapped in vines’ creeping tendrils
i dreamed of night time

cradled by bees’ beating wings
nestled in blossoming thyme

sun-kissed melancholy
summer’s height reached

the savoring of a slipping moment
toes tickling tile as floor creaked

alone is not always lonely
sometimes it’s beautifully free

as a hummingbird dips and zips
sipping sugar water empty

my friends the crow, the woodpecker
the dragonfly — they know me

as humans come, promise, go
i prefer to be let be

here in the shade of night
alone with sunset’s last sigh

i sit with this silence
i close my eyes

~ Em C. 8.5.18

The Bringer

black sand sunset
shimmers with the glittering stars of eroded time
speckling in a terrarium on my kitchen table
its sun a distant searchlight peeking coyly
out from mid-summer clouds
parting just enough to light
a mini world infinitely big

when I spy it

all I can see are my feet feeling
tenderly through epochs
traveling to worlds not yet created

— not until this one implodes
melts down its constituent parts
into one roiling sphere
obliterated by its own helium god
whom we worshipped, believers or not

as the bringer
of all,
and end.

~ Em C. 8.3.18

Dark Sails

your dead dark sails billow
in the storm you tried to escape;
the one you aimed away from,
only you aimed the wrong way.

the way was rigged before
you chartered your doomed trip —
the patched vessel’s hull…rusted,
even as it moored in its safe slip.

you followed a fool star’s direction,
your fantasy in sky she wrote,
above glass water she beckoned,
twinkling false signs of hope.

onward into vast unknown,
i watched from wandering shore,
waving my warning arms,
all the harbingers you ignore.

the storm you failed to escape
shred your canvas heart,
trailing dark sails, straight
into toxic seas,

you sailed yourself apart.

~ Em C. 6.21.18

*For Anthony Bourdain, and anyone else who’s ever been taken for a ride by a manipulative narcissistic sociopath.

Wayward

I found my belief in the forest
amongst green shaded wood,

eyes climbing bark to canopy;
below — the tender growth of hope.

trudging muddy mire,
steps out of sync,

breathing in staccato,
thunder didn’t blink.

there discovered my spirit
hidden in twisted vines,

choking on bitter yesterdays,
coughing up discarded time.

mutilated mutterings,
incomprehensible speech,

contorted in design;
my own hands out of reach.

I found my soul dangling —
hung by its own rope,

swaying to a fickle wind
which blew the familiar corpse.

’Twas mine once before…
I recognize the scars;

So I came to free me,
I came to cut the rope,

to gather sunken spirit, 
to merge with wayward hope;

to capture my fleeting belief,
to walk in footsteps whole;

ones I laid down a million miles 
on a path I’ve travelled alone,

on wandering red ground I know
that has cradled these bloody tears.

I found my belief in the forest
I followed the sound of loss

the calling of the heart,
the echo of my soul.

 

~ Em C.

5.28.18