ghost stories - Hello Poetry

Nov 2016

Samuel Hesed

Today, I went to see my old friend.
Someone who has been by my side sense the beginning.

He has walked with me through the trials in mylife.
He has taught me how to dance on the edge of a knife.

Though, he does not speak -
I still listen.
He does not move.
I still march.
He has no arms.
I still let him in.

His embrace-
is the gift of grace.

He does not have treasures-
that you and I could measure.
He gives you the pleasure of an adventure.

Its hard to believe that its been so long,
But time has made us only strong.

Thank you for showing me how to be free.
Thank you for introducing me to the trees.

For its always been a journey to have a Road for a friend.

#love #hellopoetry #road

Nov 2016

phil roberts

HOME ALONG THE CANAL

The wind shuffles the long grass
And the broad green reeds
Shifting and rattling
By the rippling black water
Chuckling water fowl splash
Swans and cygnets hurry past
And the weather is on the turn
It's time to be heading home

The last of the daylight creatures
And the very first of those of the night
Are sharing this half-way hour
The sky restlessly moves and changes
And bruised clouds rush over head
Like the rubbed eye-lids of a child
A weary teary child
Going home and ready for bed

The slack and glossy water
Laps at the stone beneath bridges
Echoing with the ghosts of barges
And spits of rain flick the air
Studs of cold hitting the face
Turning a collar to the cheek
And urging aching feet
Home-fire yearning me home

By Phil Roberts

Nov 2016

r

Brown soles

Love, be gentle and kind,
take that rusty gun from under
my pillow and shoot me twice
in the heart so I can feel the hurt
from the first time and the pain
from the second again;
but don't bury me in the dirt
beneath your bare feet,
just burn me like the memory
of your brown soles I saw
running away, oh, so long
a time ago, I can't even remember.

Oct 2016

Gaffer

The Room.

The room was in darkness
Save for the solitary shard of light
Shining directly onto that point on the wall
The blood had dried in long back
If the room could speak
There would be screams
The chains still hung on the wall
Frozen in time
A timely reminder
To the events of that day
She touched them
Just to understand
Why
She expected the feel of cold metal
Instead, a strange heat surged through her body
Compelling her into the chains
Tightly binding her against the wall
Trapped, she waited
He was watching her
Listening as her heart pounded in fear
Just the beginning
She thought she was screaming
As the blood entered her mouth, slowly
Forcing her eyes to scream
Her mind now drowning in panic
As life began to fade
He watched her, fascinated as she entered the next phase
The journey into the afterlife
Just like the others
The room was in darkness
Save for the solitary shard of light
Shining directly onto that point on the wall.

Oct 2016

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Uncle Peter

Don’t come to the cemetery at night Peter Xalxo would say
If you are so inclined make your visits in the day
For often in the evening when exam worries were gone
I would go to the cemetery and sit on some tombstone.

I think boy the ones from the other world make visits at nights
And they would not love to find living souls upon their sights
Why intrude their peaceful home and not leave them there alone
When the time after the sunset they think to exclusively own!

Having said this with a grave face he would lower his voice still low
While on nightly posts at the graves I’ve seen in the dark some glow
And at moonlit nights on duty’s round heard footsteps around me
I would advise boy not to step into at night at the cemetery.

He used to tell more such tales to instill in the boy some fear
But come the next evening and at the cemetery I would reappear
For I loved the moon bathed solitude the trees’ darkened shed
The tranquility of the place in quiet company of the dead!

All said I wouldn’t leave out in this account one truthful fact
Uncle Peter’s stories had some effect some impact
They colored my times at the cemetery spent at nights alone
I seemed to feel they were moving the graves’ marble stone.

Then one night as I was coming out around nine o’clock
To my horror found the gate closed with an iron lock
Bewildered I stood there knowing no other ways to go
When there appeared a shadow heard the voice of Peter Xalxo.

I told you boy not to loiter here not disturb their peace of night
This ground here the dead walks now though beyond your sight
Run home and never come back his voice in whisper talked
Some more words he mumbled before got the gate unlocked.

That night at the dinner table my father told mom this
He was such a good man and a great friend to miss
But God only decides in his garden which flower to pluck
Peter Xalxo died this evening suffered a heart attack.

A repost on Halloween.

Oct 2016

Sjr1000

The Pilot

Like a plane in the
fog
looking for a place to
land
Like a man in a
homeless shelter listening for the rapture
A pelican on a pier
eyeing his next meal
the last apple on a
tree all ready
to fall

Remember I started with blue
skies in front of me
I studied my flight plan well
I knew I'd be landing

I knew for sure
it wasn't going to be hell
I always tried to do so well,
focusing in on innocence
when ever I was able to

But there are failures of compass
The phantom captain takes
a nap

The instruments may keep on
saying you're right on track
But
the only trust I have is
in the Northern Star
and in Mars high
in the sky.

It seems impossible
to be so lost

Like a plane in the
fog
looking for somewhere
to land.

Like a woman working tables
until two a.m.
Her fitness app keeps saying
a hundred years this shift

The fuel is evaporating
The miles to go before zero
keeps hopping

Like a whale without a culture
no one to talk to
The sky is a 300 mile high
air ocean
I thought I was free
to get from here to there

Like a window with a view
of a brick wall

Phoenix in the summer
A tsunami on dry land
A river without a name
A cougar and no game

Like a lover whose left
and no way to find their name

So many aspects of this life
Departures and arrivals
a one way ticket

There is a great darkness
out in the distance
I know it's getting closer
but
I keep on drifting

Like a plane in the fog
looking for a place to land.

A nod to Leonard

Oct 2016

Gaffer

The Ring

It started with the solitary ring
Ringing, ringing
Till it rang no more
Others began to ring after that
The digital world informing, as they always do
Many more phones would ring
Some would answer
Some would never answer again
The tragedy of life in the digital age
Instant death at the fingertips of the holder
Captured by the hands of the digital movie maker
Captured for all eternity
One second, one minute, one hour, one day
Just one tragedy amongst a thousand others
It started with the solitary ring
Till a chorus of rings wept into the night and forever more.

Oct 2016

Scott F Hemingway

Hallow Gray

A witch, indeed met me so a mole where willing made her but a match to liken potato and let her teeth beside with a grail that she'd throw a kiss into a prance when beyond a dark corner near square could race to our legs with a carton of eggs and nearer the place that toasted our evening outing perchance with dinner hid in graveyard.

#kiss #romance #graveyard #halloween #witch #hallow