Sunday, October 27, 2013

spectral

Shapes in spectral forming,
dusted through deep shadow,
images alarming;
mind has travelled far.

Worlds are in collision,
edges blurred and drawn,
past and future beckon;
ghosts are slowly called.

Imagination holds the night,
reality the day,
then swapping places suddenly;
brings thoughts in disarray.

Solid drowns emphatically,
ephemeral holds court,
the spirits rise in unison;
nothing as we thought.

http://dversepoets.com/2013/10/26/poetics-the-lighter-side-of-ghouls-goblins/#respond


8 comments:

  1. Love the rhythm of this.. and that ghost - go poof in the daylight.

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  2. the rhythm makes me think perhaps the spirits are doing a little dance...
    and i have no problem believing it is nothing like we think..
    i would be surprised if the afterlife is anything like we think

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    Replies
    1. I suspect the afterlife is more familiar than has been imagined.

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  3. ah - when the worlds blur... can surely carry some disarrangement with it.. love the rhythm in this

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  4. 'Tis the season when ghostly connections seem to float just below the surface. Well done.

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  5. Switching places, indeed! Fine poem.

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  6. Gorgeous writing-specially loved the last two verses:-)

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