#specter
the specter was child
and they dreamt a mystery
i listened and learned
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 8:20 PM UTC
It was a small
white plastered walled
room
where I sat alone
studying French
before the bell
would sound
and send me home.
Cracked bits of plaster fell
turning to smoke
as they hit the floor
making a thin white mist
of dirt that exposed
a hidden figure.
A silk specter,
she moved through the air
as if gravity
wasn’t even there.
A beautiful swirling
nightmare
swimming in
this stale atmosphere
Dangerous hands
that could caress gently
or strangle menacingly.
Better than the bitter
poltergeists
that haunted
Hollywood screens,
cause she was
far more fascinating.
Undefined
mistress of
lost minds,
who lost time
trying to find
some sort of meaning.
I watched her
confused
and amazed
at the sight displayed
as she played
in some sort of
ethereal realm
allowing me
to see.
all of her
abstract majesty,
but just as quickly
she evaporated.
I do not think
anyone will believe
this strange story
so, I made it in to poetry.
Hopefully
she will come back
and haunt me
some day in the future.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 10:20 AM UTC
Sunday morning,
and the sun is peaking through the blinds
after a long sleepless night.
The monster that hung over my head all night
is sticking around for the light, it seems,
and it is scaring my Pothos'.
As they wilt,
I am changing the song that's playing,
It's too haunting, too obvious.
An old friend, this specter has become.
I laugh as he spills my coffee.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
You left years ago,
the bed still unmade
You left years ago,
the bills still unpaid
You left years ago,
the message I still play
You left years ago,
the beauty I still gaze
You left years ago,
the child I still raise
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
Death, that lonely tarot card.
A silent grim specter
No one wishes to see.
It impinges upon the norm.
Egyptian curses scarier, more real.
Lacelike spider webs, the coldest steel.
Leafless trees, silhouetted against the storm.
Efficiently bringing portentous change.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 1:57 AM UTC
Specter of my past
Graveyard’s gate of my desires
Haunt me forever
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 1:52 AM UTC
*This Is The Story Of Her, New-Fangled Eyes,
Filling Up In Valiant High,
A Sacramental Anticipation,
Victim Of Her Addiction,
Specter Amour Ensemble,
She Kisses So Gentle,
A New Found Glory,
Like What’s The Morning Story?
An Ark Of Optimism,
An Immortal Prism,
A Scope Of Life,
Enslaved To Her Emphatic Hive,
Imbibed Inside Her Metamorphosing Dive,
Eternal Sunshine Of A Spotless High,
Twinkling Fireworks Into The Duskiest Night,
Like The Sprightliest Light,
Painting Me In All Her Colors Of Life,
A Gorgeous Cognizance Blossoming Transcendence Of 90’s Summer,
As She Discos Like A Junior In Spring Summer,
Myriad Instants Of Her Untamable Beliefs
Driving Me In Her Upbeat Beats,
Infinitely Running On Repeat,
Scorching With Her Heartbeat,
An Amour So Sanctified,
Thrills Out All The Unrefined,
Cause To Major Redesign
A Cryptic Princess From Tomorrow Land,
Glued To Her Hand In Hand,
A Wish Of Hazel Eyes,
Relentlessly Every Night,
Cranberry Delights,
Mystical Highlights,
Etched With Infinite Scars Of Her Amours
Into Transcendent Clusters Of Her Own,
Engulfed In Her Moans In Rome,
Surrendered To Her Cryptic Heart,
She’s A Symphony To Mozart,
All She Gives Are Premature Ventricular Constrictions Every Infinite,
Till The Rest Of Her Lives*
- 04:21AM
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 5:53 PM UTC
Like the spectral sensation
of invisible waves
swelling against the body in bed--
so do your lips
still wash over mine.
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 10:25 PM UTC
I need to dance with you and listen to you sing. I need to look at you, and catch your eye at the exact moment you turn your head and smile at me. You have shown me that magic exists; kindness is not a myth. You, I need to do so many things with you. I need to follow your fingers as they move rhythmically to the tune of the universe. I need to breathe in your effulgent happiness. I need to touch and feel your scalding soul. The sadness that grips you and the darkness that stains your eyes, I need to partake in its lilting stillness. And as you float and stumble, crash and burn through life, I need to be there, pulsing, writhing, drowning in the abyss of wanting you.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
We have gone against the counsel of the Spectre.
It warned us of the dangers of succumbing to temptation.
But we did not heed its words.
She came to us, eyes filled with tears, reciting words we thought we would never hear again.
How could we refuse her?
She, who held our future in her emerald eyes?
She, who banished the Solitude that plagued us so?
She, who stole our heart before we knew it was missing?
How could we refuse her?
Yet it was those same emerald eyes that we saw when she departed once more towards the same arms as before.
And we wanted to engrave our anger with crimson ink.
We screamed at the Spectre, demanding vindiction.
And the Spectre listened.
We spat and cursed at it, our tongue spilling rage like a torrential downpour.
And the Spectre spoke.
I am the warden of your lucidity. I am not your enemy. It is you who deviated from my guidance.
Through gritted teeth, we ask why we are tormented so?
The Spectre's response was simple:
For you continue to dance with the devil, then wonder why you burn.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
A wailing ghost has found you.
Foolishy, you hoped to be free.
But that is how it plays with you.
A cat and mouse game, you see.
However did you get as far
In the frosty, wintry night
Without knowing your ache would return?
How could you think you'd be alright?
The haint is on your back,
And chillishly shrilling in your ear.
Maybe you did not bury your deeds deep enough.
Perhaps that is why you fear.
The awesome hatred is poured into your cup.
A spectral accusation never is one in vain
If it closely resembles the truth.
The guilty perish, for crimes that are never named.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
sipping on boiling water & having it accidentally(intentionally) burn my feelings(heart& all senses)
would hurt less than facing the despicable truth that the world's spout has to offer
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC