Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Haunting

Like the moon calls the ocean, when everyone's asleep
Like the night calls the day; silently
Like the love calls the young
Like death calls the weary

You called me
I'm sure you called
And I couldnt turn away
Woe is me

And now I'm here
Past the crossroads
My bridges flaming behind me
Dont turn me away, sweet; Dont turn me away?

I was sure I heard ur voice
But now you smile and turn away
And shrug and look perplxed, harrassed, in a polite way
Embarressed, I turn around. And walk back into the flames.

Like a Shadow behind me
Flickering, never going out
The ghost, of the memories, of the love
That I had imagined with you, trailing behind me

4 comments:

LJ said...

I like, particularly, the last two stanzas and relate to expectations being ghosts, trailing behind.
"and look perplexed, harrassed, in a polite way.." is painful and very clear.

Prerona said...

Thank you :)

Enemy of the Republic said...

Prerona,

Sorry that this comments things isn't doing as it should--I've been playing with the HTML, doing exactly as blogger says and look what I get. Anyway, I like your poem very much and in a way, we seem to be thinking on a similar wavelength. You will see what I mean with the poem, for good or for bad, that I plan on posting today.

goatman said...

Prerona,
Really nice name!
Lost love will be with us forever. Strangely enough the
recall of the experience never leaves.
Peace

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