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Ghost
by Kristina WoodhillSecretly I'm sure
I've always wanted a ghost
Not the noisy Marley version
Shaking chains and threats
Into Scrooge's hardened face
Attempting to melt an iced-over heart,
Prying open fists pre-paired
For a statue's engraved life,
Nor the horrific visage
Of a life ripped unnaturally
Through the veil
Pulled back then forth,
A see-saw of King's pet cemetery monster
Moooooaaaaaans
Are not what my ears desire to hear
Groooooaaans
Do not chill my senses
Madness visits me occasionally
As I rummage through memories
Of ancient ruins along the Helmand,
Q'ala Bost besieged by one of the Khans,
Me exploring Rome's Coliseum
As a young teen imagining hungry snarling lions,
The hotel in Beirut, dear brother, where you and I
Both thought the hotelier seemed to channel Dracula
I keep expecting the past to instruct the present,
Reassign rainbows and reapportion pots of gold
Perhaps it is simply
That I am already deep in the urn,
An adult fighting
To let the child rest
God figure whispers
Incense eagerly follows the exhale
03/05/2016 Author's Note: Edits
Posted on 03/06/2016
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 03/06/16 at 07:11 PM *****STELLAR*****
Kristina, I thoroughly enjoyed this, perhaps more so because of it's authentic reality rooted in your personal and most real experiences. Deep empathy is channeled through these creatively constructed words and I suck them right up. I feel the loss of a brother too. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/08/16 at 06:25 PM As someone with a life long attraction to the paranormal, both physically and poetically, really enjoyed this gem of white light, Kristina. |
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