#mire
mire is mire,
and has ever lain as mire.
yet what hand dares to sink,
and rive this woeful gyre?
what was ad before the mire?
did hands ever lure the quire,
or whorl within the abyme skein,
that scends beneath, and plaits the lyre?
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 10:06 AM UTC
I see her in smiles of the living room fens,
When sunlight hits wet on the mire.
Between the waves that lick the bights,
On the steeps of the fjords as sound.
In the vibrations of breezes on stamens,
Like a gentle resonance of pollen on pistils.
In the currents of a universe as a celestial,
Through these fluctuations as mysteries.
Deep out like some starry cosmos,
Far out like some alien culture.
On proverbial outskirts as hypothetical fringes,
As like waterfalls after rains have swelled.
By the puddles stirred together as unison,
In the droplets as ink splatters join paper.
Moon sets as like blues jazz records end,
On mornings mist full as classical pieces.
Like indescribable ideas as beautiful emotions,
When pebbles fall as sand by the ocean.
As worlds collide like harp concertos,
Through chords of movement as cell division.
For like den to hare as ribs to hearts,
Like mind to matter as sight for hawk.
Music of life,
How I long to sing with you
Into eternity & for perpetuity.
What is the song,
For but us as one?
To stand alone, together.
To be separate, nevermore.
To sit with ourselves, apart.
To be whole, hereinbefore.
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 1:17 PM UTC
Assertion
Clammed-up
On the relay
Second guessing
The shrunken head
Of old therapies
The clock says
It's time
To nod off
Greet the morn
With withered fist
Rationalised fury
Trying to
Replace the
Pimply face
Of ******
Angst baseless in
Content
On the tether
Of just another
Addiction in a
Succession
Of spiritual
Vices perpetuated
By the nonchalant
Visage of a world
Uncaring
In derision
From calloused hands
Caused by
Hard work
With little or no
Monetary avail
Hand to mouth
Foot in mouth
Hand on crotch
Crotch saddle sore
What's the point
Of a worn-down point
Dull but
Double-edged
Just to prove
The sword of Damocles
Is still hanging
Over the head
Of your enemies
Who pop
Their heads
Up over
The hedgerows
Like pictures
In a shooting gallery
At the carnival of
A battlefield distant
Filled with relics
Of another
Dead-end
Ill-purposed war
Of the worlds floating
On the crest of
Mine-dotted airwaves
Prompting viewers
To drown negativity
And to salvage
The positive
A broadcast from
Bipolar formats
In living colour
Double-edged
Double-standards
Double-dealing
Double-meaning
Double-minded
Double-jeopardy
Double-trouble
Double your money
Doppelganger leading
Double life
All propagated in
Double-time
Best
Double your efforts
And tune out!
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
Addled sapphire
blends with skies of
severed cerulean.
Morning dew tides
into my slivered lungs.
The mire, borne
from past reflections,
that snap from my memory
like broken ribbons.
Pastures of azure
amidst agony, frozen
within a monster’s jaws.
Its frostbite fades into my
veins.
Again, within these beryl
everglades cannot move.
I cannot see you.
Where have you gone?
This air, it blisters
Into my lungs and
benumbs me.
And still, I run.
Accept my feelings,
here and now.
And in parting, let me vow
that in a night
or in a day
if you vanish
or if you stay
in my death
when my flesh is gray
you will see me in your everglades.
I run
in search of you.
within the moor
and its creek of dreams.
lucent crystal cannot hold
my shivering bodies
it breaks beneath me.
bubbles. . . water. . .
flooding
flooding
flooding
into my body.
again?
Addled sapphire
blends with skies of
severed cerulean.
Morning dew tides
into my slivered lungs.
The mire, borne
from past reflections,
that snap from my memory
like broken ribbons.
Pastures of azure
amidst agony, frozen
within a monster’s jaws.
Its frostbite fades into my
veins.
Again, within these beryl
evergladesI can never move.
not truly.
I can never see you.
You are always gone.
This air, it blisters
Into my lungs and
benumbs me.
colder… colder
growing colder.
And still, I run
And still. I run?
Through the swamp
Through the trees
Through this forest
Of shattered dreams.
Why… do I run?
It’s not for father.
It’s not for mother.
It’s not for the godWho never bothered.
bones splinter into my feet
tattered teeth from
children’s skulls,
and broken cartilage fromah. I see.
this body isn’t just one of
mine,
It’s one of many.
hair, as fine as a violin’s
bow.
Feelings – left behind.
Somewhere.
Keen frost sinks in
its unforgiving fangs.
I succumb to the cold.
This Great Mire
consumes me.
again. again. again. again.
Addled sapphire
blends with skies of
severed cerulean.
Morning dew tides
into my slivered lungs.
The mire, borne
from past reflections,
that snap from my memory
like broken ribbons.
Pastures of azure
amidst agony, frozen
within a monster’s jaws.
Its frostbite fades into my
veins.
Again, within these beryl everglades
Enough.
Enough..
Enough!
Please.
I beg of you.
Enough is enough!
High above,
The harvest moon shines.
And I see it reflected,
within your scarlet eyes.
A face I cannot see,
Another mind, presented.
Like a dream within a
dream.
Residual thoughts tremor
Through lost woods
Of muddled blue.
You offer me a tome,
Bound in black stardust.
Its words its whispers
Like a serpent’s soft sigh.
“For each word that you
read,
You will yearn,
your blood will burn.
For my knowledge
Of perception.
Hand over your heart,
If you truly wish to learn.
It matters not how you
plead,
If you oblige by this
serpent’s creed.
Your only form of
payment is to bleed.”
Fooled by your black sugar
That covers my eyes
You tricked me.
For the tome that I opened,
its pages,
Much like my own soul,
Are vacant.
And the water floods into
My lungs
Again.
Empty words dissipating
Upon the surface of the
mire.
Addled sapphire
blends with skies of
severed cerulean.
Morning dew tides
into my slivered lungs.
The mire, borne
from past reflections,
that snap from my memory
like broken ribbons.
A child’s ribbon, torn from
her hair.
Ah.
I knew I had left these
thoughts,
Somewhere.
A book without words.
A mind without answers.
My tears hit the
parchment,
And text froths to the
surface.
A story.
I see a story here.
Its words reflecting
within shadows of blue-green.
And now,
Only now.
Do I see what you mean.
If I must repeat
This elegy.
If my pen cannot
Produce ink
Without agony is this vice worth taking?
And are these feelings
worth understanding?
Addled sapphire
blends with skies of
severed cerulean.
Morning dew tides
into my slivered lungs.
The skies are borne
from past reflections,
I can no longer remember
who the reflection is.
I have found myself,
Alas,
My soul remains,
Frozen within
This Elegy of the Glades.
My tears,
Turned to crystals
Within the mire.
Addled sapphire
blends with skies of
severed cerulean.
Skies that I reside within
Now, and forever
Feb 8, 2024
Feb 8, 2024 at 1:56 AM UTC
Longing for the land of my lineage
I am dying here, in Beggar Country
Here, where fools act the wise
Pseudo Intellectualism steadily on the rise
Where the disease celebritism has took hold
Forced out the tried and true for the shiny yet old
Where the idiom
The more things that change, the more remains the same
Is unquestionably fact
I long for Ireland
I long to go back
Give me land that's green
And rolling countryside
Give me tide to rival hell's fury
And people that mean well, amid gales so dreary
I miss fog
Like that kicked up by the mire
Give me land that's hungry
Give me people that's tired
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 1:53 AM UTC
Trois ans sans avoir relevé le défi;
Trois ans, c'en est presque mille,
C'est toute une vie;
Une vie qui se défile,
Qui se défile en nous voyant;
Une vie qui file pendant mille ans;
Mille ans à tirer dans le vide,
À tisser la mire.
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 11:33 PM UTC
There was a girl stuck in the mire and the muck
No one thought of her very much
They used
They abused
They did all they could do
To keep her down in that stew
Yet she forgave
She wouldn't cave
She still put good out
In the mists of her doubt
But she was still shunned
When she become undone
She would leave scars
Her body was marred
But still she pushed on
Hoping she was wrong
That love would shine
But love always left behind
More anger, and wounds
She was leaving soon
And one very lonely day
She decided she couldn't stay
She left her world of gray
She dusted off her wings, and just flew away
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
In the realm of rumour
wise men suggest
when it is dark enough
you will see the stars
In the fury and the mire of human veins
fragments of dreams and memories
used to spring loose
from my crowded mind
unsettled, darting dreams
shouting slogans in the noisy air.
In the kingdom
of saliva and dust
I have ceased to dream
And soon
I will soon cease
to exist.
© M.L.Emmett
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 9:58 AM UTC
I saw demise in her eyes
acceptance of a summarized
existence in this instance
incidentally its in stints
well baby take my hand and
we'll ride the intertwining serpentine
you feelin my energy in an instant
i feel
i know you missed this
lips reveal whats sealed from description
oh woe to words, absurd innately
oh woe to words' deceptive paintings
We owe an ode to the world, and im thinking maybe
its this moment
its this moment
in this moment I feel relative
in this moment, man, im so not relevant
what tomorrow holds, there is no tellin ya
weve only just crossed paths
yet Ive known you for millennia
Universal Invocations
serendipitous relations
deceitful daggers draped in red cloths
slash at eternal hearts carried by temporary raven claws
disperse
fall into insanity
and land in my lap of chance
no more wallowing in the mire
rhetorical kiaros at a glance
awake, shake these dreams from my hair
evaporate those inhibitions into thin air
exposed soul, open emotion to bare
tip-toeing the peripherals of Medusa's glare
convergence in a vicious cycle
vinyl in perpetual spiral, we rendezvous in eternity
convergence in a vicious cycle
vinyl in perpetual spiral, situated, stuck internally
Many moons might fall and several suns will set
but in this instance, together, we'll always be infinite
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
I thrive upon it,
And yet, it thrives upon me;
Grey muddle of life.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC