I’m Serious Really

As I embark on this journey but I’m dead as far as I know. I was sitting there and he peed on me, just stood there and peed but I didn’t get wet, then he walked away. Disgusting. Nothing much to see I can tell you that but I wiped flushed and left, at least in my world. Outside now I don’t feel much, not wind, not even a breeze, am I real at all? Where will I go? Maybe the bank. When was the last time I got Social Security? Might just like the balance. Could be benefits… beneficial.

Two roads, one very dark, one much brighter almost looks warm. Which way? More like which one gets me to the bank? Should it be the dark road?

Says who?




No vampires today I am so ashamed

Not really but watched an old black and white

A murder mystery a writer writing a story an audience privy as it unfolds

People shot but no blood no mangled bones though they fought

Frightened women in heeled slippers long flowing nightgowns

Hair tied up proper but at night long braids or just flowing down their backs

Lots of screaming they prevailed

They’re tough enough

And burning woods or a wood garage why burn things down

Clever murderer he thought they are weak predictable but he lost

Bats the mascot some rabid but no foaming at the mouth so many suspects

Long clawed gloves to tear the throat but no dripping scratches

Less to clean up

Then ghosts collected to be studied they exist

Money hidden but a spirit protects

A gruesome appearance as apparitions go

Forces the bad guy to his death so now there are 14

14 ghosts that see you to the door or did they leave

That the threat is no more

Did they leave I couldn’t tell but the witch knew

Housekeeper medium she might know a guy or she used to

If they all went for a walk ’cause they could and would be back

A happy ending hard to say depends how you look at things

Snow fluttered then swirled as I watched covering the lawn chair stiff and rusted

Desolate not beauty in death covered in silent white

A titan passed by, a frost giant, an ice beast, ghosts bring the cold

Who was it I couldn’t say


If You Pour A Shot Of Espresso Into A Mug It’s Still Only A Shot

I woke with that sense of impending doom, that death feeling but I think I should go back to sleep, work time is soon. Four a.m. comes around and I should get the last couple of hours. Executive decision I know what to do, or I knew.

I did lay down, put in a movie to nod off but I think I watched it; there wasn’t much left. I wanted my mind to stop but it won’t, it wouldn’t, that’s not how it works still, I think I slept. Crazy dreams never mind repose, I’m up to make that espresso now. Should wipe that blood off the keyboard, off the laptop.


Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: