Tag Archives: Ghosts

Halloween on the East Coast of Nowhere

poetry, Words, , , , ,

In the descending fog, someone’s getting lost. Late night tales are telling, Hell-o-ween, I said! How’s my spelling?

It’s the trick and no treat, that slow knock on the door, from no-one. Those masked, silent at your gate, come on now kids, pack it in! It’s getting late!

Do they celebrate death and worms? Tell me what you heard, what you saw? Now tell me again, ok, prove it to me, I want the gory details, do you see!

Because, everybody in the house might scream! And something in the house might go arrrrgh! One by one in the house they will go!?! Hello? Anyone left?

We love the scare; we love the violence, for it’s a full moon tonight, how nice – (silence).

A Stir In the Echoes (From A Past Design)

creative writing, poetry, Words,

In the peripheral

Of crescents

Cul-de-sacs

Disrespected alleyways

Lost behind dull signs

Fleeting

In reflections

The unfathomable

Memory Vapour

Often distant

Sometimes fading

Throbbing vibrantly

Forever fading

In tangent

With the pulse

Of those

Who

Project them

Still touch

The finest hairs

Of the passer-by

The unknowing