Our Own Skull

Slow turning wheels of the distanced brain

Psychosis deeper in those that are sane

Footsteps… Bones are creaking… as the floor board warps

Another dimension I’m going to, when my body’s a corpse

Glowing apparition of a spiritual superstar

Ongoing metamorphosis has gotten us this far

*

Words drip off his tongue like blood from a vial

Says what’s channeled through him, he just wants you to smile

Strangest thing, they once thought he did

Was misunderstood from when he was a kid

If he spoke to the dead or worshipped the grave

They beat him down until he’d rant and rave

*

Earth splits open and spirits bellow out

Zombies from all directions when we have self-doubt

Faces in the rain like mirrors in the dark

The monster he’s become like fire from a spark

Sinister views of stigma

Trouble, a friend of mine

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s Frankenstein

*

Beauty and kind energy, wilder than most

Rise and shine like the sun, one powerful ghost

From torture chambers of the deepest dungeon

A waft of salvation, for a room so pungent

Spirits climb higher to eternal life

Bonds of suffering cut free by the daily bread knife

Thread of spiders’ cut 🕷

*

Sorry, I guess ‘Normal’ has left the building

More than a ghost, a door-mouse, back with a guilt-thing

A full-on rat has crept into my head

Like the one my black cat dropped off in my bed

No tricks just treats from this creepy twit-stalker

I hope you can laugh at our zombie-walk shocker!

*

Witch’s verse was a curse, wove my crush on tombs

Mysterious life kills me fast, like poison mushrooms

Some strains take away sunshine, take me to body bags

To be resurrected, by toothless bearded hags

Then when I died in 1992, all I could say was “I love all of you”

And I still do

*

If we could put all our inner fire in one big pot and stir

I think we’d find an answer and maybe a cure

We all want to be ok inside our own skull

To me we need to reach out in ways that don’t ever get dull

Share music and poetry and honest words spoken

Both daring and caring and let no hearts be broken

*

From an open crypt, I hear the dead’s calm call

Visions and voices come from a handheld crystal ball

Vampire sighs when we see our reflection

October frost on our breath and mystic protection

Werewolves watch over us and creepy clowns cower

Halloween Eve, we break through unholy power

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