Hindering Progress

Digging through ghostly shards

pummeling the words that shout from within

understanding too much,

the vice grip of constant anxiety

offers the spoken words access that no one can fully know.

 

I fight to voice what I mean,

but “Mindy” and “Rebecca” crash through

and grab the microphone from my hand

that finds tenuous comfort in the string

I wrap around and around like a carousel.

August, 2014

August, 2014

18 responses to “Hindering Progress

  1. Another extremely beautiful poem. I know just what you are saying, and I think you have a special gift for expressing things that i wouldn’t think words to be really even capable of saying.

  2. Melva Bucksbaum

    Dearest Beautiful, Brilliant Emma, Oh how I admire your intelligence and strength of character. Your friend, Melva

    Melva Bucksbaum Sent from my iPad

    >

  3. Stephanie James

    So beautiful and brilliant. Thank you for sharing your words with us, dear Emma. They mean so much to me.

  4. This is paige, typing now for my daughter Emma (emmasmiraclemusic). This is happening now to my daughter. She understands her algebra equation. The anxious thoughts in her mind are overwhelming her ability to filter out the answer, even though she sees it in a picture in her mind. She is currently focusing on words on a graph paper she asked me to write to calm her mind. It will sooth her soon, then she will go back to her work.

  5. So so beautiful and haunting and enlightening. I love your writing!

  6. your words touch me so deeply, emma. again, still, i am grateful.

  7. I once explained to my mentor–the only one who saw me inside–that I had made “copies” of what different emotions looked like in others. It wasn’t that I had “multiple personalities”, it’s that I could be Jiy from Tarzan in times of stress and had to yell out warning to others, or some other character that I had seen on TV who acted out what a different emotion looked like. By this time I was 20-something and still mirroring others because I was way deep inside still and non-expressive of self in a way anyone else could understand. I am now 53 and still find I mirror people, but must be careful– some people don’t like what they see in the mirror!

  8. So beautiful Emma as always!

  9. I know what you mean. It’s hard for me to sit back and enjoy when my life is checkboxes in my head. Also I sometimes get really anxious for no apparent reason. I continue to be impressed with you every post you make.

  10. We are so privileged, Emma, to get a glimpse of what it is like through your original and wonderful use of language. Thank you for all the effort it costs you to do so! ❤

  11. Reblogged this on bunnyhopscotch and commented:
    A beautiful post by Emma. And timely for me too… right now echoing with deep resonance inside my whirring Space of Mind… Thank you, once again, Emma!

  12. My son can speak fairly easily, but did not do so until after age 3 1/2 and now at the age of almost 15, words just do not always come so easily from his mouth. And yet, sometimes I am in awe of the picture he can paint with just a few words, because he has had to choose them so carefully. I have a friend who speaks 5 languages, but learned English later in life and so she, like my son, chooses her words carefully and articulates things so much better than I ever could. I see these words as pearls. They do not fall from the mouth, willy-nilly, but like pearls, they are formed by the oyster protecting itself, using nacre, which is not just a soothing substance, but is composed of “microscopic crystals of calcium carbonate, aligned perfectly with one another, so that light passing along the axis of one crystal is reflected and refracted by another to produce a rainbow of light and color.” I see your words as pearls, Emma, and am grateful that you share them.

  13. Gosh Emma, your words are so breathtaking. “Gosh” is such a lovely old-fashioned expression of delight and wonder. Innocent, direct and vulnerable in its sweetness. “Gosh” popped into my mind as I finished reading your spectacular poem. I wondered if it came from you–a residual radiation of your words–a golden gosh Easter egg gift your mind left for me. Gosh. Jeepers. Where’d you get those peepers? Where’d you get that mind?

  14. Does Emma like string? I see one in her hand – Alana loves string.

  15. I will have to look up those posts – would love to hear her insights and share them with Alana. Alana and Emma seem to have quite a bit in common!

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