Five years ago flew by

Now, already remote

The rolling of the years

They’re already afloat

Your past self

Already a ghost

 

When you stand still

You begin to grieve your previous skins

Wonder why you had to forget and kill

Old personalities just to multiply new

So, you cling on to specific moments

Promise not to forget, you never will

 

But it is not uniqu...

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I can feel the moon filling 

rising in my chest, 
my throat 

a grip:
a commanding brand
blinding and hot
pressing down on my chest 
while my legs buck
on an operating table somewhere
then sated
by the cooling hiss 
of oxygen
(or at least
that's what they told me 
it was) 

"You're not yourself, Paul" 
a much shorter name than mine
and a bone saw plain
some numbing tune by th...

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Something speaks from beyond 

Something writhes alive

In each of us

Something pulls and breathes

Beyond our touch 

They call it instinct

But it is magically distinct 

And can lead, lead, lead 

To something in your core

They call it power of the brain 

But it’s so much more 

It cannot be explained away 

It cannot be spoken out of existence 

They call it the mi...

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"Voices carry here, my boy

They drift from open fields

Can get caught under the eaves

Sometimes, they settle in the attic

In the creaking of the joists

In the rot of old wood

And whisper things…

Things long forgotten-

 

Things best forgotten!

 

Don't listen t' them, boy

They ain't for hearin'!

Just let them bleed

Let them seep 

Let the grieving 

wail...

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( click on the live motion link below to get that lovely crackling fire sound ?)

 

On cold winter nights like these

When flaming hues of orange and red 

flicker and sway upon the walls 

of a darkened room

 

The past can find its way back

 

Seeping out of cracks, long-since filled

Through floorboards, long-since replaced

Soft and hushed, 

ingrained in the periphe...

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hinges creaky

lock long rusty

paint a-peeling and vaguely musty

 

swinging days gone

these days shut fast

seems years since I last had a blast

 

footsteps on stairs,

sapling lingers

turns my knob with leafy fingers

 

I stay rigid

want her naughty

instead, sprays my key-hole with WD-40

 

sap linament

for ancient joints

soothing salve an oaken so...

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I found it in the loft

In a dusty old chest

It whispered, come closer

Come get some rest

 

I made it to the bedroom

As slumber took my eyes

The blanket in a corner dark

Stifling long lost cries

 

I heard them in my dreams

A young girl's shallow wailing

I felt his hands around her throat

Under twilight slowly fading

 

I awoke to it upon my bed

He...

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dreams call on me rarely now

my visitors are mostly regrets

with gifts of grief and remorse

what conscience never forgets

 

the love I too often spurned

women I so routinely forsook

bad decisions or no decision

benefit from a backward look

 

yet the past is a willl o' the wisp

easy to install ideal outcomes

where everything's simpler, a

perfect tune hindsight...

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a year now since she died

life never been the same

loving eyes that llit my life

till she fell and got lame

 

her back end had collapsed

lost control of her bladder

lay there still in the garden

never saw anything sadder

 

vet had to give her the jab

said she'd suffer no pain

ashes rest on my dresser

but I'll not see her again

 

all I have is her leathe...

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Granda's slouched 

In his fave comfy chair

A Christmas cracker party hat

Hides his four strands of hair

 

His wife always said:

'Get the buggers cut!'

But he wasn't quite ready

To be a total baldy nut! 

 

He wishes she was here now

Nagging at full pelt:

'If ye eat or drink one more thing,

yer gonna burst your belt!'

 

And Sophie's eyes sparkle

L...

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Tides surge pristine and blue

Waves topple free of plastic

Fishing nets lack dolphins

Isobars miles from drastic

 

Global warming a bad dream

The atmosphere crystal clear

Mass extinctions a fairy story

Kids' horizons free from fear

 

Clear skies without toxins

Greenhouse gas banished

All molecules of fossil fuel

Gone, coal just vanished

 

Global warming...

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So do you still remember me across the tumbled years

Far off thoughts from far away places

Memories fading the pictures of our love

Do you ever think of me the way I do you

Of knowing stares and smiles and eyes that glitter

With no need for words as the loving thoughts just flitter

Warmth from head to heart, from heart to soul, into the bone

Do our thoughts bounce and join acr...

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Jimmy Is A Ghost

 

Jimmy is a ghost

Of the man he used to be

He sits in the rain

Drinking second hand tea

And he hopes that his kids

Will never have to see

His hands outstretched

In an ignored plea

Yeah Jimmy is a ghost

 

Jimmy is a ghost

Off of Oxford Street

He has nothing left to barter

He has nothing left to eat

Just threadbare dreams

And train...

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First, it is only that the tree

is more a presence

less a shadow

beyond my window

then other horizons

light their resting clouds

with a subtle pre-dawn glow

that slowly sets the first gold sun glint

on each high branch above

against a new pale blue sky -

will dawn chasten my succubus

end our companioned time?

that half-felt fragile warmth beside me

seems to s...

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A shadow drawing across my notebook

a guiding hand for my uncertain pen

another mind thinking my thoughts

the ghost writer begins to take over.

 

Words from a different realm

sentences flowing from beyond

aiding me with my creative void

the ghost writer is taking over.

 

Holding my unsteady hand

boldly streams of words do flow

happy am I with my expressive frien...

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His trace inhabits every fraction of my mind, lingering like a thousand dollar perfume, lurking quietly in the shadow of anticipations.

What would i sing, if he's every song? 

What would i speak, if he's my language?

What would i dream, if he's my only imagination?

Now that he ghosts and I am on my knees, I've been counting days in the loudest silence, wishing upon the heavy rain to cl...

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A Marriage Of Ghosts

 

Something old; crumbling bones.

Something new; innocent youth.

Something borrowed; parental beliefs.

A bride forever blue.

 

Flesh bound to ash and bone.

A knot ties the living and dead.

Union of child and corpse, rotting.

Protection from cursed health and poverty.

 

Escaping abandonment, in a death shed,

destined by ancestral expectati...

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There's a ghost in my room
That sings me to sleep
Whispering in my ear
A sweet symphony

With a simple melody
That has a heart mending remedy
But the words that it sings
I can't remember for the life of me

The voice is familiar
But can't put it to a face
I remember something similar
When my mind was in a better state

All I can hope
Is that it never leaves
Because if it were to d...

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This poem is a reverie and contemplation of my mother.

Time and Windows

If the past is a tattered old book,

then why am I a ghost

at my mother's window,

so clear I can sense her mystery,

and her brown eyes, so alive?

 

Look, I can fly to her

through the high windows

of my memory

until I'm so close that she disappears,

and the curtain flutters silently.

 

A...

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Robert you have
you have so secretly
become the ghostly brother of mine
that i did not know i had.

In the picture i have
that mother gave to me
you lie in the bottom left corner
on a wooden bench
barely being able to consider
that a be lovable soul was once even there
by its faded colors it express

And sometimes when I try to recapture
at least one memory I might have of you,
ther...

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Down in the subway in the middle of the night, I hear a train approaching giving me a fright, For no train is scheduled this line has been closed for years, As the train grinds to a halt at the platform, it confirms my fears.   For this is the ghost train and its heading straight for hell, I hear the whistle blow and the signal man yell “All aboard! Its time to go our journeys...

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Noticed

 

I lived my life, most often, like a ghost,

ethereal, drifting from room to room,

a chill chasing me from pillar to post.

 

Rippling across the senses of those whom,

in solitude, sought meaning in their life

before they passed beyond it to the tomb.

 

I was not noticed by them, or my wife

who gladly let me rest in silent shade

whilst stab...

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Hello there,

Angel from my nightmares.

Devil from my dreams

a grey spirit that weaves

its way through my existence.

What a Dementor does to souls

or a Dalek to a human heart.

 

Even a superhuman heart

can break.

 

Just ask Logan,

a force so strong

a returning phoenix

could not reignite remnants.

 

I miss you.

Whatever yo...

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and now  the voices start

those grody sounds that stop your heart

 

beneath the floor, within the walls

the precedent for dull footfalls

 

calling to us one by one

with no clear sight of saint or villain

 

a spectral round of hide and seek

directed by a floorboards creak

 

each time we search there’s nothing there

but of this guest we’re so aw...

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eidolic dread horses

have scarred your slumber

and even your furniture

has silent, open mouthed, nightmares

over the too soon dead school friends

who never ended their crossings

where there she stoops in shroud

ghastly knelt as in prayer

and you can’t see through the tricks

of light that scream “she is there”

your crumpling chest  boiling

as the bones...

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Well, content done, cover done just need to find an English printer who won't mess it up! Note that 'mess' was not my first choice of word. The title is 'Pressed by Unseen Feet' taken from TS Elliot's To Walter de la Mare' . The cover is by York artist Richard Barnes.

We are thinking of Launching it on the August Blue Moon.  

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(A work in progress & in constant evolution...)

 

What would say William Blake if he saw this world post-revolution?

What would he say if he had been witness of the greatest cataclysm of

human heart?

What would he think about universalization when his gaze turned to

New America?

Can its spirit be dumb?

 

He  wrote an answer in the form of a lullaby.

Howev...

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