hold the flashlight up
under my chin
like a suicidal jedi knight
breathe out
empty those lungs yogi-style
in the light a vapor forms
the amorphous shape
undulates away
disappears as water droplets
spread and the temperature
between them and the adjacent air
becomes insignificant
exhale again
step into
the little cloud of myself
feel nothing
neither the sudden cooling
of nighttime sea spray
nor the volcanic steam
of the just finished running dishwasher
just nothing
and is this
–i wonder aloud to the dog–
what ghosts don’t feel
when they pass through
one another?
Tag: ghost
exoskeletal echo (20190921)
beneath the dry soil
water-smoothed rocks
the ground exhales
a fine cloud of dust
as you excavate
i found once
the desiccated remains
of a hungry ghost
translucent and as white
as the moon
in the morning sky
it had eaten its fill
and moved on to bigger
hopefully better things
though
what does a ghost eat
besides the memories
and the breaths of the living
Day 15/30 of the Tupelo 30/30 Project (20170815)
unable to panic
when the jet fuel starts to burn….
——
Don’t stop now. Read the whole thing. My poem normalcy bias is available to read at the Tupelo 30/30 project page.
Note: I was made aware of the normalcy bias from a book (I’m listening to the audio version) titled You Are Not So Smart by David McRaney. I endorse this book, as well as his podcast.
Day 13/30 of the Tupelo 30/30 Project (20170813)
the child in the shopping cart screams….
——
It’s probably not what you think.
Want to read more? You can. My poem given up is available to read at the Tupelo 30/30 project page.
Day 12/30 of the Tupelo 30/30 Project (20170812)
i have given up on words
they are poor bullets….
——
Want to read more? You can. My poem given up is available to read at the Tupelo 30/30 project page.
Day 11/30 of the Tupelo 30/30 Project (20170811)
a lantern floats in a small bowl
a sandalwood scented candle burning
just outside the front door
you always liked lotus flowers….
——
Want to read more? You can. My poem ghost is available to read at the Tupelo 30/30 project page.
(This one is a bit late. Hope to have today’s poem up soon…)
revenant (20170213)
this is how we find us
broken open
like the head of a fine
china doll
this space between
this silence a ghost
of words
this silence a slow fade
of smiles
a spectral liminal shade
we touch
the sound of yellowed paper
rustling
——
esprit accompli (20170202)
standing just beyond my door
and no one saw but me
moon-like face so ghostly pale
and eyes a dead white sea
skin of alabaster stone
her wild hair untamed
shrouded in her burial clothes
she bade me ask her name
jaw unlocked, i spoke her name
she nodded at me twice
turned to ash and then to air
for that was naming’s price
——
true night (20161017)
perfect
as a ghost is perfect
in its incorruptible form
a smile
brief
the twinkle of a star
a billion light years away
a candle not even in the same part
of the sky anymore
this illusion of a memory
lost by
closing my eyes
and letting the true night
and fading scent of
honey
wash over me
a memory of shape (20160912)
the ghosts don’t have shapes, you said
it’s plain to me because the idea of a
soul is outdated, as outdated as the
idea of the homunculus the little mad
man behind the curtain telling you to
eat cookies and scratch your ass in
public
i point out that i never equated a ghost
with a human soul merely that there
were such things as ghosts and they
most definitely have shapes if not
actual substance
if a ghost is not a soul, then what is it
you ask, pressing me further on the subject
i am about to answer when the light changes
in the room and you fade out where a
beam of sunlight illuminates where you
used to sit on the sofa
Words and Feathers 