William David Maxwell
@emersynlaughs.bsky.social
Novelist, poet, lover of all things nature and a life filled with passion. 40s. All poetry posted is my original work.
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved.
"Twilight skies are my language of satisfaction for my senses. It remains a strong draw to me. The last gasp before night descends. I imagine it as a line of the ghosts of dawn taking their rest for the specters of the evening. There are roads there to travel, spells to chant, wonders to discover."
November 18, 2025 at 6:06 PM
"Twilight skies are my language of satisfaction for my senses. It remains a strong draw to me. The last gasp before night descends. I imagine it as a line of the ghosts of dawn taking their rest for the specters of the evening. There are roads there to travel, spells to chant, wonders to discover."
"Time doesn't travel. It waits. It touches us, the elect that created the idea. Leaving its mark, telling us nothing except the little things. The broad circle of history is a better metric. I wear a grin through the frost of years. Imparting the tales of a hundred nights too warm to fear the flame"
November 12, 2025 at 10:07 PM
"Time doesn't travel. It waits. It touches us, the elect that created the idea. Leaving its mark, telling us nothing except the little things. The broad circle of history is a better metric. I wear a grin through the frost of years. Imparting the tales of a hundred nights too warm to fear the flame"
"See the symmetry in how decay falls in degrees. I've written novels with my eyes in the light of the beauty in imperfections. Every blink is a sentence with each sigh you gift me. I pen a page. Sculpting art out of what you call flaws because I love them. You don't contain the climax behind doubt."
November 11, 2025 at 3:05 PM
"See the symmetry in how decay falls in degrees. I've written novels with my eyes in the light of the beauty in imperfections. Every blink is a sentence with each sigh you gift me. I pen a page. Sculpting art out of what you call flaws because I love them. You don't contain the climax behind doubt."
"Come down from the heavens and cover the ground in your bounty of white. Hail Ullr, Lord of Winter. My heart for blessed Skadi of eternal memory. The morning hush of wet snow before the sun shines to do battle with it. I lounge in the gift of seasons that move and live and grow in the awareness."
November 9, 2025 at 6:04 PM
"Come down from the heavens and cover the ground in your bounty of white. Hail Ullr, Lord of Winter. My heart for blessed Skadi of eternal memory. The morning hush of wet snow before the sun shines to do battle with it. I lounge in the gift of seasons that move and live and grow in the awareness."
"Come sit with me in the cold of morning warmed by the returning sun. Share my breath in the haze that heat and mirage waves can produce. I offer closeness, relief for pain, and salve for sorrow. Hope without a bill that comes due. It is how I'm built, the result of grasping for sensory truths."
November 6, 2025 at 2:42 PM
"Come sit with me in the cold of morning warmed by the returning sun. Share my breath in the haze that heat and mirage waves can produce. I offer closeness, relief for pain, and salve for sorrow. Hope without a bill that comes due. It is how I'm built, the result of grasping for sensory truths."
"Autumn winds blow, and I absorb their touch under a returning sun. Lavish in my Midwest love for all of the seasons. The scent of fallen leaves and the irony of loving the gifts of decay. Stolen kisses in the pumpkin patch with heated love in the dried corn fields. Seeds are eternal."
#emeotry
#emeotry
October 27, 2025 at 7:11 PM
"Autumn winds blow, and I absorb their touch under a returning sun. Lavish in my Midwest love for all of the seasons. The scent of fallen leaves and the irony of loving the gifts of decay. Stolen kisses in the pumpkin patch with heated love in the dried corn fields. Seeds are eternal."
#emeotry
#emeotry
Tis the season 🖤
October 25, 2025 at 2:20 AM
Tis the season 🖤
"A sky of transcendental vision above. My heart full of Whitman and acorns beneath my feet. Join me, loving mine. To make our lives gleam in the eyes of the gods. I'll be apples, and you'll be pears today. Us under the boughs having a taste test to find out which of us is the sweetest meal to savor"
October 24, 2025 at 8:44 PM
"A sky of transcendental vision above. My heart full of Whitman and acorns beneath my feet. Join me, loving mine. To make our lives gleam in the eyes of the gods. I'll be apples, and you'll be pears today. Us under the boughs having a taste test to find out which of us is the sweetest meal to savor"
"Being a creature of the wild woods and wildflower bedecked prairies, I still cherish the insides of buildings. Not for their contents. Not for the scattered tables or shelves or chairs. I'm most focused on ceilings and floors. To my eyes, they represent where you are going and where you have been."
October 20, 2025 at 5:13 PM
"Being a creature of the wild woods and wildflower bedecked prairies, I still cherish the insides of buildings. Not for their contents. Not for the scattered tables or shelves or chairs. I'm most focused on ceilings and floors. To my eyes, they represent where you are going and where you have been."
"Dear one, needy can be many things. You'll see it on film, in poems, scattered in books. Not as raw as you or as open as me. Today, you asked for this. So for us, it is this quiet space and concrete floor. The blossoms on your flesh are well-earned and precious. We go deeper still."
#emoetry
#emoetry
October 17, 2025 at 5:01 PM
"Dear one, needy can be many things. You'll see it on film, in poems, scattered in books. Not as raw as you or as open as me. Today, you asked for this. So for us, it is this quiet space and concrete floor. The blossoms on your flesh are well-earned and precious. We go deeper still."
#emoetry
#emoetry
"What has passed beneath these trees? My aching words and strident heart. The youth envisions the man he will be in the evening. Autumn splendor changes as he learns a poet's penance. Looking at the sky more than his sharp boots. To dare to rise higher than the dirt at his feet. An open path to be."
October 16, 2025 at 8:54 PM
"What has passed beneath these trees? My aching words and strident heart. The youth envisions the man he will be in the evening. Autumn splendor changes as he learns a poet's penance. Looking at the sky more than his sharp boots. To dare to rise higher than the dirt at his feet. An open path to be."
"The crisp chill of a fall morning and gentle rain sets my heart free. To pass the moments with the feel of my own mortality. Loving without care or apology. True to my list of honour. Thankful for the comfort of dust from the road that carries me to my hearth. Have a seat next to my fire and rest."
October 15, 2025 at 1:14 PM
"The crisp chill of a fall morning and gentle rain sets my heart free. To pass the moments with the feel of my own mortality. Loving without care or apology. True to my list of honour. Thankful for the comfort of dust from the road that carries me to my hearth. Have a seat next to my fire and rest."
"Untold years pass with me on this ball of soil and water. I explore the wilds of nature and the space between a kiss and a harvest. What can be born from spirit chemistry in a glance. My efforts won't change the world, I try to help one soul at a time. Be the light when they stumble in the dark."
October 14, 2025 at 11:44 PM
"Untold years pass with me on this ball of soil and water. I explore the wilds of nature and the space between a kiss and a harvest. What can be born from spirit chemistry in a glance. My efforts won't change the world, I try to help one soul at a time. Be the light when they stumble in the dark."
"Come dance the masquerade, bring your truth behind the mask. Don't quibble over facades. It isn't a shock to see drama in the performing arts of interactions. The amount of brass I've been sold that claimed to be gold would fill your living space. It makes you value the real hiding in plain view."
October 14, 2025 at 11:26 PM
"Come dance the masquerade, bring your truth behind the mask. Don't quibble over facades. It isn't a shock to see drama in the performing arts of interactions. The amount of brass I've been sold that claimed to be gold would fill your living space. It makes you value the real hiding in plain view."
"I know the thoughts of the ghosts in the fields. My lips form their names in the afternoon quiet, with the wind for company. Phantoms of the land, with the #ash beneath the soil for a legacy. We exchange gossip forming a bridge between astral and earthbound. They don't lie to me. The living do."
October 8, 2025 at 8:57 PM
"I know the thoughts of the ghosts in the fields. My lips form their names in the afternoon quiet, with the wind for company. Phantoms of the land, with the #ash beneath the soil for a legacy. We exchange gossip forming a bridge between astral and earthbound. They don't lie to me. The living do."
"My clash is with myself. Youthful laughter with hidebound eyes and a soul that makes ancient seem a child. Simple wants that sing of a countryside practicality. Oceans of depth decorated with kaleidoscope colours. A man outside the borders of conventional time. The solitary spirit in a lost movie."
October 7, 2025 at 3:44 PM
"My clash is with myself. Youthful laughter with hidebound eyes and a soul that makes ancient seem a child. Simple wants that sing of a countryside practicality. Oceans of depth decorated with kaleidoscope colours. A man outside the borders of conventional time. The solitary spirit in a lost movie."
"The harvest has come with the bounty of autumnal riches. Wights of home and hillside cluster closer to the hearth. A fog rolls in as the temperature lowers in the pumpkin patch. Walk the rows with me of dried out corn husks. Hum a spell of remembering beneath a moon shining pale lingering orange."
October 7, 2025 at 3:29 PM
"The harvest has come with the bounty of autumnal riches. Wights of home and hillside cluster closer to the hearth. A fog rolls in as the temperature lowers in the pumpkin patch. Walk the rows with me of dried out corn husks. Hum a spell of remembering beneath a moon shining pale lingering orange."
"A kiss for me isn't just the pressing of lips. I want your breath to enter my lungs and rattle about with your life. My need is to sleep in your heart on a bed made of our conviction. The scent of you immersed into my skin, more known to me than my own. We join under the sheets like clouds merging"
October 7, 2025 at 1:19 AM
"A kiss for me isn't just the pressing of lips. I want your breath to enter my lungs and rattle about with your life. My need is to sleep in your heart on a bed made of our conviction. The scent of you immersed into my skin, more known to me than my own. We join under the sheets like clouds merging"
"She is the sunlight reflecting on the lake between the lily pads. Ruined makeup with a triumphant grin and trembling for all the right reasons. A table covered with #pulp novels and a faint hint of incense. Short skirts and long socks. You don't contain her. You set her free to show you the way."
October 3, 2025 at 1:10 PM
"She is the sunlight reflecting on the lake between the lily pads. Ruined makeup with a triumphant grin and trembling for all the right reasons. A table covered with #pulp novels and a faint hint of incense. Short skirts and long socks. You don't contain her. You set her free to show you the way."
"Few ventured into the deep woods because of a primal wariness in their bones. A sense of something other that didn't take kindly to intrusion. There is fae wildness that laughs at our new world. I feel at home there. My spirit is a hedge magic bloodline of madness and truths won at cost"
#emoetry
#emoetry
October 3, 2025 at 12:59 PM
"Few ventured into the deep woods because of a primal wariness in their bones. A sense of something other that didn't take kindly to intrusion. There is fae wildness that laughs at our new world. I feel at home there. My spirit is a hedge magic bloodline of madness and truths won at cost"
#emoetry
#emoetry
"I greet the sunrise like a talisman against the devouring dark. Hands reaching up to clasp the brightening sky like a cherished heirloom of kindly ancestors. Eyes taking in everything before the sun rises enough to sting my vision. Whispering to the dawn about the evening previous, a sages story."
October 1, 2025 at 11:39 AM
"I greet the sunrise like a talisman against the devouring dark. Hands reaching up to clasp the brightening sky like a cherished heirloom of kindly ancestors. Eyes taking in everything before the sun rises enough to sting my vision. Whispering to the dawn about the evening previous, a sages story."
"The seasons move, and we find ourselves hand in hand in the company of birch trees. We carry the gleam in our eyes that is the same fire the witches danced around. Ancestors of ashes who nourished the soil we sprang from. You can count the runes and acorns beneath our feet. Hear our synced hearts."
September 28, 2025 at 3:10 PM
"The seasons move, and we find ourselves hand in hand in the company of birch trees. We carry the gleam in our eyes that is the same fire the witches danced around. Ancestors of ashes who nourished the soil we sprang from. You can count the runes and acorns beneath our feet. Hear our synced hearts."
"I bring the radiant heat to warm your cold hands on the furnace of my flesh. You come to me, all lace and flashing eyes. Red knees and the smell of nail polish, with the overripe curves I crave always. There's a little bit of bliss in knowing what you need, then handing it to you freely."
#emoetry
#emoetry
September 28, 2025 at 2:45 PM
"I bring the radiant heat to warm your cold hands on the furnace of my flesh. You come to me, all lace and flashing eyes. Red knees and the smell of nail polish, with the overripe curves I crave always. There's a little bit of bliss in knowing what you need, then handing it to you freely."
#emoetry
#emoetry
"Give me those French songs that feel like walking on a narrow street with old signs and cigarette smoke. The clip-clop of expensive shoes on neglected roads that linger like loneliness. It has a bounce to it, a cadence which is blissfully European. You hear it in waves. You watch it in silence."
September 25, 2025 at 5:27 PM
"Give me those French songs that feel like walking on a narrow street with old signs and cigarette smoke. The clip-clop of expensive shoes on neglected roads that linger like loneliness. It has a bounce to it, a cadence which is blissfully European. You hear it in waves. You watch it in silence."