Bittersweet…

February 17, 2021 / Books & Bonsai / 10 Comments

I swallow my words, a slow-moving bitter taste.
Full of broken glass that burns my veins.
A storm raging inside, a fire that cannot be quenched.
Fuelled by anger, disappointment, loss,
a life lived too long.
The past doing what it does best,
haunting, stirring the mind to self-destruct.
Ghosts of those once loved smooth the sharp edges
of the hills and troughs dug by bitter memories.
It is better to have loved.
A life lived without is a hollow bubble.
The space inside too hard to handle.
So my friend if love is offered,
Take it, keep it safe.
Don’t live life in an empty bubble…

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #31 #IARTG #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction #Poetry

January 10, 2021 / Books & Bonsai / 11 Comments

The clock strikes the midnight hour
Birds sing in this snow filled empty space
Soon, smiling faces shall play there
For the next hour,
ghosts hold sway over this space
Laughing, remembering their days in the sun
Now snow, cold bites at their white fingers
Their laughter louder,
knocking snow from the leaves
Wind sweeps through the trees
Joining in their merriment
Hear, tiny voices can be heard
A whisper, will you remember us…

Do they still live here?

December 11, 2020 / Books & Bonsai / 4 Comments

My tv controls are beside me on my side table
Every now and then, they crackle
As though someone is handling it
The phone too, makes the same noise
Today I had the tv controls beside me on the couch
There it goes again, someone touching it.
I got to wondering if the previous occupants are
Still living here with me and my family
Touching strange objects and wondering what they are
Do they sit and watch tv with me?
If so, they may realise what they are touching
Trying to change channels
I often have the controls beside my leg on the couch
We might be watching something long waited for
When the tv changes channels
I get, ‘Mum, I’m watching that!’ from my son
A sideways look from Jaye
I say it wasn’t me.
I didn’t touch nor did my leg
These are old cottages we live in, built in 1887
One last thought
The people living here must be very clean
For the bath creaks late at night
Could be their time is different to ours?
I don’t mind the noise,
It has been said that houses can speak to you
Do they also have the odd shadow
Passing you in the hall?

Image by SuperHerftigGeneral from Pixabay

The creak of your bed, long after you have left it.
I have the feeling they know I don’t mind them being here
Sharing our space
After all, they were here first…

Buried Ghosts… #Poetry

November 21, 2020 / Books & Bonsai / 6 Comments

Buried Ghosts

Mountains high
Old dark scars
Black tar rivers run
High castle walls
Lords and Ladies having fun
Unearthly sounds split the night
Warning went unaided
Fools entered
Swallowed by dark inner walls
Never would angels enter
Indoor evil attracts its own
Walls scarred by sounds new, swell
Souls buried in old castle mortar
Too long they lie forgotten
Names scratched on walls
Calling out dates to remember
No visitors heeding
Their hearts unturned
By old news…

Inside my Head… #Poetry

July 2, 2020 / Books & Bonsai / 7 Comments

Inside my Head

Welcome to my mind
The cold, dark, often empty place
Until the voices start
Then it’s as if I’ve been fed liquid bliss
The world inside becomes rainbow bright
People I have known all my life, changed.
I don’t recognise their shining faces
Their pleasant ways, so happy
Did they feed on an overdose of sugar pills?
Ghosts of their former selves
Wound up, let go, clockwork toys
The other side of the coin lets the dark out
I can see black clouds above their heads
I feel the need to run, but where to?
How to get outside my head?
Walking the streets I saw ghouls, ghosts
Floating above the people
They walk backwards in front of them
Trying to touch, teasing, pulling faces
Trying to get their attention
This is where my darkness lives
Inside my head
The dead watch me with envious eyes…