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Eric Babsy Sep 2018
The eyes that follow.
Down the hall I deeply swallow.
Is something trying to hurt me?
What are they trying to tell me?
The eyes that follow just beyond my bedroom door.
Do I dare to follow in horror?
I feel dizzy.
Quick has something stricken me?
The phantom questions that are neither seen nor heard.
I dare to question every spoken word.
Am I among the living?
What am I seeing?
Apparitions appear to me.
They are sending a message apparently.
They infiltrated my mind, body, and soul.
I used to take refuge in my home.
Now everything seems different.
Tell me who or what sent this.
My body has been taken over.
All I hear or see my system can not recover.
The eyes that follow have not released me.
Now my feet have hit the ground fleetingly.
As I try to flee.
The eyes that follow so evenly.
I have finally made it out.
The eyes that follow will they ever find out?
Sam Feb 2018
Stems of light, apprehended,
comprised in a frame 
of fuzzy, speckled imagery.
Memories etched, staining time
along spectrums once focused 
with refined precision.
Apparitions of past fragments,
transcend; condensed on fabric
weaved through the eye of a lens.
A poem about the moment a photograph is taken.
Mysidian Bard Feb 2017
As I walk the streets of this old town
footsteps of the past are retraced;
though I look upon it with brand new eyes
every place still has your face.

The wind will always carry your voice,
words echoing on the breeze,
like whispers in the gathering dark
between the cemetery trees.

Fragmented memories of a tortured past
are just riddles without clues.
Haunted are these same old streets
by the apparitions of you.
Alan S Bailey Jan 2017
I awoke each morning, without warning
They came from the front door,
And at night the candles were barely well lit,
They were silent and yet I couldn't
Ignore, this is...what is this?
A vile voice and angry specter
Filling my night with gloom,
Now all that was left, my empty space,
For horrors I would brace ,
I couldn't get them out of my face.
This each night they came again,
Banging cupboards while I slept,
Spinning sofas, shooting rubber bands.
They kept invading my dreams,
Upon my shoulder I saw a hand,
A reflection in a portrait of skulls,
A face of an old graying man...*
All of this and more. All of this sent me off my rocker,
I lost my nerve but couldn't settle the score,
I had no idea what they wanted. I was scared
Within inches of my life they were everywhere,
Like the scattering tiny feet of mice.
And a small little puppet twists his face up
Upon my bed, then a native over the same area
With Tomahawk ready, swinging over his head,
Huge spiders appeared upon the ceiling overhead,
And still I was somehow not aware at that,
But they drove me over the edge.
Her feet in the air while lying on the sofa, long hair,
A glaze in her eyes, hate behind the dark disguise,
It's sad to say I had no idea what I'd seen back then,
But it kept going on and on and on.
Close they always followed, they wouldn't let me be,
But I tell you for once a real haunting thing or three,
All I really know is they just wouldn't let me be free...
No matter what I know, no matter what I dream,
Every now and then something moves to scare me.
I know that it's weird and can't find proof or come close,
But all through the years it appears it was a "Gray Winged Ghost."
Mysidian Bard Sep 2016
The pain is long gone
But this feeling lingers on
Why do you haunt me?
Mysidian Bard Sep 2016
I'm just a dreamer
Chasing shadows in the night
Pretending they're real
K Balachandran Feb 2016
Under the murky water of consciousness,

there are one or more, even a shoal of fish.

On the bank,I sit, a  brooding moon on it, reflects,

looks like it swims in the sins of clouds,

My fish-line and hook lay limp on the grass bank,

I've to catch the fish,the line is strong, baits ready,

But I am enamored by the moon's reflected glory

on the water,a lover of the moon, I'd love to catch

as much fish,without breaking the watery moon.

To forgo the love of illusions,keep focused and wait.

deep inside one has to decide,what to seek from life

whether to walk the hard path where  wisdom trees line up,

or heartily be regaled by the pyrotechnics of apparitions.
Momma done asked me
If I's get a job
said 'Love I dunno,
I ain't thought tha far'

She say I'm a sad man
Told her she dam right
She never listen bout the
Demon's comin' at night

She threw her temper on me
I dunno what t'do
Momma word flowing through me
"Child learn to be true"

Oh my lawd
I'm a **** fool
Devil a waiting for me
'nd I dunno what'a do

There ain't nothing I mean
Just working through
My dry cold scheme
Oh Momma please help me
Find something real

My Brother aksed me a question
He wan'know I'm'gon'do
I'say, "I don't know bro,
Guess I'll'earn to be true..."

He say, "Now th'ain't good enough,
You got bills you know do!"

"WHAT'S THAT MATTER TO ME?
Every time I base up
I see my face meet a knee."

OH BROTHER WON'T YOU HELP ME?

"I wish I could bro,
But I know what ya mean."

OH MY LAWD
I'm a ****** fool
****'s waiting for me
GOD what do I do?

Oh Momma please help me
Find reality.
I can only condemn myself.
Sam Haidan Feb 2015
I was running through a dark forest
The trees were bare,
No leaves, no leaves.
Just branches that creeped
Like the cadaverous fingernails of a demon.
And in the sky,
It’s infinite yellow eyes.
And the wind
Cried it’s requiem of disaster -

“Run run run,
While you still can,
I’m coming for your legs,
I’m coming for your hands.
Run run run,
While you still can,
I’m coming for your legs,
I’m coming for your hands.”

I was running through a shallow stream,
The water was cold,
No heat, no heat.
Dead fish swam in schools of misery,
Amidst a black fungus of rotten dreams.
And in the sky,
The shadow of a sprite,
And the wind
Cried it’s requiem of disaster -

“Run run run,
While you still can,
I’m coming for your legs,
I’m coming for your hands.
Run run run,
While you still can,
I’m coming for your legs,
I’m coming for your hands.”
So I had a really bad dream last night...
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