Haiku

Incognito soul

Stuck between realities

Navigating time

~ Emily C.

1.11.18

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Scored

one tear fell down
into the gorge in his heart.

it traced her memory
splashing blood
as it wound around
the turns and bends
of a life loved and lost.

there…her hello, a kiss.
here…the night of impassioned bliss,
when no one else but them

existed.

the day she came home with eyes
that lied about happiness,
the night she decided to stay,
the morning she ran away…

cut out the flesh of his heart
organically scored
by saline rushes unstopped
by time, free flowing
from inlet to outlet,

one tear
culminating in
a waterfall without end.

 

~ Emily C.

12.7.17

Snippet of Time

just a snippet of time,
cut like a diamond.

memories collected in patchwork collage,
stuck with the glue of love,
warped by rain of grief.

colors spoke stories in faded smiles,
raptured by trials,

captured in pages we made just to hold on to the un-holdable.

just a snippet of us,
shared only with pages in the dark.

what is it about now that we don’t want to see?
so many past nows we’d rather have.

parchment crinkles with each turning moment.
unnumbered days marked by captions we saved

to grasp, to sort, to puzzle-solve, to make sense
of torn time, snippets of what’s worth remembering

now falling out. the love dried up.
fluttering to a dusty floor
leaves of life die
in time

and no one left caring.
no one has any glue.

 

~ Emily C.

11.29.17

Stranger Again

let me be a stranger again.

forget what you think you know.

my words recede from memory,

your image ceases to glow.

free my soul from reverie.

release past to forgotten time.

all night stars are daydreams that die,

away from home, all hearts fly.

remember not my name in stone.

don’t think of me at night.

and when you see me again,

it will be with new delight.

~ Emily C. 

11.1.17

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

Cherry Pie ~ Haiku (& an update)


(All photography by Emily C.)

Red orbs shimmering,

Whipped cream art swirling beauty…

Sorry! Just one piece.

~ Emily C. 9.2.17

****
Hey guys!

I’ve not been around much as life has been busy on many levels. I haven’t been writing a lot, and I haven’t been reading on WP. I’ve been trying to squeeze the last few drops out of summer, while still managing my vestibular therapy needs.  I’m probably overdoing myself some, but soon will be back in a rhythm, I hope. Having to keep moving for my brain to compensate, and spending 1.5 hours a day on my therapy exercises, means I have little time to sit, and reading and screen time are not comfortable on my brain.

At least a few times a day, I get a first line for a poem popping into my head. I haven’t been listening much, nor writing them down.  My attention has been on friends and family, summer, and my health.

I do hope that I still have the words and that when I listen, I will be producing more like I used to.  Right now, I’m filling my real life with memories and moments out in the real world to sustain me through the upcoming year.

For example…spent time in North Bend recently, an hour from Seattle where they film Twin Peaks, both the original (which is on Netflix) and the new season (which I can’t watch since I don’t have Showtime).

The Salish Lodge at Snoqualmie Falls is always beautiful. It’s long been a staple day trip for me growing up, and just happens to be where they film for Twin Peaks but in the show it’s known as “The Great Northern Hotel”.  They have luxury world class accommodations and dining, and while I’ve never been able to afford staying there, I’ve eaten there and it’s amazing.

Then there’s Twede’s Cafe, or in the show it’s known as the double R, or RR2Go.  Been coming here my whole life, too, for some diner fare and a slice of cherry pie. If you know the main character, Agent Cooper, his tagline is that he loves the cafe for it’s “slice of cherry pie and a damn fine cup of coffee.”  Well, it’s true.

It’s a beautiful area and I’ve spent many a summer visiting. Snoqualmie is a neighboring town with quaint shops, the oldest operating train station in the country with a charming museum, and a backdrop of the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. Picturesque and charming.

Many a time I have run up Mt. Si in North Bend, the foreboding and dominant peak that is so prominently looming over the town. It’s a beast, but provides an amazing view.  I like the way down better. Takes a couple hours to run up, practically 45 degrees, while other hikers look at you like you’re crazy (you are), but the way down is like 40 minutes. Just don’t slip and fall in the snow like I did once. That hurt.

Thank you for your support as always, and I will check in with your writing when life returns to more of a normal pattern.

I hope YOU are all out and away from the computer for a bit and taking in your summer sustenance with nature and people as well.

Much love, always!


Mug

Frozen feet stood at attention,
the wind sucked the door —
slammed it shut, cut
circulation.

daze broken in violence
the shudder shook the mug
out the cupboard it danced,
falling on

the jewelry dish
in slow motion it landed,
crashed; no cushion
in the checkered linoleum

as it fell
so did the memories

of Hawaii when we were young
of free souvenirs from Hilo Hattie
“Here, take 4!” They said.
we took 4, knowing we had

no room in the suitcase
it was hard to lug home
those memories
heavy, that bag
the times

we drank from them
objects of a simpler life
when we didn’t need much
but each other

slow motion it fell
like our need for each other
what’s one less mug?

frozen, standing:
thinking if I rush I can catch it
if I leap I can stop it
maybe it won’t break
(it broke)

but gravity and time
conspire
against me, us

what’s one less mug?
what’s one more day?
is there a difference,
will you notice anyway
when you come home?

I notice
why don’t I care?
do I? I guess I do…
enough to feel sad
about the mug

~ Emily C.

8.25.17