The good moments lost like a ghost ship at sea.
I am what i am.
I go unnoticed like the insects in your PB and Jam.
I'm practically a poltergeist.
No i'm not, I'm a silent ghost.
Caught by the tongue, but I have a sewn mouth
I'm stuck with myself like Hall and Oates.
Everything looks surreal.
Only because it is.
I have no definite form.
I'm not made of circles and squares.
just a bunch of concepts that society dissmisses.
I'm sitting, I feel serene while strangers keep looking at me
as if I bring despair.
Their perception is rigamortis in the electric chair.
Admittedly I seem as if I'm in disrepair.
Who or what am I?
I'm in every color as if I was a t-shirt getting tie-dyed.
The corner of the eye
A glimpse of a tail
A spot of ink by the gate
A call in the night
The whisper of a gale
A black cat's ghost
Haunting the garden at night
By the dragon lilies, beneath the vines
In the moonlight, sleek and lithe
Giving him form, giving him flight
Those green eyes piercing the dark
And right into your dreams
Sweet Fang, Halloween cat
Child of the pumpkin patch
The black earth embraced you that night you decided to leave
Within such a short spanse you took the leap
Back to the pit, petrichor released
Surrounded by family, said your farewells to those who love you so
Sweet prince, you will forever live by us and with us
Sweet Fang, Halloween cat
Child of the pumpkin patch
Black cats and cobwebs, things that go bump in the night
Little goblin of the fold, a shadow in the window
A creature 'neath the bed, in the cupboard scratching late
A caress of the hand, a curl at the feet
Come and go as you please, and join the phantom parade
By what Bast has blessed us but for a spot in timelessness
We thank Thee in the name of Satan for this creature of fang and claw...
Sweet Fang, Halloween feline
Child of the pumpkin patch
So you left paw prints upon our hearts
And though you are still with us
We miss your corporeal form
And now from whence you lay in majestic display
Shall spring forth a tribute to life
Even moreso than spectral glimpses
Oh, that look upon your face!
Burned with love on my mind!
All expressions in one, everything for all time!
Haunts the canvas of my mind
A growl of objection, frustration and fight
A mighty clinging to pleasure and life
Thy gentle black flame did roar in a Fyfe
And in bewildered visage, the fog did arise
The Devil came for his kind
Sweet Fang, Halloween grace
Child of the pumpkin patch
Black cats and cobwebs, things that go bump in the night
Little goblin of the fold, a shadow in the window
A creature 'neath the bed, in the cupboard scratching late
A caress of the hand, a curl at the feet
Come and go as you please, and join the phantom parade
Psalms sung with faith;
curses from the Father, the
Son, and the Holy Ghost;
rejoicing under the influence...
Nestled, numbed atop
heavenly clouds; two crazy
diamonds in the sky without
shine; rough edges can be
smooth again if both believe
they will shine again as one...
Clarifying the darkness both
entertain in the name of the
wicked that pace back and
forth outside the window of
time and space created by a
simple wish...
Invocations to God's shadow;
puppets to an addiction,
masters of enjoyed silence
listening to the symphony of
destruction...
I the Lizard Prince and my
Black Sheep traveling in the
dark under the sunlight too
steal our dreams back from
the sandman we both entered
in the years of our youth and
ignorant ways...
No King too hail; howling
under the moonlight, a lustful
night with love making in
between the stars, invoking
peace and harmony, with
conversations from the heart
bringing positive vibes and
synergy...
Alas, together we stand on
this mountain top, with hills
and more mountains too the
horizon; life does not come
without challenges, and
challenges do not arise
without taking the risk to fall
in love again...
Soulkriti©®2014
I dreamed of this boy,
In his red sweater.
I said it before,
Now he came back.
He is dead,
Lonely and sad.
"I can't help you,
It confuses me too!
Go find someone
Who can..."
I dreamed of this boy,
He said once more:
"I did found you,
And I want to play too!"
Untouchable
Unknowable
Intangible
Deeper darkness lurking in the twilight,
Murky depths, rejected by the sunlight.
Monsters creeping in the dark,
Gleaming eyes filled with savagery,
Mouths filled with glistening teeth.
I have walked amongst apparitions.
I have faced demons and gods.
No foe or ally is greater than myself.
The split, the divide, is as
Different as day and night,
Greater than the space
Between the darkest point of the ocean
And the stars. We exist
Between the realms.
Aware of both, grasping one,
Fearing the other,
When nothing truly exists.
For what is the self other than
A collection of thoughts,
Of ideas, a ghost?
(image from elle.com)
...........
Ignorance
......
Wasted portions of misunderstood and ignored knowledge
held for ransom, like a secret never told,
Stealthily gaining momentum
from its gravity turned stale, and time lapsed in hiding.
Soon sheethed in the murky shadows,
lurking in the zone of the unknown,
Waiting.
Wanting to free, but hopelessly shackled,
a hostage whose only solace is reveling in a newfound medium,
Somewhere between complacency and torment,
it gathers rapacious auric silt and slime,
Like the ghost of thoughts put to rest,
And stories never told,
Burgeoning.
It plays possum in the night,
only to keep a watchful eye
upon the Earth.
Devotion and loyalty to reticence
is its only oxygen in the struggle for freedom,
Befriended only by the sound---HUSH!
And speak, but only for the rebirth of itself,
At its core, once long ago, enlightenment, metamorphosed into
a haunting, churlish, savage scowl.
Rude.
Ignorance
is the tortured spirit of all things
misunderstood, held in secrecy,
the words and thoughts of the wolves
who walk with brazen ostenatiousness
in the sheep's hide.
07/29/2013
1:31 am
©
............
I have no proof for this event ..
fair to say it might never have been ...
All I have is these few stanzas
Conversations with a spirit none have seen..
My village is a quiet little country...
not a usual haunt for lost souls ..
a common sight be the local drunkard ..
passionate in his arguments with the old electric pole ...
My eyes alert for any suspicious movement ...
regret filling my journey this unearthly hour..
my heart eerily missing those odd few beats ..
as I see an odd figure under the shadow's cover.
He sits lazily beneath the Banyan tree...
his mannerism sedate, wise & other-worldly..
a look of a favorite old uncle, he had
shiny spectacles, a flowing beard to the knee
Bedtime horror stories of old granny ..
powerpointed right before my eyes
my whole body absolutely still ...
the throat stifling out my cries.
'What be thou doing at this hour ?' he asks
a question methinks that befitted him better …
'I am of this village, good Sire... My house beyond these gates ..
been late beyond usual .. the family panicky, I figure ..'
"Oh !! Youu must be poor old Robert …
they sand songs about Thee ..
the younger brother cried the loudest …
though your parents pained beyond decree .."
" Of what songs .. do you mention of ?? ", I asked …
panic rising steadily down my spine…
'my lateness extending perhaps a day …
pray tell me what befall to the family of mine
"Son .. Do thou not remember anything …
about thy journey on that bike …
that sudden black-out you felt …
and a pristine white light floating by… "
" Of course, I remember .. that light .. "
As I realize with my voice eerily curt short .
that man I speak to being a 'brother' Ghost …
and poor me, standing all alone by the Graveyard post.