Dust to dust

ashes to ashes will shall all return

with our regrets,

sins and wins erased from mother nature

our spirits effervesce into carbon 

but fear not as energy cannot be destroyed only transferred

our lives once lived tangibly in a conrete jungle

has now been washed away with a faint petrichor lingering in the air!

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The vicar was doing renovations

His churchyard wall needed repair

A pile of waste stone remained

Who took it he didn't seem to care

 

My share made a fine rockery

Planted with Alpine flowers

There in the moonlight it lies

Above it a yew tree towers

 

How those stones seem to glow!

Do I hear church bells at night?

I've drawn the conservatory curtains

Those roc...

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It's a time for True Grit

As big leggy would say

We've met this years woes head on and strong

Working together to keep fears at bay

Our spirits always high every step of the way

Nothing can deflect us from our ultimate goal 

True Grit runs through us, so get out of our way

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It speaks, says they
In a form of perish
She sleeps purely
to only start waving
to them and their
little deformed spirits
Come closer, hence –

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Liquer in the front

Poker in the rear

You can go down to the pub

If you only want a beer

 

.........I'll get my coat!  ;)

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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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Beyond the light
we invoke demons
above the air
behind the wind
below the rain
I dispel the humming bird
Heavy, the heat is fleeing
colourful the spirits Beware!
The Knave never ends
translucent defiant
lost in broad daylight
an unreliable map
In whose eyes
the face in your mirror
grow old
while the world changed
We breathe glowing snakes
beside the spirits cold
I conjure the chi...

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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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