Morning pallor on a grey day
not a five cent shine
to the sun.

Bitumen hissed all night
trees tossed and tangoed
shuddered and split.

Navy clouds, blue with rain
surfed in from the ocean
racing on the wild wind
learning to scream.

The stones listened
moon listed and tried to find
a space in the cloud-tide rush
to quiet-light the gloom.

Morning Armistice on a pale grey day
of debris and displacement
refugees and leaf litter
surrender and detachment
silent and still
only a five cent shine to the sun

© M.L.Emmett

I really did love you
I loved you more than you will ever understand
My heart beat for you
I know that's cliche
But its true

I loved you with more than I had
Leaving me in this permanent debt to you
So I couldn't be the strong one in this relationship anymore

I needed you to hold me tight
I need you to protect me
And make sure no one would ever hurt me
But instead I protected you

I'm not strong enough anymore to take care of you
I held you up
And you let me fall
So I shattered

You left this mess
And now if anyone else comes along
They will have to pick up the pieces
Because I am not strong enough

It wasn't all you
I was already cracked
And there were pieces missing
But you said you didn't care
Because you were broken too

So now we both are
And that's okay because  
**I miss you too

Poets are word canaries
prepared to die in dark, airless places.
Poets are sharp sirens
alert, alarmed and warning of the firestorm.

Poets can read
tree bark calligraphy of knots and scars.
Poets decipher codes
and shrewd puzzles, bold and enigmatic.

Poets ignore the talk of Angels
their prophecies and broken promises
Poets turn over Tarot cards
lay out rune stones, fearless of the future.

Poets steer clear
of treasure, jewels and golden ingots.
Poets climb ladders
and stairways cut in rock and stone.

Poets can see beyond
apple blossom, lilac blooms and dead lilies.
Poets find the past
in patterns of stars and the orbit of comets.

Poets lick salt
relishing the wounds and tears.
Poets throw life-belts
wreaths onto empty oceans.

Poets split existence
into life and death with nothing between.
Poets sift ashes
and sand for the rough edges of infinity.

Oh darling how I've missed you
your satin smile
your endless eyes
tame soul encompassing passion
but I've realized I need a wild heart
with a smiling sentiment
someone who proclaims their love
instead of whispering it into paper
someone who gives
a little more of themselves each day
for me to fall in love with
and oh how far I have fallen
but I'm learning to catch myself
so I've pushed myself away from you
toward a new start

I stand aloof
when the muddy water
makes its own way, flowing.

this keeps my dress decent,
and no stain anywhere.

I wear deafness
when backbitting bubbles
in a street everywhere.

this keeps my heart empty
of ill-feelings of others.

this is a message,
my children, yes, my children,
never go out when the sun has sunk.

this is a message,
my children, how to shine on society.