Carl Gustav Carus (1789-1869) – Faust’s Dream
ARE WE ALONE?
Friends and family.
Are they with us?
I can feel them.
A thickness in the air.
A soft touch.
A slight breeze.
Is my brother gone,
Or is he still with me?
I feel him beside me.
He chuckles at my blunders.
Laughs at my jokes.
Cries when I’m hurt.
He is with me.
Always.
Forever.
Fuschia pink and turquoise blue,
colors swirling as the sea.
Velvet petals you can feel,
but with thorns as points of steel.
I present them to you, my dearest love,
the perfect beauty as the sky above.
Bright blood gushes from your punctured hand,
I should have added a marching band.
Our love is two-sided as my gift,
I know you might be a little miffed.
You crumble to the ground,
ringing the death knoll sound.
I know I made the right decision,
your death is a heaven-sent vision.
A beautiful couple.
Fun adventures.
Sad times.
Good memories.
Unhappy losses.
New house.
Children.
Grandchildren.
Parties.
Funerals.
Happy together in life.
Happy together in death.
The mist follows close at my heels,
Relentless in its pursuit.
Roots poke through the ground.
Tree limbs grab at me.
The fog clears.
The forest ends.
I’ve reached the clearing.
He waits for me.
A black stallion is his ride.
I grab his extended arm.
He lifts me behind him.
We ride like the wind.
I sigh and turn my head.
A scream is lodged in my throat.
His face isn’t of my loved one
but a mask of death.
We ride like the wind
to the ends of the earth.
Hell’s gates shut behind us.
No one is knocking on its doors.
ONLY THE DEAD KNOW
We might look human
but we’re not.
We might act human
but we love to kill.
Our fearless leader
shows no mercy.
Who is he?
Will he show his face?
Only The Dead know.
The Dead Game
Icy water surrounds me.
The cold pulls me deeper.
Deeper into the unknown,
I sink.
Waves tear at me,
dragging me far from shore.
I swim.
I tread water.
I hold my head high
Above water.
I will survive.
Secrets buried in the sand hold
hidden memories of lives gone by.
Unearthed remains tell a story.
Dug up pottery paint a picture.
Lives in the past merge with the future.
Differences become insignificant.
Time becomes transient.
The cycle begins again.
Days flow into weeks.
Weeks into years.
Years to centuries.
Centuries fly by.
Nothing is new.
The cycle continues.
Our past becomes our future.
Until the sands of time bury our existence.
Then our future becomes our past.
And the cycle begins again.
THE OTHER SIDE
What’s on the other side?
Don’t be afraid or hide.
What will you see?
Will you be free?
Color replaces black,
But watch your friend’s back.
Night creatures out for fun
In the Florida sun.
Mansions to explore.
Parties and much more.
One step at a time.
And follow this rhyme.
And soon you will be there.
Who knew it was so near?
THE DEAD GAME
Cliff House and Seal Rocks by Moonlight, San Francisco, c 1900.
The waves dance in fury,
hitting the sharp rocks.
The house towers above,
glaring at intruders.
Death to anyone
who dare to violate its shores.
THE DEAD GAME
The hallway waits.
It beckons.
A green light shows the way.
Closed doors on either side.
Cries fill the air.
A coldness descends.
Then total silence.
I inch forward.
I peer into a room.
A wheelchair sits empty.
Voices.
I step into the hallway
and follow the sounds.
The door at the end stands open.
Surgeons stand around a table.
They turn and smile at me.
They fade from sight.
Then I’m on the table.
Doctors stand above me.
I must escape.
A scalpel descends.
Too late.
