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I made my way
finally
to Point Pleasant
I crossed the Silver Bridge
and walked the blood soaked fields
where the Battle of Kanawha took place
I walked the streets and absorbed the energy
that hovered like unseen clouds
I approached an older woman walking her dog. She was very sweet and made me think of my Mom, God rest her soul. I knew there would be no harsh words or anger from this gentle lady.
I asked her with a friendly smile if she had a story of the Mothman she might share.
'Not the Mothman, she said...but I do have a story.
One from childhood that I've yet to tell anyone, not even my parents. I was maybe 11 or 12 and walking home after playing and it was getting late. I caught something out of the corner of my eye. When I looked, I saw a large plane losing altitude. It just came closer and closer until it leveled out and passed by very close. So close that I could see the passengers in their seats looking straight ahead, silhouetted against the light behind them. I could see their faces. It went by and then gained altitude again. The strangest thing is that I never heard a sound.
I'm not sure why I told you that story. I always felt that people would think I'm crazy. I suppose I can see that you are truly interested. So there you have it.'

I saw the museum, the ammo bunkers and TNT plant and went back to the hotel. I awoke the next morning to find two odd looking drops of blood on my pillow...still fresh. It startled me and I got up to see if it may have come from my ear. As I headed to the bathroom, I noticed more blood on the foot of the bed. In the bathroom there were 2 spots of fresh blood on the floor. I checked the mirror and found no blood in my ears. No nicks from shaving. No nicks on my arms, shoulders, neck or head. I have no idea whatsoever where that blood originated. And here's what really spooked me. They look like 2 very strange faces.

There were no phone calls from Indrid Cold. No prophecies of planes crashing or bridges collapsing, but I left Point Pleasant, West Virginia with a distinct and clear sense that I had tapped into an energy, peeked behind the curtain of Oz and maybe, just maybe I got their attention.
true story - forgive me if it needs editing. I'll get back to it and review later
it's a question for you Lord
as we advance in years
why does hair fall from our heads
and grow rampant in our ears?
why do our teeth rot
while our toenails grow faster?
will we need deodorant
in the ever-after?
why do our guts expand
while our butts retreat?
we wear the same belt size
yet we can't see our feet
we use a fraction of our brains
what of the 90% that remains?
we walk into the kitchen
and can't recall why
or get the car inspected in October
when it was due in July
Perhaps I'm being fussy Lord
imperfection may be our salvation
but please just answer this final question...
who'd you put in charge
when you took a vacation?
always had the question about why hair grows in our ears as we get older...did a bit of editing today - tapered a few lines
Jack Ghaven Feb 2016
I did it!
...Well for a week or so
Partial credit?
...I tried real hard though

Or at least this is how I feel during sobriety
Rather after I have just ended a short stint
I drift off and become a member of my own society
Get quiet and hope the world will take the hint

I really can't handle myself or how I misinterpret things
I'm lost in the translation from my head to the real world
You'll never know the pain the memory of you brings
I was lost and found, nothing and everything all because of a girl

I never did it...
And never will!
I only hid it...
Have you had your fill?
Not sure what's going on here...
Jack Ghaven Feb 2016
I can't feel my face
Do I know this place?
I've been here before
I can't take any more
I'll fall off the ******* map
Pick up and go and never look back
Afraid to say most wouldn't notice
It took awhile but trust me I know this
Everyone wants you to try so **** hard
But God forbid you expect an inch when you give a yard
Than again how much could I possibly comprehend?
I'm just slouched at the keys, sketched out, at wit's end
This is just a poor excuse for a freestyle
Stream of consciousness once in awhile
I'm so close to ending my effort to care about others
I've had family had friends had lovers
But never found my mutual muse
So I'm stuck with these things I abuse
Mary Jane and John Jameson are good company
Though they tend to lead to a different me
I've come to be scared of my mirrors
No matter how I stare I can't see clear
Kitts Apr 2015
I have in my possession
A collection of
Fine feathers and beads
Of pretty colors
So wonderful to see
My collection of
Fine feathers and beads
Lamb Mar 2014
Nothing* is but an ideology
Created within the midst of terminology
Contemplated inside the realm of human sociology
Excessive thought creates a disease of unknown etiology
Without *nothing
, the purpose of something lacks possibly
Fathoming such perceives speculations of oddities
How can one measure that lacking of qualities
and incomplete of quantity?
Theorization subconsciously
Rationalizing improbably
On the brink of psychopathy
Is it really all but a prophecy?
Distorting my mind in such ferocity?
Encompassing dimension of philosophy
Does the term nothing orbit a sense of despondency?
Interpreting into a form of commodity
But how can I construe what nothing is,
I mean quite honestly?
Read the poem and you can read it backwards as well.
It almost sounds cooler when read backwards!
PrttyBrd May 2010
Through the thunder nothing is heard
A shadow of a voice imprinted on the mind
The wind howls and masks their screams
Can one's own thoughts be trusted?
Not in search of, but finding oddities
Things that seem senseless
They fill the crevices left in dreams
There is no help for the silent
Mind tricks and sleight of hand
Say the words and life is lightened
One load at a time
52310

— The End —