Some Fights

some fights are silent
some roars you can’t hear
some nights leave scars
some days birth fear

courage comes each sunrise
bravery in the dark
while you are sleeping pretty
I’ll be swinging a punch

in dreams, I plan my attack
which way to focus aim
how my feet will land
in morning’s sweet refrain

you run about your day
in automated normalcy
you think you know my way
while I confront my enemy

fear may fright my veins
and keep me on the cliff
but willingly I’ll face
my fate and my what-ifs

for only by standing fast
where I feel my very worst
can my faulty feet
learn to walk once again

some fights are mere moments
some roars are salty tears
some nights bring peace
some days birth falling heroes 

 

~ Emily C. 10.19.17

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Colors Bled

Colors bled on glass lake
deep reds trapped deep
mirage for eyes beckons
but waves away at touch

can’t capture it, don’t try
they will call you in to die
sinking in the fallen leaves
your ambitious hope denied

color attracts
for love and death

poison or passion
— watch your step

know your petals
know your heart

know when to touch 
and when to not

~ Emily C. 10.12.17

Tears Don’t Fall

Tears don’t fall

In outer space

They stay pooled

Against one’s face

I will fly there

To seek escape

Gather saline

In a jar…

But I dare say:

It won’t be large

Enough for tears

I’ll expect to cry

For my fate, when

I realize just

How far away

I had to soar

To see me…free

A specimen

You kept

Wings clipped

Habitat restricted

In form and function

Pinned to your bulletin board

Studied and displayed

Until one day

I broke the glass

With a scream

Echoing into

My future dream

In a cold vacuum

Unreachable by all

Save for my own heart

And a salty mason jar

~ Emily C.

10.8.17

Ash

the wind arrives with a familiar fury
she wonders whether or not to bury
her head, heavy still with last year’s
seasons — fireplace and smoke,
pores choked in acrid pain that won’t
wipe clean, just smears like tears
on skin that used to rebound,
resilient as a rubber band, now
snaps. awakened by the sound
of herself coming to. the truth.
and no way around it. but through
another season she goes, brave
like an iron poker in the fire
of time. she radiates attraction.
a mesmerizing glow. pretty to look.
but don’t touch. her heat will burn you.
the wind’s fury pulls her smoke up,
curls her exhausted air, like the hookah
the caterpillar tokes.
her ‘help’ rises from her cold ash,
disperses on the wind reminding her
who’s in charge — dear girl, not you.
not you.

 

~ Emily C.

10.6.17

Poisoned Dreams

your chest was once my pillow
your heart my poisoned dreams
the driving rain on the window
my tears echoed in their grief

a stroke of hand feels for flesh
reveals illusion in night’s death
a nothingness in place of you
a vacant cold my hands caressed

your image stirs behind tired lids
your name froths on tip of tongue
drifting to unconsciousness
toxic dreams of hope, my bane

to wake, to sleep, matters not
either realm reminds me
you left your crumbs of memories
dried bits of love left molding

o, slip me wine, a bottle or two
numb this aching heart
how can one escape a ghost
when he’s in every thought

 

~ Emily C.

10.4.17

Haiku

IMG_4651IMG_4674IMG_4654IMG_4659IMG_4663IMG_4683IMG_4681IMG_4689IMG_4695IMG_4658fullsizeoutput_26ebIMG_4720IMG_4690IMG_4698IMG_4687IMG_4706fullsizeoutput_26ecIMG_4694IMG_4723IMG_4721IMG_4700IMG_4722IMG_4725IMG_4719IMG_4726IMG_4732IMG_4727IMG_4729IMG_4728IMG_4730IMG_4735IMG_4740

 

 

Color catches eye

Autumn takes center stage now

Slipping summer’s grip

 

~ Emily C.

10.4.17

 

***

 

All photography mine. Took my Rebel to the lake today for some “real” photography, in part inspired by Meg’s earlier post. I had been neglecting my camera camera. Beautiful day for it.

And of course, there would be a flamenco couple dressed to the hilt having their professional photography done on the dock. Stunning garb and so beautiful when she spun her skirt.