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There are ghosts here; haunting the rooms and doorways, with your face. Your laugh. Your smile. Your silly twirl in the kitchen, And the way you liked to pull on stray strands of my hair. I hear the haunting melody of drawn out flute notes, that are just figments of my imagination, along with the piano chords of you playing a fugue with me. I stare at my flute, the traitor. I thought we had both agreed to leave you in the past. |
Copyright ©2011 Ashi Shadow -- June 26th 2011.
Inspired by feelings of Katie while listening to a part of the song Guzarish from Ghajini.
Specifically, the instrumental part around 140 seconds that sounds similar to some native american trance music.
"We" in 2nd last line is me and flute, "you" is Katie (or rather, fictional woman).
Memory's ghost poem:
http://authspot.com/poetry/memorys-ghost/
Yes,
What ghosts do exist behind your attic walls?
I peel away the yellowed wall paper to find
The remnants of lead based paint and a splintered
Paneled heart that isn’t mine; to hold
And what becomes of the renovated halls?
While the wind whistles and with ghastly calls
Teases and taunts lost hearted men of my kind
Until surrender becomes the cinderblock that tears me apart
And in time engenders my foolish soul
Copyright ©2010 by jerry. k. Bradford, All Rights Reserved