love

Wolves and Wine

~ Emma ~ Leave a comment

You took off like a bullet.
Do bullets actually take…off?
I put on a sweater because it’s cold now.
Your absence brings an age of…ice.

Icy shivers down my spine.
I’m going to add to my sweater, some wine.
I don’t drink, is this ok? I look at your face, but I’m blind.
It’s a good thing we never signed.

I’m inside a warm and cozy cave.
I’ve got tools and I know how to save.
It’s just us now. You’re my fav.
The fire I’ve got inside, keeps me brave.

I’m ok huddled here, I’ll be ok.
I can hear the wolves outside, I hope they stay.
It’s peaceful in here, I’ve made a good spot to lay.
The night is long but today…is the day.

The cave walls have a smooth look.
No jagged or rough edges, nowhere for a hook.
I feel safe. The flames burning, crackling, I remember what you took.
Be careful out there, don’t get shook.

I sit here by the fire, in my sweater in this cave.
I watch their movement outside, the wolves pace back and forth.
I’m not afraid. I think they are my protection, not here for an election.
Thank you dear wolf pack, for having my back.

How did I get here? Huddled, alone, protected by wolves?
I can see the sky outside a bit. It’s bare.
What a feeling this is. Uncertain and unsettled, but in good care.
Fire is comfort for my soul and my mind. I close my eyes.

The heat pressing my face, it got brighter even without sight.
I pray that you are alive and safe.
I hope you come back one day. But until you do. I’ll wait.
Here inside this cave, behind the wolves. In my sweater.
With my wine. With my tribe.  

Phone War

~ Emma ~ 1 Comment

Breaking up is hard to do you see.
I wrote a blog post about my phone.
Really wanted to say, “Adios buddy!”
But now here I sit, me plus phone much less lone.

Addicted, withdrawing, one more hit.
I like the feeling sometimes, when you get lit.
Although you give me much pleasure and delight,
I shall find a special and new place for you, just for tonight.

It’s not so bad, I can go seconds, minutes and hours, but can I go a day or two?
Without you there’s a void, and it sucks.
I’m filling it, filling it, filling it with all the things that I do.
But what if, just for fun, we played a little game called, “chuck it and run” or, “surrender to flux.”

Oh let’s play! It’s one of my favourite games I do say.
Energy and time and focus, now mine all mine.
I love this game because it gives the way,
To more fulfilling and appetizing things, to which I will dine and dine and dine.

Oh dear device, like a cat and mouse chase, except, there’s too many mice.
I will leave you alone to regroup and refresh.
I am taking the hiatus now too, less noise, less mess.
This time away from you, actually, turning into something very nice.

It’s good to change things around and make up your mind and stick.
I had an amusing time with this line, trying not to say dick.
Temptations and emotions and cravings abound.
You never even as much, utter a slight sound.

Phone you trick me, taunt me, lure me and haunt me.
How much longer can we go?
I plan to leave the country one day without you in stow.
I wish you had a real brain, like me, so we could experience more glee.

Ok, enough. I still think you are amazing.
The beautiful way you try to help and make life simpler and easier.
I will be thanking you for your gifts from now until the next phasing.
But I must admit dear phone, some things that you do, unfortunately, make life drearier.

So a little less contact, a little less checking.
There is nothing I will miss that cannot wait.
My mind and body and spirit very due, for less of a pecking.
Thank you. Grateful. You have been a Saint.

Goodbye for now, going to try something else.
Maybe I’ll walk or cook, or go for a swim.
No. I think I’ll paint. Paint with passion and heat so everything melts.
Yes. Painting. Painting is the better option for the win.

Fridge Talk

~ Emma ~ 1 Comment

You click and crack.
I swear to God I am going to snap.
What is wrong with you, do you need a nap?

You hold my nourishment and contain my fuel.
But all I feel like some days is that you just want to duel.

It is funny actually, how long I have left you ailing.
The days I intensely dream of sending you sailing.

Why all of a sudden are you speaking this odd language?
Did you take a class and get injured? Do you now need a bandage?

I cannot see or find the source of your injury, you cry out to me full of fury.
Just chill out for a minute, I will keep excavating your core.
I am literally now, sprawled out on the floor.

I think your sounds are a result of ageing.
The wrinkles and creases and misalignments obvious;
Yet still I stand in front of you questioning and gauging.

I cannot bear to part with you and your wonderful heart.
We have never really ever been apart.

Who or what will cool my cucumbers, freeze my berries and crisp my Ambrosias?
Do you have any idea what your absence will do?
I think I need Oprah!

I wish you would silence but, in a small and slightly messed up way,
I kind of want you to scream harder.
Tell me more and louder, so I can even hear you in the shower.

Dear fridge of mine, will you ever stop tapping, clacking and ticking?
If not, fret I will no more;
There has got to be someone who understands the nature of your fixing.

It’s a miracle. Your fixer has just appeared.
A solution you could not mention; heat.
You weren’t warm enough, the air around you was cold.
So your bolts and screws and panels had been achy and off kilter I have now been told.

What a strange phenomena. I adjusted my warmth and you began to heal.
And oh my, had I known it was this simple;
I would have jacked up the heat a hell of a lot sooner, given that a try.

I might actually miss your cracking noises, wishing in fact, they did not fade.
There was something about this peculiar several month long annoying event;
That has given me insight I cannot now trade.

The quirks of life, my fridge indeed not just an appliance but a tool for guidance.
I am paying close attention now to the broken fixtures, the ailing clocks, the halting of heat and time and the sudden shifts in temperature.
I am forced to examine the science and wisdom of noise…and silence.
This might just be, an overture.

No coincidence broke my clocks, injured my fridge, stopped the flow of heat.
And not by chance did I say your name and one hour later we are to meet.

I love your invitations, thank you for letting me see.
Something so beautiful and important that now and forever;
It will be impossible to not ever, not see.