All these times, I still live in my past,
Wearing a mask even indoors,
At midnight, starring into darkness
With phantoms, roaming above the floors.
.
Quiet entourages of hometown Gods and Demons,
They follow me like my shadow,
Holding a knife to my throat
when solitude sneaks in via the window.
.
Blocking out disconcerting sentiments,
Looking up at stars, that shine bright,
I wonder what are the driving elements
sending them our way on a glint of light.
.
My entry to Jingle Poetry Potluck Week 47, Theme: history and stories.
Alphabe-Thursday: Q is for questions
A haunting poem, well done!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely beautifully written. Wow.
ReplyDeleteWell done! I felt tremendous nostalgia just reading it.
ReplyDeleteI got over that last year. It was great!!
ReplyDeleteWhat an intriguing poem. I agree that it has a haunting feel to it.
ReplyDeleteHello.
ReplyDeleteThis is a sad, haunting poem.
You penned it nicely.
Thanks for sharing.
I'm here:
Quiet Winds Of The Night
That was eerie deary! smiles..
ReplyDeleteVery lonely feel to this. Quetioning. Wondering.
ReplyDeleteHere's my offering for Potluck 48: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/08/14/the-lake/
ouch, this makes me feel scared of solitary times as demons will sneak up and haunt my time alone! :( nice wording. FELT!!
ReplyDeleteHappy potluck!!
http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/08/13/words-not-spoken/
My Potluck is here:
ReplyDeleteMake Sweet Love To Me
achingly lonely
ReplyDeleteSad to live in the past because it ruins what pleasure that can be found in the present.
ReplyDeleteSad, and haunting, but lovely.
I'm doing the ghost and demon thing myself this week.
ReplyDeleteAhhh...the poignant pain of the past. I guess that would be a better comment to leave on a post linked to the letter P.
However, since is the letter Q, I will add that I was quite moved by your poetry.
Thanks for sharing it.
A+