Nomadic Ghosts

by Max Bouillet

"...and the mark of the beast is the flesh
you wear over your bones."
--Prayer of the Unforgiving 1:13

Memories are molecular ghosts
feeding on sparse emotions
in a jaded world.

Starving, these ghosts climb
on a double helix that is
leading both to and from God,
some of these spirits
lose track of gravity
and fall from the strand.

They become
nomadic ghosts finally free from
a sense of purpose
and an obsessive need
for God.

Realizing too late that
humanity is incapable of
believing in itself,
they freeze
desperately clutching
to each other
for the warmth
of belonging.


Posted on 01/29/2005
Copyright © 2022 Max Bouillet

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 01/30/05 at 06:58 AM

i sometimes wish i was inside your mind, if only for a moment... nomadic ghosts... it makes perfect sense... chilling and simple... freaking brilliant... blessings...

Posted by Graeme Fielden on 01/31/05 at 12:50 PM

This is insightful and deeply philosophical writing, Max...what if indeed! Wow & Yowzers! Great stuff buddy :)

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/03/05 at 02:28 AM

This poem, as Graeme points out, is deeply philosophical. Gotta cogitate on this one!

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