The night is warm and silent, breezeless trees stand still as corpses,
Intrusive venomous thoughts begin to enter through old wounds,
Convulsions of memory shake themselves into a distorted reality,
The familiar unwanted feeling begins to ripple itself up the spine,
Discomforts’ creeping fingers create a buzz at the back of the neck,
The skin begins to crawl, numb at first, before the unreachable itch,
It feels like a thousand tiny spiders suddenly marching across the skin,
The edges of vision begin to dull and darken into shadowy haze,
Uneasy hands begin to reach for the nearest item of solid comfort,
But it’s too late, we have arrived, the rational mind has left the building,
Now, there is only panic.
Under a Red Ribbon: A Dream Sequence
In a small grey, empty room with no windows, a spotlight illuminates,
A wooden chair, where a thin man in a white suit sits patiently,
Grey haired and spectacled, his eyes are open and alert,
His feet are comfortable, and his hands rest gently on each knee,
A red ribbon hangs down above his head, gently moving in unseen breeze,
A white cat enters, performs one rotation of the man then exits,
Unmoved, he closes his eyes, and listens to the sound of ocean waves,
The room slowly fills with swirling cool water.
Then all light goes out.
Are we ghosts?
Ghosts whisper on the evening wind,
They are the blurred faces of distant times,
Their energy spent, locked in hollow places,
Existing, not knowing that their time has passed,
Sometimes doors are locked that shouldn’t be,
There are times when we move unnoticed,
Moments when we’re not acknowledged,
Have we passed from the memory of others?
How can we be sure that we’re not a ghost?
Lost at Sea
My heart feels lost at sea,
Adrift, I am directionless,
Home feels like a distant memory,
I long for solid ground underfoot,
I’m on an ocean vast and featureless,
I hear the sound of distant ships,
Focus seems impossible,
My head swims with thought,
Waterlogged and weary, IÂ drift on,
I fight fatigue as night falls again,
I see no lights on the horizon,
No welcoming lanterns on the beach,
How long must I fight this current?
The night is cold and dark,
Not a spec of light shows,
Until the dawn of a new day,
Tears and ocean water are as one,
I drift on, keeping my head above water,
Until the day my heart makes landfall.
Empty Kingdom
Do you hear that calling, in the midnight hour,
Can you hear the lonesome crying, of bitter tears so sour,
Far away from this place, kept by the unseen,
The restless King of hearts, awaits his absent Queen,
Her throne is cold without her, and his heart the same,
Nobody understands, their constant toil and pain,
They mask themselves to outside eyes, to hide their suffering,
These are the days of the healing Queen, and her broken King.
No light without you
I have no light,
It does not shine within me,
This globe has no power,
This diode will not emit,
I have no light,
Until you flick the switch.
Quiet at the water’s edge, The
The final rays of sunlight fall,
Golden and fading as they crawl,
At the water’s edge shadows unfold,
A wrapped body laying prone and cold,
Washed onto cold stones from who knows where,
Dumped with malice and without care,
With cold white skin and glazed blue eyes,
Staring lifeless into the darkening skies,
Silent within the suns dying glow,
Christened Jane today, her surname Doe.
The Rude
I sit upon my own doom-laden eve,
Nothing seems solid, nothing is usual,
Everyone seems disinterested, or ignorant,
Zero communication breeds hostility,
An anger builds due to anxiety,
It takes nothing to acknowledge, lift your game,
A lesson is learned, those who should matter don’t,
Expect a comparative reply, lesson result = fuck you!
All the tech in the world cannot fix the fucking rude.
Keep of Hollowness, The
There is a hollowness deep inside,
A place I crawl into when I need to hide,
Where nothing can emotionally affect me,
It’s a safe numb place that no one can see,
Something activates behind my eyes,
And another me removes his flimsy disguise,
While I’m curled up within in my hollow place,
The other me now owns my face,
He’s uninterested in what you have to say,
He feels nothing for what you wish to convey,
He is my protector, he’s my defensive shield,
Guarding the inner me while I’m being healed,
Until a change within fills this hollow space,
There’ll be no emotion, there’ll be no embrace,
He’s insincere, his actions are purely robotic,
He’s a wall, dividing me from a world so chaotic,
Someday the colour will return to my eyes,
The other me will fade, once the chaos subsides,
Leaving me present again, with no need to hide,
Within the Keep of Hollowness, that I’ve built inside.
Rainbows in the dark
Eyes closed, my stretched form has become at one with the couch,
Keyboards pan and echo, blending with a deep drone,
Visiting from 1979, the guitar of Steve Hillage floats through time and space,
In the darkness, the sound of shapes form, morph, and drift away,
Rainbow Dome Musick gives every colour a soundtrack,
The pitch rises and the four ever rainbow meets its crescendo,
The drone lowers, the keys swell, and new sonic doorways are unlocked,
43 minutes and 49 seconds have passed since it feels like I’ve taken a breath,
The rainbow’s drone fades out into an echo, and I’m left in silence,
I am at peace; my mind feels like it has been through a Garden of Paradise,
Cleansed, pure, and ready for sleep.
Dan Verkys 