Hello. It’s you again.


Knock, knock! Well hello there, it’s just me again,

thought I’d stop by to see how you have been.

You didn’t think that I’d be gone forever now?

As if I could just wander off or vanish somehow?

So you withheld me from your Doctor, of mental health?

it doesn’t negate the fact that you talk to yourself.

So they don’t know that I exist at the worst of times?

When all sobriety did was suppress some of the signs.

But eventually, they’ll see us talking and ask what is wrong,

only so many times can we say that we’re mumbling a song.

We envy those who can depict what is real and what is made up,

always on the edge of our seat ready to apologize for a mix-up.

Was this all a dream? Or did that really happen?

A back and forth game of ping pong, I am constantly trapped in.

Is this all too much for you? Since you thought I was absent?

a lot like your heart, there is no possibility for our detachment.

You may think I was created from too much Lysergic acid diethylamide,

Truth being, I’ve always been here and will always be by your side…


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Digging in the wrong direction


I scratched and I clawed my way, several feet up

intuitive, survival instincts had quickly kicked in,

I punched my way through the tamped surface

a ghost of a chance, that I’d let the Devil win.

As I rose up to the surface en route towards the stars

I could feel the chill wind blow against my face,

I looked beside me as I detected a slim glimmer

a headstone reflecting the moonlight in my space.

My name delicately written in a standard Celtic font

my birthdate and yesterdays are joined by a dash,

every sense leaves me in the pulse of my heartbeat

as it feels that my presence turned to dust in a flash.

Too late for regrets, and denial is too long overdue

to die with great dignity and respect I cannot save,

I just have to lie with the realization that I,

have wasted my entire existence digging my grave.


Posted by on March 21, 2018 in poetry, Uncategorized, writing


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You can’t keep it down


You cannot just hurl your problems down river,

not like someone else will take claim to them.

You cannot just lock the vexation away in immure,

it’s just not viable to have, your shame condemned.

They will softly flow downstream nearing a waterfall,

it’ll seem like this verse has reached its denouement,

it’ll be free for a moments time before it crashes below

until its tumbled and pummeled in sadistic enslavement.

Even after all the torture, it has submissively endured,

the inevitable motion makes the effort seem worthless,

as there is no use in fighting the mighty force of buoyancy,

behind the cowardice, you can’t hide, as it comes to the surface.


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Cherish brevity. Covet not quixotic.


Our fists clenched, shaking ’em at the sky,

with a flood of irrational emotions, we cry.

Damn this existence of human life’s brevity,

We marvel the idea and covet longevity.

What would we do with an eternity, if we had it all?

We couldn’t enjoy memories, there’d be too many to recall.

Truth being, the only way you can appreciate life, or love anything,

is the notion that you can easily lose it, as it dangles from a string.

It’s just a fact that you long for more time only because it’s not infinite,

If you could say “I love you” for eternity, would you ever really say it?

It’s just the way it goes and there’s no way to stop the motion of science,

the stages are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and vital acceptance.

As we grieve the end of a loved one’s journey,

hopefully, you spent that time as you both had wished,

as you recall all the great times, that used to be,


if forever were possible, it may not have been so cherished.



© 2018 Joseph Emerson @


Posted by on March 18, 2018 in Family, love, poetry, Uncategorized, writing


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Intergalactic Escape


You ever get that cosmic feeling,

as if planetary was just not heavy enough?

Not in like an extraterrestrial sense,

more along the lines of hopelessly in love.

When you just can’t find the right word,

to eagerly explain, exactly how you feel.

“I love you just seems so redundant”- she said

“it’s desensitizing to me, and I just can’t deal”

So I set out into the universe to find a new word,

to explain the butterfly feeling that flutters inside,

The problem is I think I had taken too long

I resurfaced to your response “I, have nothing left inside”

I’m so blind to have not noticed, I missed all the signs,

too tired to fight and too dignified to plead,

hindsight, my galactic journey was out of this world

sometimes from love, it’s the escape that you need.



© 2018 Joseph Emerson @


Posted by on March 18, 2018 in love, poetry, Uncategorized, writing


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I’m Living by YOURself image​


I sit and fret avidly and actively feeling sorry for myself

pose, established precisely around the status quo,

recommended requirements for what I must and mustn’t,

from the opinions of those, I don’t ever wish to know.

So what if they think, I’m corny, nerdy, and overweight?

Their own insecurities surface as they poke fun or tease

The only thing that truly matters to me is when I’m home,

my lover is impatiently waiting, to give me a squeeze.

Problems that we have in present day are not even “real”

these so-called issues we have will halt all motivity,

the youth of today will ultimately not know how to feel

social media suppresses and stunts the growth of creativity.

Okay, okay.  I do see that it opens doorways to opportunity,

It is also much faster and easier to get your content out,

the downside is, it inadvertently creates specific guidelines

which in turn crushes you, with apprehension and doubt.

So in perpetuum,  I catch myself feeling beaten up and down

buying into the phony framework made by the swanky jet-setter

forgetting who I am inside, and what really makes me happy,

the sooner I realize this obstacle, the sooner I can feel better.


© 2018 Joseph Emerson @


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It’s okay to shut up


Why be, if you cannot just be?

why look, if you cannot see?

why bother, if you do not care?

keep your foot in your mouth,

if you want to be fair.

You do not always have to speak.

It is not a rule that you must engage.

If pretension of attention is what you seek,

then join a musical, if you desire a stage.

But you can leave me the hell out of it.

As I didn’t ask to be the butt of your joke.

You could probably remove the foot now,

although I’d love to see you choke.



© 2018 Joseph Emerson @


Posted by on March 17, 2018 in Uncategorized, My day, writing, poetry


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