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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the voice comes to me 
as a phantom in a dream. 

as i write 
the voice channels 
from him to me. 

laughter vanishes 
to staring at the sea, 
to the house 
that no longer carries 
his childhood dreams. 

vacanies searching for occupation 
from passing through stations 
to platforms holding onto memories, 
all of it comes to me. 

in my internal screenplay, 
is he the playwright...

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here i stand, here i stay...

in the midst of memories

that wont seem to go away..

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Those feelings

The ones that hold you back

Make you want to stop

stay home and hide

they haunt me

You get that sinking feeling

an ache in the pit of your stomach

can’t shake it

leaves you feeling helpless

and hopeless

Memories

that you thought you’d hidden

or dealt with

come flooding back

vivid as if it was just today

haunting you like a ghost

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Our SchoolWas Haunted

Our school was haunted on this Halloween

All you could hear was moaning and screams

The chairs started groaning,

The floor was all sticky

The slime on the windows was squashy and squishy

The bats and the cats were cooking with witches

And casting a spell of chickenpox itches

The eyelash of spider and toenails of newt

Frogspawn and ...

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Everything seeps in, everything leaks, in to this pale membrane.

The air from gestures, the pain and wicked eyes flicker.

The soft secretion of lingering sadness shelters like a veil.

Not haunted though, not lost to anything.

A door left open for a breeze to walk in.

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