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Boom Bloom

~ Emma ~ Leave a comment

What do you see when your eyes close?
The day turns pink and the night goes.
What do you feel when you lick the horizon?
Tantalizing tangy rainbows dance on my tongue.

It stays only for a few moments
but lasts for years inside my heart.
Each time it arrives, each time it goes,
a never-ending cycle of joy that grows and grows.

It can’t stop, won’t stop, no matter what,
so some days, I’m like, “What the fuck.”
Because it’s so beautiful, breathtaking and mesmerizing,
I look around and feel so found.

Who is this for, these words here.
Just me, only me, but maybe you too.
I am inspired not by what you want to hear,
but what I need to say, let’s keep that clear.

I’ll walk this walk, follow my feet,
and listen only to these beats.
I’ll watch the water and the sun
as they call me, it’s so much fun.

I get my kicks from storms and sticks
produced by my friends, Mr. Weather and Miss Tree.
Their words bring truth like not nothing else,
we laugh and ponder things that light the sky.

I sing and watch the berries bleed
into my sink, after I soak them to the brink.
I dip them in chocolate heating on the stove,
because today’s menu requires no think.

I wander hoping to not talk to a soul,
it fills my cup and then a bucket.
I release the excess, and say “fuck it”
anonymous today please, that’s the goal.

These words fit just like new shoes,
I must litter the pages as I speak in hues.
I want to dance and flutter without hearing you mutter,
but it’s ok if you tend to sometimes stutter.

Today was such a good day,
my seagull told me the funniest joke.
I spit out my tea and thought I might choke,
is there a better way?

I sing to myself and release it all,
I look at the gifts that surround us
and it pisses me off that you take them for granted,
so all of your takings, I use, and let them know.

That I appreciate you, and you and you.
I see you, hear you, know you, follow you.
I give to you, watch you, ask you, I listen.
Everything they take, I give back.

I will equal the field when things unbalance,
I will let you know that you are loved,
I will remind you that you are seen,
I will embody what you need and flow it to you with speed.

I feel the boom inside your bloom,
and there’s lots of room.
My passion will restore you,
that you can always assume.

Fall

~ Emma ~ Leave a comment

Fall is so fucking beautiful especially in Vancouver.
I want to drink the sky’s velvet blue coat until I choke.
I want to eat the leaves, crunch the colours like candy corn until I bleed.

I was on the bus last week and I told the man sitting beside me
how unusually beautiful, vibrant and stunning fall was this year. Much more so.
He then began to explain to me that, in fact I did not feel what I do as a result
of the colours this year and the way fall is expressing itself. That there
really isn’t anything different about this year, it’s just my eyes have
adjusted coming from Ontario where the colours are always very exuberant in the fall.

I thought to myself, “No, actually, what I feel is valid. What I see is relevant,
and what I know is true.”

Why is there always a fucking man trying to correct how you feel and to
explain your emotions back at you like what you see and how you feel
about what you see isn’t in fact, real, that, “you feel that way because of this, not that.”

Really?

We kept chatting, he talked about his wife and him moving to
North Van from Ontario after COVID. I kept looking out the bus
window eye daggers penetrating every yellow, orange and red tree
as we moved through Stanley Park. A view that always has been more
satisfying and fulfilling to me than a man.

As we approached our stop at Park Royal, he grabs my hand,
looks at me deep in my eyes, pauses, and tells me
my smile is nothing he’s ever seen before (shocker) and asks
can he meet me again to talk more about the beauty of B.C.

It’s always my smile that gets them, sucks them in. It’s always the married ones.
I thanked him for the compliment, and politely declined his offer.
I’d rather sit through nine root canals and an appendectomy
than sit next to a man who wants to correct the way I see the world.

Fuck that.

I’ll stick with nature.

This Is Not a Poem (it looks like one though, but it’s not)

~ Emma ~ 2 Comments


One, Two, Four (shit I forgot Three), Five, Six, Seven.
How many seconds of your life
you’ve lost reading this spiel,
was it worth it?
No?
Fuck
I’ll try harder. Eight, Nine, Ten, Twelve
(why is my mind skipping numbers
I know they’re there).
Time’s a ticking I have no idea what to write
to keep you interested.
Fuck
How about Whole Foods?
I know a lot about Whole Foods.
Not because I’m a west coast hipster
who eats dandelion greens salads
and mango for dinner but,
(well actually that is me but for the sake of
holding your interest to keep reading this…
whatever this is, I won’t talk
about my granola lifestyle),
but because Whole Foods has great seating
to eat and people watch.
You don’t even need to actually buy
anything from the store you could straight up
just bring KFC and Starbucks
and sit by the window minding your business
next to the guy eating a watermelon
with a wooden spoon and no one would care.
Whole Foods wants you to be comfortable
and accepted, I think anyway.
That’s the vibe I get and why I go there.
Because really, with the world the way it is,
I just want comfort with a little bit of
acceptance on the side. I love sides.
So on days when I feel like I’m going
to lose my shit,
I go to Whole Foods,
park it at the tall long bar like table
facing the window, and watch people and cars
until sanity returns
and then I relocate to the chocolate aisle
and buy an $8 organic, vegan, sugar free
chocolate bar that tastes like chalk.
700% antioxidant factor though.
Hit me with the most theobromine possible.
Today I sat outside under the heat lamps
and had broccoli and cauliflower
slathered with thyme. I had enough time.
Woman beside me was eating
Subway.
Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.
Yes!
My brain’s back online. It’s the
flavanols.
Want some?
Have some.
Was it worth making
it to the end?
Maybe?

Good