It was good times the stillness the silence,
I was under a single tree, leafs fell but in
autumn colours. I was at peace in this
Serene place of my ideal thoughts.
No senses needed but what was around.

Words were silence, I had no need for the
Use of a living phrases in this place.
The leafs were like silk hankies flowing in
The air then evaporate in misty hews.
Peace I felt as I watched endless ones fall.

But then it happened the pulling, it affected
The leafs no longer silk but as they descended
Skeletal remains that screamed as they touched
The ground. My silence was like an echo now
Of before so much noise, I covered my ears.

But I felt, no longer the peace of death, my
Solitude now compromised with a yearning
To go towards the place that I resisted for so long.
Why did I have to leave this place of my yearning?
I was enveloped my serenity now gone.

I was silent, but then I breathed. so long had
I not needed this reaction. But realization
Began to sink in. I was born, I screamed out
Blinded in this moment of rebirth.
"I miss the silence of death, now I am reborn.

Tethered to her, it enveloped her.
No harm even though in tattered
Relics of painted thoughts she saw.

She had called for him. She held the
Hand once known, "I love you,

But from peace it was pulled and
Now not as was before, but she
Still called it **"Father,

Vague shadows adorned her, always
In light stretching further than height.

"I asked her once! why do you look up?

He in tattered cloth looks over me, his shadow
Hides me from those who would wish harm!

"Who would harm my baby,

She whispered and pointed, those unseen.

I felt a sleeted touch, but then warmth,
As if a veil of what I had been unsure of lifted.
Then I noticed flickering's and my angel spoke

"Mummy look your shadow is like mine,

I looked up and saw this ominous figure, I reached
Up but its hand gently held mine, its head shook
Its touch was warm and calming.

It gestured a uttering word as a finger in a straight line
Covered its mouth.

Ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

It pointed to my daughter in silence.

I looked at her and saw what she had seen *"I was silent.

Each day she posed naked
As he continued to paint
Engrossed in the picture
She was twenty to his fifty
But his age never upset her
In truth, she was falling for him

He never attempted to ****** her
As if he ignored her body
Maybe she was not beautiful enough
She knew he lived all alone
He never shared his home
If he asked, she would be his

She tried to show temptation
Wanting him to notice her
No matter how much she showed
The curves of her body
He would just keep painting
As if he never noticed her there

On the last day she could take no more
"Am I not beautiful in your eyes
Can you tell I desire you
I would do anything you ask
If it be only for one night
I am yours if you want me"

"You are young and beautiful
Your beauty will be seen forever
In this painting, In your honour
But I loved so very long ago
I lost her to Mistress Death
My heart belongs to her, always"

~ Otto Dix Plate 22 ~

Each night I meet myself in nightmares
I am my own enemy fighting in No-man’s land
I am material and real, yet I barely exist
in my imagination.

There is nothing whole and complete
nothing has retained its shape or structure
everything is splintered into surfaces
in my imagination.

There can be only shreds and shards
only textures, hard lines and spaces
where white light can dance free
in my imagination.

Each night I crawl through ruined houses
along dark passages that close me in
dropping to bottomless depths of myself
in my imagination

There are only axons and dendrites in my mind
electric sparking, all atoms in a crystal night
a grasping hand, a gaping eye disconnected
in my imagination.

Each night I try to find myself in nightmares
I am my own enemy fighting in No-man’s land
I am dark energy and matter, yet I barely exist
in my imagination.


© M.L.Emmett

To end this, is to run blindly - falling
loose limbs wild and flailing
with hands that can no longer grasp
a saving grace, a final branch
we are lost in desolation
it is pure wilderness
a long winter's night
with no path or tracks
to follow, cold like snow
we plow this landscape, barren
deep and dark below
to seep into the soul
lingering long in limbo
the ache of holding on
transformed into
the pain of
letting go

It is possible to live
at a remove so mesmerizing
so glacial blue
the narrow crevasse
opening beneath
your careless toes
swallows you
grinding past - present - future
until there is no you
only time
       a tumbled moraine
                               a shrinking river.

The winds gusted blowing that
Dam branch upon my window,

"Tap, "Tap, ".....Help,

I with hesitant breath move the
Drape, and see nothing but arched
Twigs teasing my window pain.

With relief I walk to the top of the
stairs, Hearing a knock on the door

"Tap,  "Tap, "......Help me,

I cling to the wall rising upon the spy
Hole to find only pitch darkness and
My heart relaxes its grip upon my throat.

I step upon the porch, unseen wire flaring
In the wind, like a viper encircling my throat.
I momentarily clasp the door and tap.

"Help me,

I'm picked up like a doll as the wire entailed
Upon the tree thrashes me around, higher
it pulls. And a window I tap with gasping breath.

"Help........,

I know what happens as I lapse in to
unconsciousness, was it my imagination
Or did the drape move an obscured face.

"I was my own witness to my single moment,

I swing like a leave in the wind, hanging silent.
I am the last leaf to fall, cold and dead.