Martin Embree

https://open.substack.com/pub/martinembree/p/hear-the-angels-sing?r=8bj0ff&utm_medium=ios&shareImageVariant=title

Hear The Angels Sing? Western / Slice of Life

https://substack.com/?invite

Martin Embree | Substack Poet, painter, bracelet maker. Enjoys writing Westerns and Sci Fi/Fantasy Writes poetry to cope with his mental condition and demystify the stigma surrounding it.

Interior

Whimsy.

Order can still be spontaneous. Even elevate one’s chaotic past teeming with regrets and shame.

Also I’m looking for readings on making abstract art, would love some recommendations.

Exploring geometric shapes

To Air,

It’s strange to write to you
The you all around me
The me constantly taking
The endless all encompassing you

I write to say I’m caring for a plant
A monstera gifted to me by my sister
I feel it purifying you around me
Forgive me for taking you for granted

A few days ago I got a chest X-ray
Part of my lung is folded
From what, I do not know
But I’m missing you more and more

From you I have life
Life has sound as I have a voice
One to laugh, cry, and sing
All these gifts from you

I’ll continue to sing
Until my lungs fail me
Each song is dedicated to you
Listen to me, while I’m here.

If Only

Ground down to dust and ash
If to eat a piece
Would grant me her grace
To see and hear her again
Returning to teach me…

I wish to learn to care for an injured bird
Making my skin comfortable again
To learn how to be the light in the room
That pierces through rain clouds
To shine on another’s lonely world
To learn how to be a badass bitch
Who is confident being in their 30s
Without a career or degree
To learn how to text her ex
To talk to her children
To sing Good Charlotte
With her once more
To see and hear
Her again
I wish

Rx

Past conversations
echo in the corner

A call light chimes
None can answer

My sister sings,
Gone too soon.

All without leaving my bedroom.
No meds left.

Desert Sunflower

Amidst the sand I dare to sprout
My golden petal bloom.
It’s true there’s one and not much else
The rest are buds or dead

Not from the lack of water, I
Had my fill, I don’t need
Much. I am glad to be alive,
How do I even thrive?

My life? beyond my mind but here
I am alive and dead.
Don’t cry for me, for what I lost,
Don’t you see I’m happy?

A few drops of rain go so far,
You’d drown me in your tears
Smile with me, why not pluck me
And share your life with me

The Moon, My Queen

I swear fealty to you
Basking in your kingdom
With my fellow knights
To your ever changing face
Serving all those who sleep

I stand with my fellow knights
Chimes played by invisible hands
Headlights passing by my drive
The low glow of a cigarette
Cries of a night train’s horn
Chill from the kiss of the wind
Rustling of leaves in the trees
Marching of tires on asphalt
Drifting, blinking lights of an airplane

Your knights stand to serve you
My bright pale Queen,
You and your loyal nobility
Of stars shining and unseen

We guard those sleeping
To face change as you do
With my fellow knights
Basking in your kingdom
I swear fealty to you

Compassion

What do I have to offer?
I hold no authority,
Just an empty coffer
Without any seniority.

The hand that heals you
Is the one on your wrist.
Have an issue? Get in queue,
Your name is on the list.

What do I have to offer?
An ear to listen
Eyes free of judgement
And humble recognition

Take that rock off your back.
Set it down next to me
And breathe.
Is it as heavy as it used to be?

What do I have to offer?
In throes of delusion
I’ll talk it out with you
And nudge you out of confusion.

When your voices torment
I’ll use mine to soothe
Reminding you their lies
And you have nothing to prove

What do I have to offer?
Reason to the mad
Ears to the overwhelmed
No judgments to add.

Why are you coming to me?
You must be desperate
I’ll give what I can
I’m only a man