Fear

Freeze Frame

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Stuck in the age of Covid-19, racing to nowhere except a way out of this box to which the world has been condemned, a prison cell of prevention, or not, for those unlucky thousands who carry coronavirus with them to their graves, leaving the rest of us to worry about droplets lingering for days on Amazon delivery boxes, empty grocery store shelves, dirty gas pump handles, or our own Fido’s nose, even a child’s hand fresh from a playground jungle gym when the real jungle is Mother Earth spinning in all her infected glory, laughing as she twirls leaving that voice message that cries, “I told you so.”

—Victoria Emmons, copyright 2020

Batter Up

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Cries from a bleacher 
Fan of a different stripe 
Hoots and waves
Shouts to the team

Shout and Shot easy to misspell
Hate not as easy to dispel
Hate upon a field of play
Play just for fun

Play no more, run and hide
Hide and seek metal
Metal that flies
through flesh

Flesh and blood 
Blood-stained second
Second on to third
Third straight to home run

Run for your life
Live. Love.
Pursuit of happiness.
Pledge of Allegiance.

Round the bases
Popcorn, peanuts
Hot dogs, beer 
Fans who cheer

My Country ‘Tis of Thee
Innocence lost in uncivil 
discourse, lost to ugly shouts
When shots rang out.

–Victoria Emmons, 2017

Hide

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Dawn foretells reason and points life
into the unknown. Fantasy is easy in
the darkness when the exuberance of
friends who may not be friends
overtakes my soul, rides along a rail of desire,
hope and pleasure if only for a moment.
Hide the truth from no one but myself since hiding
offers temporary relief. How do I live with constant
grief and still live to see the new morning?
Stay silent in my loneliness so that
peace surrounds me and everyone is calm.

 –Victoria Emmons, Copyright 2015

In Air

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A very bumpy plane ride
Makes me rethink my priorities

It happened once before
An hour out of Houston

Fire in the cargo hold
The pilot told us

Life flashed before my eyes
Nothing I could do

Except be grateful
My kid was not there

If life is to end on an airplane
It should be romantic

Shouldn’t it?
Or at least over Bermuda

But Odessa, Texas?
Not too sexy, I think

Nothing to be done
Except imagine

What novels be written
Or poems to create

Were I to live
What shall life entail?

The skies are full of danger
Bumps and grinds galore

I feel the end is nearing
And what have I to show?

Hurry up now, dearie,
For your time is short

The bumps are even stronger
And the sounds very coarse

Clouds do not obey
Their master or even pretend

Every glass defies its space
Upon my dinner tray

All I can do is think of you
And how we are no more

This flight has me in ecstasy
Of purpose going forth

For I am free of thee
Free of me

My life is holding court
Judging all that is

As bumps and grinds
Take me onward

This plane in control
And I am not

My mind expands
And as we land

I am down to Earth
Once again

A normal being
Life without trauma

Life just another
Bumpy plane ride

—Victoria Emmons © 2015

White Horse

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Rescue me, mon ami,
from the debris of life
save me from the
threads that weave
my heart to yours

I need saving now and then
my head is tired and
my body aches for you
to save me some day
on your white horse

I’m not your Fairy Godmother
flying in and out of your life
to save you from yourself
I carry no magic wand
to make it all better

I can only offer one gift
my eternal love for you
wretched soul that you are
so rescue me, mon amour,
save me from myself

–by Victoria Emmons, © 2014

Open Doors for Baudelaire

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BaudelaireI will not be ruled by my cat. No more is he allowed to curl up in the warmth of my lap. No longer is he invited to live under my roof. I brought him home five years ago when he only seven weeks old. The cute, little champagne kitten stood out from the rest of the litter in the cage that day. I only needed one kitten. That’s all. But the volunteer with the pet shelter convinced me I should have a pair. This kitten would need a playmate, she advised.

I have had cats for over half a century. I know all about cats. Or so I thought. I did know the volunteer’s suggestion had merit. Kittens like to play with one another, especially when I am off at work and they would be otherwise all alone. Having a playmate helps keep them from climbing curtains, scratching furniture and other untoward behavior.

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Never Ever Land

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Rage washes over me
Like the river on the rocks
In a Montana woodside walk
Through the chapters of my life

A wistful rage if there is one
This deep acceptance of what is
And not what I dream it to be
In my world of friendship and love

Clouds produce tears on my head
Just as I drop tears of regret
Droplets of remorse and sorrow
Of what would never be, nor should

My brain will not think otherwise
As the logical mind speaks truth
Yet my heart plays with fancy
Until it finally cracks in two

So drawn to he who can
Charm the world and me
Into believing him and his lies
Loving each moment of untruth

Like a snake charmer, he curses
Those who fall into his slithering trap
Never to escape the dread
Pain and horror of it all

He lies again and again while smiling
Believers follow his lead to nowhere
Praise and adore him, laugh forever
At his brilliance and polish

Rage lies deep within, seething
Flooding every vessel
Until a poison develops
Moving like fire to my head

Tears and sweat dance cheek to cheek
Seeking solace as they pool in my palm
The sultry heat of summer is
Unbearable for this new reality

Uncertainty is my certain future
A crown of Never Ever Land
To place upon my dripping brow
And hide all the rage inside

–Victoria Emmons
Montana, 2014