Born New

before the world decides for you,
as your eyes are born brand new…

the colors charm
in many shades
smiles shine
with each new day

babes with curious fingers touch
skin of black, white,
yellow, red…each soft,
each tender yet tough,
over bones
just like their own,
a home

protecting a heart that beats,
that feels and clearly sees
new openings,
moments and memories;
charting a course
on life’s high seas

in time learning who loves,
who hates (and why);
a compassionate comment,
or vile rhetoric;
taught either one
or the other
mimicking a father,
a mother, a friend…

blank slate brewed
in hope or simmering blind fear
influenced by uniting words,
or divisive jeers
the pattern evolves
generation by generation
it all starts with adults
leading the way

setting an example, which one will it be:
an open hand, or a racist fist?
no time like the present
to stand up and fight!

maybe it’s a distant neighbor
maybe it’s your leader…

SPEAK OUT: HATE HAS NO HOME

peace and love
shall overcome

 

~ Emily C.

8.16.17

A Grand Illusion

everything is a grand illusion:
the sunset, clouds,
the night’s long-dead stars,

the way you smiled at me.

how the trees touch the sky
and my breathing
— in, out, in, out.

metronomic existence
timed to expire
when the game is done.

trick of the eye, this life…
like your love
bad roll of the dice
random happenstance
slick hands you had
and
words as concrete
as the tide,

that always detracts more than adds
when it pulls away,
subsides.

leaving worn rocks…
deceptive in their strength
erodible in time, like

the strongest hearts.

if we close our eyes,
does nothing exist?

when we open them
what
can we trust?

~ Emily C.

8.14.17

Crisp

I had forgotten how the rain sounds

when it falls on leaves, stiffened

in windless weeks, smoked

to a crisp. Portentous orangeness

clung like viscous ghost, hanging

‘round horizon; in heavy robe, haunting

us. Goading us. With every growing sun

light darkened in a lifeless sky. We

breathed in short breaths, lungs coated

with grime. Time slowed, each second

choked. No where to hide, we froze.

And burned.

Waiting…

It broke. And blue view spoke,

‘tween clouds pockmarking heavens

we forgot existed. Oasis of air,

freed by westerlies — onshore breeze,

blew life into our lungs

once again. Wet. Clean. Free.

 

~ Emily C.

 

8.13.17

The Thing About Poets…

the thing about poets…

we see all colors
yet
we see none

we create lines
yet
we push minds’ boundaries

we see tomorrow
yet
only the truth of today

 

~ Emily C.

8.6.17

***

I was overcome today by the feeling of community in the Instagram poetry world (and WordPress, too), when I paused to appreciate that we support one another regardless of race, ethnicity or gender. Yes, there are some trouble makers and trolls, like everywhere, but on the whole, as poets we see the beauty in everyone’s heart. And some hearts are dark and troubled, some are open and light, but we hold each other with love, regardless.

 

 

 

 

Free Me ~ Haiku


 

Choking hazy smoke

Another red sun looming

Free me on sailed sea

 

~ Emily C.

7.6.17

 

***

Day 6:  Smoke is still here. I can smell it in the house when I opened the bedroom door this morning to the hall where it’s an obvious contrast. But, then sitting in the house, one acclimates to it.

I have been running HEPA air purifiers with brand new filters round the clock, and have only opened the doors briefly in morning or night to let the cool air in for a bit. And even THAT has been enough to make it smell smokey in here. Check out my filter picture, the one on the left was new on Thursday. The one on the right is unused. Look at all that dirt caught in only 3 days. Crazy! Glad its in there and not my lungs, but I do feel it a bit anyway.

The first two pics are from Sigma Shreedharan again. Yucky air makes for great art!

The third pic is mine off my back deck at sunset. We are still dealing with heat, but it’s only in the high 80s instead of high 90s now. After the 4 feet of rain we had this winter, I didn’t think I’d be desperate for a raincloud, but here we are. 🙂

Side note: my Mac’s trackpad has been causing issues and making my cursor go berserk in a scary way. So, I haven’t been able to use it and all my poetry bookmarks are on that one. I will be delayed even more in catching up on your awesome words. But, in time will be trying my best to catch up.

Also back to my vestibular therapist tomorrow. Still working my way through that, but definitely not as acute as I was. The new exercises have been a challenge for my brain on top of the environmental triggers lately with the heat and smoke. Looking forward to clean air and improved health.

Miss you all and thank you for your steadfast support.

 

Stone, Alone

I stood there naked
bared to all
a soul without a home

Awash in meandering sunbeams
I bathed
frozen in stone, alone

To take one step would shatter
marbled memories
onto cold hardwood floor

The mind seeks nimble compass
to guide me far
toward your closed door

Yet when I gaze to palm for north
compass aims
arrow back to timid heart

So till the chisel of your love
takes aim 
at fortress in my chest

I stand here naked
bared to all
frozen heart, in stone,

alone

 

 

~ Emily C.

8.5.17