Shadows and Ghosts

You feel it when you leave.

There is an inner burning sensation, its location is random or maybe not. The sensation starts off numb but soon it’s aflame.

As you walk it’s felt in your stomach, swirling fires.

It falls to your feet as each step is like a hammer banging, banging…

You can sense it moving towards your eyes and dropping one by one into your conscience.

Shadows and ghosts flying around, bouncing, like a hammer…

The darkness creeps in and you realize it was that all along.

Them two eyes squinting your way, thoughts of Satan disguised as a savior. There ain’t no true angels in this world, son, so make it true, make it real and be your own angel. Love is a lifesaver for the ones casting it to the waters, love is a safety net thrown by the ones about to leap, love is what the lover is looking for not for what you yearn for.

Empty streets at dawn, sun exploding in the sky towards the East, the birds awakening, the street lights are blinking, blinking, off.

You walk, you find yourself lost for direction. You want to pray but words don’t do the job.

Wandered off, from the street, towards the house lined roads, where the milk man delivers and the ice cream man stops, the sun always shines while the flowers erupt in colors never seen.

You turn around, you have no right to be here as you hear her calling you back, the sounds of the hammer inside your head drown her calling out.

You hear your given name and it’s bouncing in time to the hammers pounding, pounding… lost.

The possibility that somebody wants you, somebody cares is only a dream, you say.

Cause, love is an emotion, love is just a song, love is for the needy, love is for the emotionally poor.

Pounding over and over; like a heart beating, never truly in control; feeling out of control, off rhythm, off beat.

Like a stray dog, an alley cat or a leaf on the ground, in the rain, stepped on and trampled upon—lost in shadows and ghosts.

A lone figure is walking through the leaves, through the park on the west side of the city. A shadow of a moving figure slowly disappears from sight with a gust of wind.

A gust of wind, dust blown, smoke rises from the lake across the park…

Love is the answer—but love is more than an emotion between people—it’s love of life and the stuff that fills it—love is more than you and I.

It’s around noon now and the sun is beating down on this November afternoon, the rain has dried from the ground and brisk wind is carrying winter our way.

Its a brick wall, it's a hunter's trap, it's a raging river it's a death of sorts. Rainbows over the horizon, clouds are still forming. Dry lightning, dust storms and ghost towns; where is the gold? Where is the rain?

There is this sense of dread no one can understand, a sense of darkness or of walking through black tar in the dark, yeah, its like walking through black tar in the darkness. You strain your legs to move just one inch, you grasp for something to hold onto to keep you from falling, but there is nothing there for you... Does that explain this feeling I have? An overwhelming sense that nothing, nothing is going to make sense ever?

You point towards the evil eyes and the spiritual and you ask for some release from their grasp...you stand up and look for the door...

You feel it when you leave; the pain manifests through short tempers, emotional rollercoasters and frustrated stragglers walking the station looking for some answers, a connection or some sort of recognition.

It’s all right, it’s alright, it’s all going to be all right.

An unbroken faith, a glance to the sky, an overarching rainbow and in the blink of an eye…