"phantasmal" poems
I
LEAGUERED in fire
The wild black promontories of the coast extend
Their savage silhouettes;
The sun in universal carnage sets,
And, halting higher,
The motionless storm-clouds mass their sullen threats,
Like an advancing mob in sword-points penned,
That, balked, yet stands at bay.
Mid-zenith hangs the fascinated day
In wind-lustrated hollows crystalline,
A wan valkyrie whose wide pinions shine
Across the ensanguined ruins of the fray,
And in her lifted hand swings high o'erhead,
Above the waste of war,
The silver torch-light of the evening star
Wherewith to search the faces of the dead.
II
Lagooned in gold,
Seem not those jetty promontories rather
The outposts of some ancient land forlorn,
Uncomforted of morn,
Where old oblivions gather,
The melancholy, unconsoling fold
Of all things that go utterly to death
And mix no more, no more
With life's perpetually awakening breath?
Shall Time not ferry me to such a shore,
Over such sailless seas,
To walk with hope's slain importunities
In miserable marriage? Nay, shall not
All things be there forgot,
Save the sea's golden barrier and the black
Closecrouching promontories?
Dead to all shames, forgotten of all glories,
Shall I not wander there, a shadow's shade,
A spectre self-destroyed,
So purged of all remembrance and ****** back
Into the primal void,
That should we on that shore phantasmal meet
I should not know the coming of your feet?
3.7k
**You want to read little pristine pretty posies
not get involved betwixt & ignore the thorns of life
whatcha gonna do when your scratch becomes infected
hiding in the bushes of denial will get you hives
of the contradicting type, bucking like a bronco
amidst the flowery storm clouds of refusal
riding through wild fields of four leaf clovers
on unicorns wings of phantasmal puff'd perfectly pink skies
pseudo fairy tales conjured up in the mind
never to cross the median line of reality's mock deception
swallow the chimerical pill of inauthentic utopia
just be sure your mythical allegory never plays havoc
in your secret garden of rainbow streaming sublimity,
the fall is greater from the zenith of repudiation**
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 7:06 AM UTC
I see her in hooded head
Walking by in the night
The dusked shadows dewy in thought
Rumors fill my inquirious desires
As she transcends the vacuous light
Dare not I to ask where you go
She fills me full of fright
But alluring to me like catalepsy
Mewing the cats-eye of my discontent
Then around upon the angled corner
My phantasmagoria bent
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
The silenced weep on pastel colors
While rainbows pass through windowed thoughts
Deep within my mind is a trail leading to a universe
Stellar happiness draped upon rivers of joy
Going out on a limb, to jump from dreams
Onto pages of hopes written ravishingly
Imagination runs away from me wildly
Remaining intact with its childlike ways
Jumping into puddles of mirages
Swimming in pools of fantasy
Hallucinating on what may come
Imaginary imagery dancing upon moonbeams
Jarred in glass jars held upon windowed shelves
Closing eyes tightly around the glimpses of sweet serenades
While musical tones create beautifully painted canvases
Once blank without any reflection
Mirrored images of the future grants introduction
While paintbrushes meet color tones in seduction
Secluded rendezvous leading into ****** sensation
Alluring lust into temptation, leading away from separation
An everlasting desire of dreams entering reality
When morality grows a deepened mortality
A work of art is born on vacant sheets
As contentment drives on desolate streets
Harmonious melodies playing through radio beats
Creating muffled brightness through dusk’s doorway
Sun shining in through my mind in a magical way
A beginning to a brand new day
Has started, Today!
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 2:58 PM UTC
"I grant you ample leave
To use the hoary formula 'I am'
Naming the emptiness where thought is not;
But fill the void with definition, 'I'
Will be no more a datum than the words
You link false inference with, the 'Since' & 'so'
That, true or not, make up the atom-whirl.
Resolve your 'Ego', it is all one web
With vibrant ether clotted into worlds:
Your subject, self, or self-assertive 'I'
Turns nought but object, melts to molecules,
Is stripped from naked Being with the rest
Of those rag-garments named the Universe.
Or if, in strife to keep your 'Ego' strong
You make it weaver of the etherial light,
Space, motion, solids & the dream of Time --
Why, still 'tis Being looking from the dark,
The core, the centre of your consciousness,
That notes your bubble-world: sense, pleasure, pain,
What are they but a shifting otherness,
Phantasmal flux of moments? --"
2.5k
Left without a trace.
Came the hollow man with no face.
Travels on his own, purgatory home.
Screaming flesh, phantasmal bone.
You can hear his stumble,
In bright moon alone.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
Vast, empty, midnight hour,
hunchbacked lampposts glaring over parasitic black earth
choking its host.
A parking lot,
an ecosystem’s blemish—
hot tar seeping into the pores of the earth
like a stubborn blackhead in a lip line.
When no cars burrow into the blackened hide
like lice
the great absence of life
is an atrocity.
I imagine myself skateboarding across the tier
as the small town cops
watch languidly with vague interest—
A skateboarder’s paradise
where wheels and accomplice minds roll across celestial barriers
blasting infinite pulses
into the microcosm.
What greasy punks have their mother’s van parked here,
huddling by the heat vents
and jerking off into a Pringle’s can?
Empty parking lot
looks like a cemetery
filled to the brim
where headstones meld
over a mass grave—
delineated by white lines,
the apparitions of vehicles and their hosts
haunt the frozen space.
Another horrible excuse
to waste land,
a wasteland in and of itself
where Tom Eliot saunters aimlessly
and buries the dead.
The saddest sight to behold,
this vacuous parking lot
littered with stray shopping carts,
phantasmal plastic bags,
gum splotches,
***** stains,
candy wrappers,
cigarette butts,
used condoms,
lonely cops
and patient drug dealers,
ambulant skaters,
tired punks,
bored teenagers,
somnambulists,
stumbling drunks,
hunchbacked ***** lights
prying for life beneath its sallow gaze—
The air encapsulated within the perdition
stifling,
the pavement below stifling,
a constriction only visible
when emptied of its contents.
A cop wakes from their choking nightmare gasping
to find themselves trapped,
****** in this parking lot
where the walkie-talkie buzzes
with the weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The warehouse store
looming above the waiting room
lifeless, silent, dark countenance—
Big Brother sees all in the gaping maw.
Cascading before me,
stretching towards the highway passing by,
waiting for the panorama to finish scrolling,
the treadmill to cease its cycle—
all the while lamenting life’s absence
and reveling in the potentiality it possesses.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
Amongst the multitude of solitudnal whims
I carry within,
Down to you, forgotten.
A youth that's fighting,
refusing to succumb to the delicacies
of an aging core.
The dream of love renewed,
The ambiance of it.
The life of a thousand nights of falling star
wishes and programmed dreams.
A chance within our grasps.
Mirrors.
Desolately has my soul resided in this
phantasmal reality of dull referendum,
misunderstood.
Neglected, rejected, tortured, hurt,
and broken.
I remain hidden.
A cool calm collected exterior.
The world sees me,
or so it thinks.
Hilarious hideousness.
My deceptions so simple.
Smoke and mirrors, magician I am.
Humor the powerful blinding agent
of stares, opinions, and gossip.
I laugh internally as the world judges me.
Forms its superficial egotistical
repressed opinions of me.
Do you..... see me true?
Can you.....will you ever chose to?
Demonic presence ever near, trying to **** me.
Have I fear?.........No, I have no fear!
© Crystal Erickson 11/24/07
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
The Fence
A wooden fence once surrounded my home
Which I had hoped would keep out all intruders-
It was the fence my father had built
Years before his passing
Alive always inside a world of my own
I had built myself a different sort of fence-
One made of spoken words and angry gestures
That would ward away intruders I believed were always out to harm me.
A wooden fence can simply be sawed or broken down
When one is motivated to do so
And locks to their gates can be opened with a key
Therefore a wooden fence most likely will not shut the world out.
My own fence has shut the real world out
My soul and spirit are protected.
My special fence keeps me sheltered from the world outside
And is built from barbed wire of my imagination.
My mother and my father have passed away years ago-
They shall never become part of my private world –
It was not my wish that they would have ever been, as
They were forever trying to break down that fence that guarded my castle in the sky.
Now I am living in a different place in time-
Far from the wooden fence surrounding what was once my family’s home
Life is safer and not as threatening now
But I still with caution carry with me that extraordinary fence of my dreams.
Someday I hope that I can find that phantasmal key
That key that would unlock the gate to that protective fence of mine-
So that I could step out side, if only for a brief moment-
And hopefully learn that the real world is not a place to fear.
I hope that one day I shall awaken to a rainbow on my horizon
And that fence I have hidden behind for all the days of my life
Shall vanish as did the wooden fence had after so many years-
And I can find new freedom while I give thanks that I no longer have to be afraid.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
Rich crimson leaves cascade from trees
Embers of fire in the breeze
Luna sails the black sea unseen
Autumnal spell of Halloween
We carve a brood of sculpted gourds
Bake apple pie for all adored
While trick-or-treaters come and leave
Phantasmal dream of Hallows' Eve
Candles burn bright in our window
Ancestors led home by the glow
Our bonfires flames swell with sheen
As shadows dance on Halloween
Let the feast for the dead begin
This spirit night, the veil is thin
Humans and ghosts interweave
The magic realm of Hallows Eve
The clock strikes the Witching Hour
Loved ones graves we bloom in flowers
This spooky Eve of in betweens
The time of rebirth, Halloween
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
*Lightning Enchantress & Her Diamond Absolutes,
Moaning Fluxes Of Her Satellite Pursuits.,
Phantasmal Intents In Her Indigo Silhouettes.
***** Eyes & Animatronic Bliss,
Her Cherry Lips Calling For Her Symphonic Kiss,
Inimitable Raindrops & Iridescent Perpetuity,
Condensed Laments Of Her Kaleidoscopic Sphericity,
Purple Palisades & Platinum Charades,
Pheromone Verses Of Her Propelled Shades,
Shapeshifting Reveries Of Her Hourglass Fictions,
Charming Archangels Concealed In Her Convictions,
Glasshouse Perspectives Emitting Luminescent Predictions,
Magnetic Canvas & Her Stainless Vibrations,
Her Aesthetic Amour Diffusing Amplifications,
Satirical Saga In Her Spiritual ******
Lyrical Charlatans Of Her Velvet Creativity,
Crystal Flowers & Supernatural Dreams,
Befuddled Effigies Of Her Cryptic Realms,
Her Feral Gleams Illustrating A Prophetic Queen.
- 02:32 AM -*
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
***Fed upon your metaphors
like a zombie's lust for blood
howl'd at the moon in your
verbose verbiage's alliteration
piece by piece, like Frankenstein's
monster you conjur'd me whole
sucked out the guts and laid me
flat in ghostly passages twisted cravings
dwelling 'tween light and darkness
assimilated in your inky draft
dancing amuck within your tangled webs
just the other side of nightmare's exposure
drinking in the sea of your heaving tidal steamers
punch drunk in phantasmal's obsession
high voltage flipped me over like an abstract
Dali painting's w***e
I come away ghastly satiated,
macabre though it may seem
thrills and spills in every tempting morsel
of affecting poetry's sinful appetite***
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
*Psychic Trance & ****** Dance,
Emitting Chemical Solace Dipped In Her Capital Romance,
Feral Atmosphere Written In Her Carnal Elegies,
Rapturous Serenades Forming Phantasmal Effigies,
Magnetized Synchronicity & Metamorphized Reciprocity,
Animating Foreplays Dazzling Her Astral Virtuosity,
Phantasmal Lips Illuminating Cherub Faces In Draped Compositions,
Painting Supernatural Visions Forged In Her Vocal Inhibitions,
Prototype Voids & Spiraling Realms,
Religious Frenzies In Her Temporal Screams,
Autumn Sun Reincarnating The Light Of The Spring,
Glass House Perspectives Blooming In Her Prismatic Bling,
Rhapsody Confessions Of Her Divine Obsessions,
Rainbow Skies Dressed In Her Spiritual Progression,
Coral Spells & Synthetic Desires,
Floral Pastels Engineering Her Romantic Fires,
Nightlife Flatlining Through Her Lonely Avenues In LSD High,
A Congenital Sinner She Respires ****** Hues With A Luminescent Sigh!
– 05:13 AM –*
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 7:51 AM UTC
Growing out from childish pranks,
With the storm and stress of turbulent teens,
I locked within my mind’s cupboard,
A portrait vaguely sketched, but never finished.
Rough it was, though fancifully done,
The silhouette of a masculine figure,
The Gallant who would reach one day,
To hold my hand and own me his.
I had no inkling who he would,
Yet had fallen in love with that phantasmal figure,
He had dazzling eyes and sturdy limbs,
With striking features, ravishing to view,
Elusive ever to sight and touch,
He remained an enigma, abstract to grasp.
At times his contours grew distinct,
But soon blanched out into hazy lines,
When at times a covert devouring look,
Or a pair of intent adoring eyes,
Sent a thrill down my fickle heart,
I forced open my chest nut draw,
And took out stealthily that half done sketch,
Hidden out from world’s staring glance,
To alter the features one by one,
And make it resemble the man I met,
Either within a moving train,
Or sometimes in an elite gang,
Who derailed my thoughts in pensive mood,
And tickled my fancy to heave and sigh.
He made me turn and toss in bed,
And left me, many a sleepless night,
He stroked my heart with gladdening ache,
And made me lose in sweet reverie.
In the nick of time, he solemnly came,
To hold my hand and tie the knot,
With pounding heart and quivering breath,
I found him differ from the man I dreamt.
The fabulous fabric in my loom,
Looked at variance from the one unfurled,
Transfixed between fact and fallacy,
I struggled to hide a falling tear.
Time marched on in silent haste,
And I learnt to outgrow my childish whims,
Sagacity dawned with passing age,
Making me discern the real from the sham.
It made me admire his sanguine self.
On fathomed deep beyond external mien,
I saw him unveiled in taint less worth,
That made my heart ever pine in love.
Piecing together our halved selves,
With the glue of love, our identities merged,
Now he is with me in my blues,
Consoling me with his balmy touch,
He is with me in my joy,
Making it resonant with a hearty laugh,
He is there when storms rage,
Whispering in my ear, not to fear,
He taught me how to savour life,
To meet the slings with radiant cheer,
Now the image is clearly etched deep,
Never to erase, nor to revise!
And the old portrait locked within,
Grew so musty, bereft of use,
In its place, I keep within,
His solid figure in indelible print.
Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
SPRING
Like a bull, she charged the dandelion hill
Her child-sister a pack on her back, until
The braves swarmed from the wooded rill
She shouted to her comrades to lie still
Among the sweet grass and the dewy chill
Wild girl
SUMMER
She clutched the bark skin of Hawthorne trees
Skidding down, then pressing in her knees
Mop of chestnut hair blowing in the breeze
Which smell'd of hot soil and sweet peas
The sun above as close as she could please
Wild girl
AUTUMN
Page after page, her blackish eyes devoured
Tales of elves and warriors, from her tower
Where real-life through the faery-glass did sour
In presence of such phantasmal power
Of all the leather-bound leaves they flowered
Wild girl
WINTER
So it was, she crafted bricks of blue and red
Into cathedrals and creatures concocted in her head
Riled dragons to hear the tales they said
Climbed mountains others would not dare to tread
And did it all before momma called her to bed
Wild girl
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
Deep perfume seeps still from the fallen rose Down down endlessly
filling the air with all that is pure, and soon all that is not
diamonds glisten upon its skin Sparkling in the summer heat, he
knows this won't be the end
moisture condenses around his roots, the tree growing up into
heaven, life surging around him, springing, growing, ripping
through the thick and crusted earth. Pun i ca gra na tum is such a complex word for what here has come to pass. the roots shooting down and spreading, their mirrors filling the sky, soaking up our
shining beams of phantasmal brilliance.
Only those loved have names wouldn't you Agree some are special
to the producing world, and Others are left to rot, take the fruit of a morning lily, no one loves her, yet she bears all the same
something stirs within his being, some new body grows out from
inside, some new some new some new something new. The sky fills
with blood espousal carillon, their pods filling rich and new,
chiming out for all to hear the dawn rising, the birds flying, yes,
hear them fly above as you watch their song paint the sky in cool
purples and blues.
Color is so trite and love is so outdated and there are those who
wish for the end of the world as well Creation falling to the Ground
as the rosebud does in winter
united in final ecstasy, the bells descend as dying mistrals unveil
our sinking crown, sound-bow dripping away
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
*Even when I know they're but unfinished stories,
accepted pain and acknowledged sorrys,
virtual realities reflected from mirrors of a lost paradigm
and engineered metaphorically vocalized pantomime
even when I know that they're not the end of the road
(that there're even many more miles to walk)
or even blossoms of life within a spectral pod
but merely a beautiful view of the vast and
rough ocean from the calm of a floret mental dock
through tinted glasses in pink of perception with utmost optimism
a fairy born of refraction through a phantasmal prism
even when the universe disputes the truism of a magic wand
I still fantasize about holding your hand
and matching with you through thick and thin
for better for worse, against the torrents from foe and keen
in turbulence of rage and storms of tears till we find laughter
until the bruises of souls and hearts shattered find mending
in the enema of our blending so we can have a happy ending
even when I know forever and for always is just a true lie
and we are likely to more than anything make us cry,
I still believe in pulchritudinous endings, in happily ever after
in you and I, in the beauty of wilting roses and those in the rain
in sticking together through the pleasure and pain...
Even when I know love is just a word,
we can lend it every meaning we've ever dreamed
I still believe in real romance, in the broken being fixed
in forever being now and now being forever
in never saying never, in you and I
truth or lie, do or die... roads and bendings
long as it's with you, I believe in Happy endings...*
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 7:58 AM UTC
My soul is small some days -
A pebble, a seashell, a speck on the horizon -
I don’t know who I am and I don’t know
Where I want to be.
Some days, my soul encloses the universe-
I am the light of a star, a thousand worlds yet unseen,
The eternal sky, the phantasmal deep;
I know who I am, I know where to go.
This uncertainty is bad for me, apparently
I was not designed to doubt, but to have faith
And I do! I have the faith of the mustard seed
That grows into the giant tree.
But for today, my soul remains that mustard seed
Though it has begun to sprout and grow, I am
Still tiny, trembling, afraid that I don’t know
Who I am or where to go.
I believe in a God so great, so indescribable
With love infinitely vaster than my soul
On the days it ‘most could touch the edges of eternity.
I know I will not be here forever, so I’ve got to make it count.
There is no room for fear; there is no time for doubt.
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 9:40 PM UTC
The shattered concrete sidewalk spits shards of itself to the side with each crunching step. A stagnant yellow light suppressed by oppugning umbra strives with zeal to illuminate this phantasmal ambiance. The cadence of footfall hesitates at the corner of a decaying building. Eyes locked on a crimson door fabricated by the hands of Bhairava. It was this remorseless portal that produced the walker of dreams. With her approach the obscuration of scenery increased until there was nothing but two beings converging beneath the steadfast but dim light. Without sound the first tear fell to the ground. It grasped towards the earth below, delayed as if opposed by gravity, but with weight enough to overcome. The rest followed, after observing to make sure the first hit its target. Clairvoyance had become a curse to the seer, as the plight of the dreamwalker was revealed without words uttered. Secrets poured out almost as quickly as the now rushing tears. These concrete slab secrets attached ropes to the empathetic sleeper's wrists and anchored him beside the dreamwalker. With each thought that passed the bindings tightened around his appendages. And then this intruder, void of but a few secrets, looked up at him with horror. She comprehended too well the anguish caused by this affliction. As she rose beside him an embrace was offered, to suppress the gravity of the situation. For the first time she spoke. Her whispered words reverberated with such intensity that only dust and thread existed where the bindings had pulled and gnawed at skin. "It will all be ok now". She had come seeking comfort, but left beyond that horrible door with only the comfort that his memories would be purged upon waking. He woke with a heavy heart tied to concrete blocks, contemplating whether or not to utter his sorrowful knowledge to the one that provided it to him unknowingly.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
"Choir of the sun chants inside the anti moon
Shockwaves rattle the Earth below with hymn of doom
Chilled rays freeze below the eye of silver sun
****** souls gather in valley of the evil one
Phantasmal specter of two worlds collide
Planetoid soaked in rays of electric light
Stoner caravan from deep space arrives
Rides on the suncraft toward the glowing eye
Walk with the cleric under eye of silver sun
****** souls gather in valley of the evil one
Choir of the sun chants inside the anti moon
Shockwaves rattle the Earth below with hymn of doom"
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
*Sapphire Eyes Of An Astral Mermaid,
Perpetual Eternities & Her Sundrenched Serenades,
Myriad Odysseys & Spellbound Fairytales,
Veiled In Elysian Elegance Of Her Harmonious Tales,
****** Landscapes & Electric Fire,
Stellar Cloudscapes Of Her Ecstatic Desires,
Spatial Matrix Of An Emerald Queen,
An Ethereal Butterfly Perpetually Serene,
Colored Screenshots & Blue Moon Foundations,
Wrecking Overdose Of Her Summer Seductions,
Synthetic Transformations Of Her Sun Caged Maze,
Interstellar Canvas Painted In Her Galactic Sage,
Searchlights Trapped In Her Floral Vortex,
Eternal Burns Streaming Spectral ***
Supernova Charades & Her Uncharted Palisades,
Dewdrops Verses Drenched In Her Toxic Shades,
Restrained Insanity & Crystal Heartbeats
Stained Perspectives Of Her Intimate Deceits,
Phantasmal Radiance To Her Billion Dreams,
Enigmatic Raves Blossoming Into Epiphanic Realms.
- 05:47 AM -*
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
Magnetic Contaminations & Audiotronic Visions,
Sublimating Poetic Transmutations Of Her Catatonic Provisions,
Primordial Metamorphosis Of Her Synthetic Overtunes,
Revealing Self-Perpetuated Biotic Tunes,
Protoplasmic Sparks In Her Cryptic Eyes,
Condensing Into Labyrinthine Whispers & Mortal Butterflies,
Myriad Phantasms On Feral Nights,
Fervid Effigies Under Moaning Lights,
Phantasmal Echoes & Mystic Whisperings,
Catalyzing Crepuscular Skies Under A Moonlit Spring,
Spiritual Crafts & Her Supernova Screams,
Evaporating Molotov Solution Of Her Liquified Dreams,
Untouched Realms & Her Ecstatic Overflows,
Refueling With Fantasy Effects Of Her Verbal Glows,
Arcane Stains & Her Floral Clones,
Primal Profanity Raining Over Her Coral Throne,
Handmade Essence Of Her Still-Born Eternity,
Recklessly Serenading Through Her Lacteal Galaxy,
Hypersonic Dreams & Venomous Virility,
Tampering Her Ionic Revelations Of Exquisite Hostility,
Progressive Factuals & Her Motionless Serenity,
Invocating Her Violets Serving Blue Infinity,
Apparitional Mirrors & Her Immaculate Misconceptions,
Weaponizing Fireflies In Whisky Perceptions.
- 05:52AM -
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
Seclusion
Tonight is a dark night
Here within the garden of the deceased-
In this place where wounded spirits who have lost their sanity
Are banned from the world outside,
Here in this desolate place where nobody sees the light of day.
I am alone where the walls are barren and
The floors have yellowed-
***** stained and tiles are cracked-
I stare at the ceiling through a curtain of tears falling from bloodshot eyes-
Moribund, I cannot escape past memories of merciless abuse which are colliding with
Recollections of profound neglect buried in the depths of a graveyard of despair-
As in a scene from a tragic film, I have become the infamous star,
I hear the wall clock outside steadily ticking
Rhythmically in time with hellions screaming from inside the fortress of my mind-
My emaciated body is robed in a sallow gown and
I can feel serpents twisted about my calves constricting.
This is a dark night-
This is a dark night where I have lost my grasp on veracity-
This is a dark night where I have been separated from the outside world-
This is the garden of the deceased, where
Phantasmal gravestones surround my dissolving soul-
My mind is in a wretched state and my thoughts are bellowing lunacy-
My cries for help have been silenced.
My worm infested brain is decaying-
I can only hear above the screaming stillness
The ticking of the wall clock outside, and
Threatening voices emanating from inside of my mind-
Putrid scents of rotting corpses infiltrate this cell and
I vociferate madness as the dirges that echo about my mind attempt to deafen me-
Neither moonlight nor sunlight can penetrate this windowless chamber-
Within this garden of the deceased where my spirit has just perished-
This is a dark night and I have been banned from the world outside-
In a desperate search for relief my outstretched arms attempt
To reach towards heaven as I can feel
My dissolving spirit sinking through the cracks in the decrepit linoleum tiles below-
I believe I can hear angels singing ‘Abide with me’ mourning the death of my soul-
The wall clock outside ticks on and on as I have lost my battle with fate-
I have become a lone cadaver buried here in the garden of the deceased-
This is a dark night where time has unobtrusively slipped away.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Shadows dance on the moonbeams,
and you can hear the screams of the souls on the old ghost road
The wild wind blows, unearthing the bones under stones in the old ghost road
The Lantern's light flickers on, still alive, never lost
Guides my way down the old ghost road
Traveling alone, riding out the cold as I brave the old ghost road
And when the moon shines like it does tonight
I love to watch them dancing
They say the departed can see you in the moonlight
And they seem to smile at me
Finding my way home
I know where I must go
Across the lands of death and snow
In the dark of the night,
By the light of the moon,
I journey on
Down the old ghost road
Lovers, warriors, troubadours, their spirits wander with me in the dust and silver mist
The stars, like purest diamonds, glistening above us, Astral sea of phantasmal bliss
The Moon, a shining goddess, blessing all the earth, her rays a tender kiss of sight
Behold!
Somehow the whole wide world is so beautiful
At the ruins of the old ghost road
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC