Ghosts

How cruel is life? – The game we must play

Till the bitter end of our days

We have our roles, but know no rules

For this – this vicious cabaret

With a clang and a cling, they come

And take the curtains away

Leaving us alone in this –

This vicious cabaret

Exit stage left – You’ve played your part

Your cameo is over.

The vicious cabaret

Continues without you

And so you stand trapped with

Your frozen smile as you await

Your cue – in the crazy mardi gras

Called life – a vicious cabaret

The dark masks and pretty costumes

Hide the truth – the great joke of life –

A tragicomedy played, populated and watched

By ghostly shells trapped in their human machines

Yet – we hunger for the embrace

Of machines – though they quicken our demise

with their harsh embrace in this –

This vicious cabaret

Desperate we are for love

Desperate we are for respite

From the game of life

And its vicious cabaret

Desperate we are for escape –

To a land of do as you please

Desperate for escape from the cold

And far away from the ghosts

The ghosts in the machine that haunt

The ghosts in our shells that taunt

The ghosts that know the secret truth –

There is no escape from this demented gag.

All we have is the realization

And the wait – the cold, long, hard wait

When we all become what we fear...

Ghosts

The Last Dance

Inspired by Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Christabel

The one red leaf, the last of its clan

That dances as often as dance it can

Fears not so much the dark

For it has more to fear of the light

In the light of the day, come the forlorn

The light of the day brings the buzzing

The faint, unmistakable sound delivers an ill wind

Of rolling cascades tinged with misery

Then come the men in multicoloured coats

Revving fast, with the harbingers of doom

Whose touch spells the collapsing, final end,

The end of days for all the tall beings

The end of days for the tall beings,

Came, but alas, it did not pass by

The one red leaf, the last of its clan

That will never dance as often as dance it can

Broken Hourglass

Tick Tock

Bloodied, but unbowed

Once upon a day

In a land far away

On a bleak Thursday in November

Came the darkest evening of the year

A child was born

Naked as the morn

Then tick tock

Began the clock

His beginning had come too early

Its start would prove so dreary

Pitiful wails filled the air

All looked on in despair

His end may come, his end may not

But fate is a foe that cannot be fought

And yet still, tick tock

Continued the clock

By chance, his demise was delayed

And life began with a debt to be paid

In time the boy grew strong and brave

Fought the throngs and battled knaves

Kept his nose down to the grindstone

Moved through life’s dead-end zones

And yet still, tick tock

Went the weary clock

Though the skyline fades into night

It will look brighter in hindsight

We have nothing but time, as tick tock

Always goes the clock

FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY

Flowers in the valley

Standing in your majestic glory.

Soft white clouds lean down to kiss you.

The radiant sun shines for you, so true.

Look upon its beams of bright lights,

Showing majestic and wondrous sights.

Red in the morning, blue in the evening sun,

Snatching breath away from everyone.

                                 

Blue skies gaze down at you in awe,

So secure, Lily white and pure.

In the hills and highlands, you survive

In the cold breezes, you thrive.

The crescent moon shines on your face

As you bravely carve out your space

Drenched in beautiful twilight

You survive every cold night.

When night light fades to blue

It is never the same without you

Your petals sparkle in the night

How do they glow so bright?

Morning dew paints your flowers

Rain clouds bless you with showers

As you flutter down gently

In all your majestic glory

Your splendour is a wondrous mystery

Plain as night and day for all to see

No heart could fail to see your beauty

Flowers in the Valley

FROZEN DREAMS

Once again, the seasons have changed,

And replaced their many coloured cloaks.

The night air fills with my breath,

On solitary drives in the cold, snowy nights.

 Beneath the gleaming ballroom lights,

Time slowly ticks by like sand

Through a miniature hourglass as

The frozen beach moves beside me.

The beauty of the world is a revelation

That fills my sleep with dreams,

Of the time passed with,

And without, your shining face.

Of tap dancing on the moon,

And writing an ode on the sun

Of being a passerby who finds a place to stay

Of throwing caution to the wild wind

And taking the cold plunge into the sea

Maybe the high tide will take me far away,

Breaking waves will flow through submerged caves,

The brilliant colours of the rainbow will fall like snow,

My Technicolor life will be transformed,

For though we are now steeped deep in winter,

Spring must come again. Spring will come again.

If I reached across the galaxy, I would whisper

In your ear – Oh how I wish I could be there.

I still dream of the splendour of your brown eyes,

Your quiet grace and I wonder, I sometimes wonder.

When the sun peeks through, on cold winter days,

Do you ever stare at frozen creeks across the wild yonder?

Do you ever stare across the frost-blanketed fields?

And even for a moment, dream of me too?*

FOREVERMORE – GUEST POEM FROM MATTHEW KAIKAI

It’s still there

On the outside, you’re fine

But you are hurting on the inside

I don’t know how I hurt you

You brushed it off

But the pain is still there

I might not see

It’s still there

If I say sorry

It won’t make a difference

The insult was said

The damage was done

It’s a vicious cycle

That comes back

And never goes away

It’s still there

GOOD OLD FASHIONED NIGHTMARE

If our dreams are a window to our souls,

Then my database must be corrupted,

I talked to the moon, and it never heard me.

I drove to a destination, and never reached it.