Undead poetry

whispers of poems in every generation

long forgotten

bodies may decay and become rotten

But the words hang in the cold fresh autumnal air.

The undead poet from their grave may save

humanity still

it’s a battle of wills

selling poetry at bookshop tills.

softness and grace left in memories of one’s who knew them the most

although it’s his words live on like ghosts

a gnarled wizard staff

summons the poets craft

summoning words and stanzas

and questions rhymes and answers

Pulling them from sleepy faded ink

to relive times and make us think…


A tether

not made of leather

binds us together

electric second sight

an angel wings sings of flight

you have a halo you can’t see

though it burns in my eyes

I spy, it weighs you down

but it makes you beautiful it’s your crown

dutifully fighting for what’s right

Our minds collide and I see into void

between us

but it’s our souls entwined

yours and mine

That make bells chime

stars align

signs I swallow

but I will follow your words Sophia

Goddess of wisdom

light of the soul

you understand my darkness

and my light

I see your face inside my mind.

A parents undying love (villanelle)

In the dark of evening
This is where I live, my tomb
Ghost light flickers, please keep believing!
I am sitting here, there is no leaving.
Stuck in the corner of this room
In the dark of evening.
Although in Nature’s glorious weaving
I have no shape, colour or bloom.
Ghost light flickers, please keep believing!
I am left with a heart full of caring
Trapped here in the gloom
ln the dark of evening.
My children and I are the only ones refusing
To accept my untimely doom
Ghost light flickers, please keep believing!
My children still are yet receiving
Love from me, beyond the tomb.
In the dark of evening
Ghost light flickers, please keep believing!