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

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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

Tears of Thorns

tears of thorns fell from eyes
— a cry for all that left her —
a saline sigh 
for souls gone by

a wail for those departed.

a guttural scream,
for the nothing in the wake
of their wakes —

as hard as it needed to be
as long as it took to heal
goddammit

don’t lend your hand
unless you don’t mind

getting wet
or punctured
by the dripping pain

lend me your silence

…and…
(…and until…)
I breathe again

my heart on offer
for a limited time
to a worthy bidder
capable of navigating
these

tears flowing from ravine eyes
that carried curdling current
far from its nascent origin
to burgeoning
bursting
walls
of loss

 

~ Emily C.

7.22.17

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

You

you
seduced sun into oblivion

we
were okay with that

you
made lying in darkness okay

we
joined you in black

you
gave life to our emotions

we
sang along

you
lit stars with your voice

we
the blessed audience

you
were us

we
will now be you

~ Emily C.

5.21.17

***

I’m so tapped out from this week. The grief is real. And I am merely one of millions of people feeling this way. I can only think in short bits. It’s all I have right now.

We, temporary

Divided by hot, by cold
by invisible lines
by present future

Zeus oversees with a bolting staff
a stab in Olympus’ bare back
electrifying his kingdom’s sky

we watch
we wow 
we sense
the shock

a power humanity
will never possess
unless dreams, unless
actors in plays

we weaklings
we flesh
we, beckoning death

our paltry specks
our accidental
existence

the gods
the goddesses
outlast time

we?
wander
we, temporary
here and gone
world goes on
gods roaring

gawking eyes see

yet see nothing
in the end
but mortality

~ Emily C.

5.4.17

*All photos of today’s thunderstorms in Seattle, all mine except the last. Today was a show of nature, I stormchased and caught a bolt of lightning. 🙂