Spectral Poems

Ostrich Shell : specular verse

  


my ostrich shell painted with 

               springbok and entangled daisies 

                     blowing in icy wind

I drink yolk and albuminous 
               whisperings along rushing waves

                        we are soft dreams where 

                               a fishing boat stood
 buildings now deserted 

                               ¥

                    storehouse freshly painted in ochre 
                    fishing nets drawn alleluia 
                    dreams float with the sardines 
                    drinking coke we celebrate catch
                    wind skips along Hout Bay shore
                    daisies clap wild petals yellow
                 shells smashed we eat boiled yolk



                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

magenta blaze : specular

eyes dazed by magenta blaze

            skin torn by piercing thorn

                      blood drop tickles zinc hole in morn


she knows her season is done

               a petaling head will droop under afternoon’s Sun

                         abundance is a prime piano note

                              •¥¥•

frugal the piano notes sound

                 her head erect at midday

her season embraces her

                   with blood bleeding through as blush

her skin translucent calls

                       magenta gaze closes lids

She's Still With Me

She came tonight, a whisper soft,  
As I lay reading, lost in thought.  
Her warmth curled close, a phantom grace,  
And time dissolved in her embrace.  

The book fell silent in my hand,  
Her breath was there, I swear I felt.  
A tear broke free, then came the flood—  
A river born of love and guilt.  

Three decades gone, yet still she stays,  
A shadow dancing through my days.  
She left because they locked me in,  
For sins I never did commit.  

She couldn’t bear the bars between,  
The silence stretched too far, too wide.  
She chose the stars, the final flight—  
And left me here to ache and write.  

I never let her fade from view,  
Her name still trembles on my lips.  
I love her still, I always will,  
Through every crack my heart equips.  

Why, Baby, why? We’d still be whole,  
If fate had not betrayed our soul.  
But maybe love defies the grave—  
And finds a way to still be brave.  

So let the spectral glow remain,  
A light that cuts through loss and pain.  
She’s still with me, in dreams, in breath—  
Love outlives even death.

Spectral Waves Unraveling

Where do the colors we see arise?
Not from sun’s bright, light guise,
But from its white, split and spun,
Through raindrop prisms, one by one.
A spectrum forged in falling rain,
That spills color on Earth's domain.

Red blazes in autumn’s gaze,
In maple leaf fire and embers haze.
It's rouge in a rose’s velvet flare,
Smeared on dusk and dawn with flair.

Orange glows on apricot and fox coats.
On pumpkin skins and marigolds it floats.
It's the color of fleeting flight,
In between go and woe, out of sight.

Yellow shouts from nodding daffodils,
From golden zest of lemon's thrills.
The hue of bees and cheery canaries.
The lipstick of sand beside the sea.

Blue is ocean's hue and a sigh,
when mood is dark and wry.
Its Forget-me-not's, in gardens weeping,
Blue-jays leaping skyward sweeping.

Indigo beckons twilight to go to night,
To lift a plum to lips, and take a bite.
It's the regal dye of kings and queens,
For clothes fit for their royal scenes.

Violet haunts lavender fields at rest.
Whispers in crocus blooms, moon-blessed.
Lingers in bruises and storm-swept skies.
Closing the curtains, as scene of day, dies.

A Spectral Owl

Cloaked in a fitting grey suit and bow tie,
She floats like paper kites across meadows.
From a hollow in a tree, her eyes pry~
Her loud hoot startles nearby sleeping crows.

The spectral owl, with her faint, surprised look,
Watches as the crows flee into the dark.
Then silence reigns, curbed only by a brook,
And chirps of birds in the dark forest park.

Within calm meadows nestled in the hills,
The great grey owl sights frogs, snakes, and mudfish.
She floats on broad wings, drawn by hunger’s thrills~
A feast just enough to grant her one wish.

As dusk gives way to the coming sunlight,
To a hidden branch, she flew for a nap~
To await the call of another night,
And avoid the birder’s photograph trap.

Spectral Splendor

dew crafts
crown on grass
gold flakes fall with leaves
fire furrow paves garden path
gilded trees adorn autumn’s spectral splendor

Spectral Dryads

Written: April 4th, 2024
                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Behold, arrays of dreamy dryads, 
With lacy halos of azure and amethyst dyads
Their ethereal presence, a sight to admire, 
As they dance and sway, akin to celestial fire. 

Their beauty, a tapestry of nature's art, 
A symphony of colors, playing apart. 
In their delicate grace, they enchant and enthrall, 
A poetic vision, captivating all.

Wisteria, a symphony of divine, 
Sinuous chimes of silky lilac entwine.
As they sway to the rhythm of my soul
Sibilant rustles of a silver breeze consol.

Within the sphere of vibrant hues, 
Melodic whispers softly infuse. 
Lullabies, akin to gentle streams, 
Echo through the world of dreams.

Through winding paths, I roamed alone, 
To my scarlet nest, my heart true tone.

The Spectral Light

Down the winding road of life,
My spirit leads the way.
On a course, I know not where,
Yet I'm grateful for the day.

I stop to look upon the past,
Then forge a path ahead.
Each step brings me closer still,
To a fate I cannot shed.

In the distance I see a light
And a voice calls out to me.
Stating that the time has come,
To set my mind and spirit free.

Heeding to this beckoned call,
I journey forth unafraid.
The spectral light begins to dim,
And I lie down in the shade.

The Spectral Magic

Monsoon, the tricky magician has drawn
A spectral  stripe ,high from left to right
The  sly  violet slackens to turn into red,
The weary sun has travelled since dawn
Yet  glows  yond on the horizon to infuse
Lively spirit  in the drab  day ,  almost gone,
And smiles hopefully promising to return;
Abracadabra : The message stands to fawn :
As vanishes the gloom of the heavy night -
To  turn  into  red  the  sly  violet  slackens
Forming  the mid-one - green along  the lawn .
, the tricky magician has drawn
A spectral  stripe ,high from left to right
The  sly  violet slackens to turn into red,
The weary sun has travelled since dawn
Yet  glows  yond on the horizon to infuse
Lively spirit  in the drab  day ,  almost gone,
And smiles hopefully promising to return;
Abracadabra : The message stands to fawn :
As vanishes the gloom of the heavy night -
To  turn  into  red  the  sly  violet  slackens
Forming  the mid-one - green along  the lawn .

A Spectral Blessing

May Unitarian Universalists sustain
active faith 
in Both/And integral feelings/thoughts
co-gravitating intentions,
nuanced principles
of UniversalTruth greets UnitarianBeauty.

In these ways,
in this public health emergency 
climatic time,
may we join with good faith multiculturing
healthy democratic Others

Less invested in partisan elite-insider knowledge
and also not feeding and watering
non-elite Outsider fear
and anger of sensory-sexual sanity
necessary for building
and retaining a healthy cooperative 
wealthy democracy

And may we always listen for a resilient,
inclusive 
sustainable multicultural optimizing
green new nature/spirit Indigenous Deal
co-investing divinely-humane balance

For restoring healthy ego-sufficient peace
and eco-justice interdependence
throughout our interfaith 
ecopolitical
cooperative 
therapeutically uniting spring days 
and full moon nights.

Sonnet 90, Spectral Rising

Sonnet 90, Spectral Rising (Shakespearean)

As the last dead leaf falls from a tall tree,
spiraling into piles upon the sleigh;
the sun drops into the furious sea;
time for the winter and darkness to play.

In a blasphemous act of regaling
Reach from the cold earth resting in your grave;
To the hate and lies forever-failing.
Recapturing the breath your mother gave.

A soul contains sonnets gifted to all.
serenades of sweet grace, beauty and love.
Your life was born from decadence and sprawl
admit defeat and grasp wings of a dove.

Spend time reading a weathered, gray headstone
Floating from the house of the dead, alone.


2/24/2021
Ghost Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward

Our Spectral Guest

We called our Bed and Breakfast the Presidents’ House 
A sprawling antebellum Italianate with a rich historical past 
Fed our guests tasty nourishing breakfasts of presidential repast 
Served by an eighteenth century-adorned raconteur, my spouse. 
Our guest house was known for its spectral residents merry 
Many we met, got to know, and interacted with over the years 
Some got acquainted with our guests if they showed no fears 
Prominent to visit from the house of the dead was Ms Jerri. 
She was sassy, could be mischievous; at times playful and sweet 
Until they met Jerri or her friends some were reluctant to believe 
Other guests agreed what the mind believes the eyes can achieve 
Once a female guest became quite ill and chose to stay in her suite 
When she got over her flu and came down to breakfast one day, 
She wanted to know who had visited her and massaged her feet. 
She insisted this was one fine woman she wanted, in person, to meet. 
We told her then, in great detail, about Jerri our shadowy spirit’s stay.

Written on February 12, 2021
For "Ghost Contest"
Sponsored by Julia Ward

Spectral

The cleansing auras
Burst with prisms of color
With spectral rainbows

Obligatory Phrases

revealed obligatory phrases turn out of tone
a deafening roar cascades in to the abyss
purging spectral visions barred from presenting
all in the name of truth yet never to behold
perspective lends credence but believed not so
easy to ride the train when it leaves the station
side tracking onto no where takes guts of
steel girders not withstanding the hastened
presence of crystallized thought...delicate
sounds issued, undeniable death roll of motion
hedged bets...the gods played a good game again
icing down the planet...the timing is understood
as everything expresses as part of the whole...
agreed upon or just fate?

Spectral Dream

I found myself in a distant place,
An ethereal presence was by my side,
Surrounded by trees in a darkened wood, 
I Instinctively felt he was to be my guide.

To where, I dared not guess or know,
This chimera beckoned me to follow,
towards where I saw a light shine bright,
Down a craggy lane into a hollow.

The forest around me seemed alive,
As I followed the spirit towards the light, 
The spectre stopped and pointed down,
Where my gaze fell on a piteous sight.

There before me all writhing in pain,
Where soldiers who fell on Flanders fields,
Towards the light they tried to crawl,
And those who got there rose into the air.

The scene dissipated and turned into mist,
That I should rise next I quickly dismissed,
Waking from a dream I breathed a big sigh,
At least not today would I rise into the sky.

• Short Spectral Poems
• Famous Spectral Poems
• Best Spectral Poems
• Read Spectral Poems
• Long Spectral Poems
• Spectral Quotes