Interjection!

I am enslaved
in under three days
of the sun circling
my beaten bosom
affection slapped me
across my pretty face
unexpectedly
I have awoken
to an interjection!
an empowerment!
an unknown shadow
cast by the beginning
of a beautiful new day

I Just Can't Sleep

"I just can't sleep, I just can't sleep."
Great grandmother Westcott cried out
pacing the shag carpet
her soft dogs padding below
grinding universal empathy
not even god could put her down
alert and alive, my heart paced with her
"I just can't sleep, I just can't sleep."
words on repeat, like a broken record
thinly worn from being played in rotation
not through the turntable this time
no, through the mechanics of a mind
determination unscratched
plagued, we lie in our graves together
"I just can't die, I just can't die."

Stranger

let me infiltrate you
as you have me so quickly
you play it cool, calm, collected
embracing me so eloquently
I am a stranger
a slave
a fool
a woodland nymph
a lotus rising up from the mire
gingerly playing
in a wonderland
with the blood of a warrior
irrationally I am caught
brilliantly I am lit
penetrated by creation himself

Submission

sprinkling a fine dust
among the darkness
you lift pain and non purpose
from thunderhead
invading my dreams

standing before you
pleasure and pain
dissolves scars
buried deep in delicate mind

submerging
I feel my toes curl

I longed for you
to taste my vulnerability
wet with adoration

I have found predominance
and humanity
wrapped in the scent of a you

Lawn Mower Men

strangest thing
lawn mower men are out
on a rainy Tuesday
engines roaring
outside my bedroom window
their blades cutting
sweet wet grass
they blow the leaves
into wet piles of disease
their engines reek of oil
sick and slick
it's not everyday
that the men arrive
but they do

God Be Damned

my britches have outgrown me
their bottoms hit the floor
their cuffs bellow like denim bells
they roar like once before

I retreat into a child like form
that of a tiny orange kitten
held in the palm of her master
disciplined with affection

the kitten performs tiny acts
comforted by her keeper
god be damned that he
creates through the extension of me

Life and Love

hot towels wrap my feet
in love and heat
they trip upon the sidewalk
shaking my core belief
it is only you my lover
who can strip me clean
of my consciousness
who can nurse me back
to my true heart
ripe with life
where arteries flow
blood moving onward
I am like a child
begging for your nourishment
ready to please
the behaviors of a madman
at the will of the gods above
who laugh and play with me
they wrap my feet
and bind us in love and heat

Resurrection

longing for resonance

dark spills more silence 

as I lay on my back

with arms wide open

palms facing up

like Christ taking refuge

I combat his insanity 

left with my thoughts

stab myself repeatedly

ears become a bloody pulp

crowned in golden roses

the thorns dig in to my skull

muted and pressured

by simply the silence 

resurrected 

Humanity

humanity dragged me across my twin bed
slapping my face and breasts
his nasty tongue swirling rapidly inside my mouth
a sadist dressed as pain

humanity then kissed my fears
taking away all my tears and suffering
his kisses of fresh rain water hydrated my heart
a lover dressed as pleasure

Both lingering on the other

Poetry In Motion

when in tune
I feel you
as if I were
your poetry in motion
just like the tattoo
eloquently stenciled
on your soft shoulder
you wear me well
always lingering
my arms are tingling
sensation starts
in upper torso
climbing me like the ivy
that wraps summer trees
along a desolate highway
it is in this blanket of green
I am allowed to breathe

Rain

it taps but doesn't tap
not really
it drips in random rhythm
like my own ill thoughts
unfixed, intermittent
they leap like frogs
who appear within
without designation
grasping for truth
in an unjust world
wet with chaos
comforted by a lullaby
ribbiting freely in the rain

Nazi's and Jews

During 3rd and 4th grade my parents sent my brother and I to Mariposa School in California. Mom was a sign language interpreter at the time and one of her deaf kids also went to Mariposa so she exchanged our tuition for doing the work with the deaf kid at the school. The school was interesting. There was a yurt on the grounds and an amazing playground with tire swings and an army net for climbing, this was prior to the fancy playgrounds that are made today for children. We would meditate with the teachers in the yurt.

The teachers themselves were very unusual, they all lived on the school grounds in smaller yurts. Most were lesbian women and in the summertime shirts were optional for the teachers. School would not be in session but when you went for a visit in the summer to the farm that was also on the grounds, the women would be shirtless. Boobs were everywhere bouncing all over the place, feeding the farm animals, milking the goats, cooking dinner for the community (it was pretty much a commune.) One woman was called Sage Mountainfire and she was a larger lady, us kids called her knee knockers because without a shirt her long boobs would reach down touching her knees as she sat in circle time which was basically just a down time, sort of like meditation.

One of the cool factors about the school is we would go on long field trips with the teachers. Imagine 2nd and 3rd graders on a camping trip for 5 days straight hours from home with teachers and chaperones. On one trip, they were trying to teach us kids about isolation and learning how to love ourselves when we were alone. They dropped off each kid at a camping site in the woods about 100 feet away from each other. So crazy because this was 1984 and at that time, kids were left alone everywhere. That could never happen in these times. My alone time was spent watching ants march on logs and recording the things I heard and saw in a journal. I couldn't see another kid in site because they were so far away. Mostly I was bored to tears as I would have preferred playing with other kids. On the same field trip we went to Bodie, a ghost town in California and to Mono lake. Mono lake is so beautiful. It has these structures that are similar to underground caverns in Virginia. Only they rise above. The lake itself is 760,000 years old, it's ancient and when you are there it's like you landed in an alien world.

Also on this field trip was the first time I saw another girl's vagina. I was in 3rd grade but because I was so advanced in school and mature I was put with the 4th and 5th graders. We would all play truth or dare when left alone, about 15 kids. One of the 5th graders was dared to show her private part and it was the first time I had ever seen another girl nude. I was amazed because she was very advanced and as a 5th grader, I saw pubic hair on someone else besides my mother for the first time. These kids were well beyond their ages because of their maturity and open upbringing, their parents were obviously hippies who brought them up alternatively and freely. Other games played were kissing and orgy games, where everyone would be kissing each other and fondling one another on top of their clothing. It was the first time I had been touched in my sex too. I remember being turned on in a strange manner.

Most of the kids were Jewish for some odd reason, the same with the teachers. So they were Jewish Lesbian Hippies. Because of the Jewish decent, us kids were taught a lot about War World II and the Holocaust. We read "Diary of Anne Frank", celebrated Passover and Hanukkah instead of Christian based holidays. I learned a lot there about an alternative oppressed history. Here's the best part, instead of playing cops and robbers or cowboys and indians we would play Nazis and jews sending each other to pretend concentration camps with larger then life German accents.

Little One

there were two kisses
approximately two
maybe three
felt upon my back
words cannot describe
what those delicate lips
left inside
they mumbled "little one" once
that was when I knew
love had finally arrived
during a three hour interlude
words were no longer important
words stopped forming
enjoying being within
the arms of perfection
a being brought by god himself
whose image appeared
approximately two
maybe three
times in another deep voice of an angel
tending my to my wounds
as I dragged my beaten knees across
a cold hospital floor
landing in security once more

Subterranean Tide

Hello Readers,

This is the close of Subterranean Tide and my final post. It's been a long 10 years since I started writing, I'm healing now and focusing on my life. I no longer want to be a tool in modern day technology. Those who know me understand me and my struggles. Those who don't, I hope you enjoyed the poetry. I hope to publish one day, see you outside. You can reach me via email at:

morpheusrevisited@gmail.com
or friend request me on FB: https://www.facebook.com/emily.l.ferrell

Fondly,

Emily

Empathy

fingers have extended into open barrels
knuckles are combusting oppression
pressure in the left ear reveals
kind voices discussing their target
the movements are out of my control
the jerk of my right leg startles me
foreign twinges envelop
I am stung by macro bees
who have spun their hive on the inside

The Language of Gods

the spirits spit out words
among gibberish
possessed we expel them
possessed by God
possessed by universal truth
rappers are the poets
poets are the rappers
music is the divine noise
subliminally we absorb
information processed
like machines
designated information
projects from our mouths
words reveal themselves
there is meaning
there is message
there is purpose
it is not until post ejaculation
all is revealed and conceived
I am God
You are God
we are all microcosms
of a stellar system
in sickness and in health
we speak and kiss in tongues

The Illusion of Truth

ambience knows me well
their music has played
for so long
their secrets are strong
like beautiful love letters
slipped inside colorful envelopes
addressed to future generations
skipping in a better world
disclosure is by choice
under illusion
of technical invasion
we are to submit to their whim
in this subliminal nightmare
thoughts are within

"Now I am become Death..."

they tell us half truths
based on half lies
played with our minds
when democracy died
slaughtered by extensions
of our very own creations
like the atom bomb's
Little Boy exploding
Fat Man's final meal
detonating ourselves
we are our own worst enemy
caught in a web of spiders

May Daze

in tall ship I ride, side by side
slaying all the monsters
winding through mazes
of bureaucratic bullshit

catching breath in fields of glory
individually we share a story
make love nakedly enjoying
each others outpouring

easily oppressed
hidden beneath niceties
of fancy hats and fountain pens
phony smiles a plenty

I sit and sail in artistic veil
expressing undercurrents
swirled with sensation
while others stand and sweat

Suffering

a moment of a contentment turning into a scream
watching mom disintegrate and bleed
internally from drone attack

sweat rolling of the back of shadows
strolling broken Iraq taking children by the hand
leading them across demolished land

a lonely soldier digging a hole
and making a home for weeks on end
with a cig or two in the middle of Afghanistan

genocide of masses in tribal classes
and no one gives a shit because they
could care less about an African mess

and me in my headphones drowning out the sound
pretending to wear a crown
with eyes wide closed and a magic wand

where I roam enchanted, hiding in my wonderland
with magic in tow and a fairy glow
sparkling among the rainbows of destruction

Purification

unbathed
I reign in my filth
a dirty girl once more
awaiting for my lord

somedays she is wrapped
in a blanket of sadness
other days she simply longs
to tip toe once more
naked across the floor

determined to never wash again
until she is with him
he will wipe the dirt of humanity
off her gently

lick upon her wounds
from the inside out
with an immaculate conception
that dries tears
and annihilates her fears

Psychosis

walking up to the 2nd floor
apartment 107 is locked
the flashing lights have stopped
they no longer call for the men
who raped me within

106 was open though
I found her in my madness
reclining in such sadness
beaten down by abuse
eyes stared at me familiarly

109 and 110 secured as well
leading me to the 3rd level
the black ladder of death
is cemented there in dirty carpet
tempting me to climb again

"I don't want this."
"I want to live!"
retreating to the bottom
down a spiral staircase
I rush back in to 007

turning into a child again
mom lifts me in
to a freshly drawn bubble bath
I am warm once more
away from the door

Communication

there is inspiration from the muse
there is execution from the artist
each share a great love
consummated through human kindness

so much isn't understood
by simple consciousness
genes are evolving
communication is changing

language is limited
deeply hidden within subconsciousness
spoken words are infantile
they play hide and seek in the dark

going against basic human understanding
they are the children
breathing energy in and out
on a red seesaw in the playground of mankind

The Alarm Clock

my heart
is like an alarm clock
one single, strong stab
wakes me from deep sleep
"ouch!" I yell
drooling on my pillow
the long arm of time
is ticking with music
looping around it's face
it experiments with the short hand
spiritually synchronizing
the strangest thing
this empathy was measured
just near midnight
the point at which
a new day is reborn
for one split second
sustaining life once more