Tide of Stars

Prayers at the shoreline to distant gods,
mantras and chants for mystery maker.
Dark matter ripples gently move her hair.

Evening storm retreats, trailing shocks strike
as parting clouds evaporate like dried tears
she cried once, for life’s loves, lives lost,

while tidal waves yawn on black horizon,
swallowing all with a smacking crash,
closing in upon her beach this night

until in dark consuming light she sees
tides of stars at her bare feet, collecting
along moondust sand with each lick of waves.

In her graceful aging youth, never to be old,
she smiles — the stars gathered in her palms
chime as diamonds might in a gathered dress

that flows along winds of time — which pauses.
One dainty swirl and scattered again, they fly…
in the distance, a shooting star aims for her heart.

~ Emily C.

 

6.25.17

Good Morning Glory

Good morning glory…
blinding white sun,
vines entwined round flowers
choking life undone

by nyctinastic summer blooms 
…you rise despite our hands
that yank and tug and pull,
removing you, none can.

But something must die
for you to grow.
Something must suffocate
for you to show.

Spread your slithering tentacles,
grabbing at anything;
all disappears
beneath beauty’s smothering —

A smile for you
is a smile for death,
for kill or be killed…
summer’s Coliseum contest.

 

~ Emily C.

6.24.17

No Answer

darkness rumbles in distant realms.

inner ear hears mountains moans.

taking steps on trampoline floor,

shaking when the wind shifts core.

thrown to the abyss against my wish…

…these walls have been carved before

their messages clear and clearly old,

alone I fall amongst long lost,

my screams only heard by sediment;

it crumbles in my turbulent wake,

but all I feel is my own cold breath,

exhaling gales in earth-scoring notes,

writing my story read by none,

except the stars when entropy wins,

when all returns to nothingness.

why does life matter?

I ask whom exactly?

no answer comes back.

all is black.

~ Emily C.

6.22.17

As Rain Falls

As rain falls dripping chapters
I read between descending spheres
Reflections captured in glass globes
Past fortunes interpreted as dreams

As dreams fall in misty memories
Caught in wandering wistful eyes
Clouded by what could have been 
Flooded by lost pasts, I cry

As tears overflow heart’s garden
Sky and salty brine combined
Long dormant buried wishes
Sprout forth in fertile soil’s palm

 

~ Emily C.

6.15.17

Grayscale

clouds speak for me my stories
when mind can’t make the words
they roll in curling narratives
lofted high on winds seaward

billowing in grayscale pain
they gather under distant stars
in darkness harkens beauty’s rain
drowning, drifting, away, afar

their thunder breaks my silence
read them, dear reader, read them
one day you’ll find me again, writing
on dry shoreline’s clean slate sand

 

~ Emily C.

6.13.17

Last Sound

Sun is at my back
my shadow long
grass is tall
I’ve lost the ocean
I’ve lost my sea

Sun is setting
it’s all I can see
it’s all I can feel

My shadow blows
on bending reeds
forever pointing
ninety degrees
east of me
away from me

I’ve lost my ocean
I’ve lost the sea
life is sinking
dark is all I see
dark is all I feel

Sun drifts down
behind my back
forgetting my name
I scream “I am here”
I scream

but
sun returns to cave

My feet walk onward
following those reeds
following those reeds
who know more than me
point me some direction
…any
any but back
any but back
any but back

Did you know
train tracks whistle
before the train arrives
the last sound heard

warning no one
in time

~ Emily C.

6.10.17