I step back, silently
feeling the fear in my chest
and my toes clinging
to the rubberized soles
of my plaid cloth shoes
as I lift one foot up and
the other foot twisted, slightly
I didn't want to get too close
Too intimate
Too anything
with the ghosts that
danced on the stairs,
there, underneath the
sign declaring "Auditorium"
Translated into
"Auditory" "Ummmm"
My breath stutters
"I don't
I don't want
I dont't want
I don't want to write"
and I write into the
pounding pulse now
cradled in my chest
The ghosts stand silently
waiting to be recollected
faces painted and clean
my own face among them
as well as looking out
the window, above, there
years ago, whispering
"What am I doing here?"
I turn, drive away
not willing yet
and praying I won't
I will get up the
nerve to look at
myself inside that
window again
Written because of Monday Poetry Potluck. Grudgingly. Because this is bringing up "stuff" in me.
Look for tomorrow's version....
Do it! hehe. The fear... the 'stuff' as you say. "Auditory" "Ummmm" > loved that. Best thing I ever learnt from those Creative Writing classes at University was the lesson: "Don't get it right, get it written". Easier said than done, sometimes I know, and everyone has deeper/different levels of 'stuff'. But once it's just damn well down in black and white, and not chancing fragments of lines, ideas swirling in a tentative mind, then one can edit till it's perfect. If you got nothing down, there's nothing to work with.
Enjoyed this visit to your blog
Warmest Salad
Luke
Posted by: Lukepraterswordsalad.wordpress.com | September 27, 2010 at 11:58 AM
creepy piece,
yet apt and lovely wording...
thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Jingle | September 27, 2010 at 12:46 PM
"Auditory" "Ummmm" My breath stutters
Wonderful Stuff! this was an excellent read!
Posted by: amanda | September 27, 2010 at 04:37 PM
haunting the way you step outside yourself to take in this perspective. i hear you--sometimes it's easier to look anywhere but within, to where all the "stuff" is quietly threatening to overwhelm...
Posted by: siubhan | September 27, 2010 at 08:02 PM
This also brought up "stuff" in me ! And it REALLY gave me the chills too! Plus, the picture you've put up totally adds to the effect! All in all, brilliant!
When those ghosts begin to haunt you, everything (including writing) seems like a really tall ask!
A very very well penned piece! Thanks for sharing it with Poetry Potluck (albeit grudgingly :))... EXCELLENT!
Posted by: Kavita | September 28, 2010 at 09:22 PM
another breath taking piece.
Thanks for sharing...
love to see you with perfect muses...
Cheers!
Posted by: Jingle | September 30, 2010 at 06:36 PM
I'm so glad you "grudingly" wrote this because it's so layered and so intriguing! Oh, those ghosts can be hard to ignore, can't they?
Posted by: Talon | October 01, 2010 at 06:50 PM