For NaPoWriMo Day 13, the prompt is:
“Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something mysterious and spooky! Your poem could be about something that is mysterious and spooky in a bad way (like a witch), or mysterious and spooky in a good way. . .”
Credit: Ron Smith via Unsplash.
No ghosts or goblins,
No rattled breath wheezing.
No spirits haunting from crimson murder houses,
No cursed black cats yowling; only memories arising.
People forgotten, ones I shouldn’t forget,
Faces and moments, but life’s not the kindest,
Then, sometimes it’s roses, inhaled intoxication.
Sometimes it’s gentle waves and childhood carousels; finely carved horses, lively tunes.
Vivid and perceptive, ice-crystal memories,
Riding in a car down the road, breeze blowing hair back, sunglasses and red Polk-a-dot scarf.
Then, the day ends and mist enshrouds these golden-hours,
Seeming ghosts, as ever present’s failure you can’t escape.
Good-times as mint-chip ice cream from a farm, rich and intoxicating,
You could live forever on these fumes –but the seconds keep ticking.
And once you had a goal, talent, imagination, and purpose,
Now the blurry fog of all-hallows-eve sneaks in, and you’re exhausted.
Your form in the mirror, not transparent, but a wisp of your true self,
What you strive for, as you cringe at more closed doors, more ‘no’s.’
And, perhaps, the scariest truth isn’t the monsters who creep or scream,
But the visage of yourself on a rough road you never pictured.
In a life you’re still trying to master, and will only leave twisted,
But, perhaps that’s everyone’s truth, and maybe it’s your outlook?
Maybe carousel music, and butter-salt popcorn is still a possibility?
If only for a nano-second, to have peace and security; utter joy.
To flourish and be better than those memories and faces, gone with the sunrise,
To rest in bed, not holding your breath by a graveyard.
For, no matter the circumstance, there’s always, it is said –hope.
©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.