THE HOUSE OF POISON AND SMOKE (9/8/11, 9/10/11)

The other night in the park,

  I sat amongst shadows,

Alone-empty in the dark,

  And I would have chose,

A house of poison and smoke,

  Over lonely thought,

Bottling tears as I choke,

  Inner battles fought.

Finding myself lone again,

  Had to leave-to go,

To let those hurtful thoughts drain,

  I’d descend below,

Underground to meet the crowd,

  with poison and smoke,

under the chill of a shroud,

  as I breathe, I choke.

The ghost flies above,

It flew from its host,

As a free white dove,

Now hovers the ghost.

You may wonder, do I speak,

  Of heaven and hell?

Of the house I say is bleak,

  And skies which to dwell?

I speak only of shadows,

  Of which make me whole,

One represents my sad woes,

  The other-my soul.

A figure stalled in his place,

  I stay like a stone,

Thoughts of a beautiful face,

  She remains unknown,

And she is not beside me,

  Though I dream while I’m dormant,

Part of me’s gone free,

  The other thrives in torment.

A white dove released,

And who with me flies,

above the deceased

-in the clean air skies?

I remain in toxic haze,

  Swallow down a drought,

At the dead end of the maze,

  I linger about,

With ghost above hovering,

  Both my halves alone,

Want for what a lover’d bring,

  To warm my chill’d bones.

I would cry out to be heard,

  But I will not try,

I can think of not a word,

  My mouth has gone dry,

From the poison and the smoke,

  In the house that’s bleak,

And bottled tears that I choke,

  prevented to speak.

Where now is the ghost,

Of my conscious soul?

-flew back to it’s host

so I can be whole.

***

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