Ghosts Pass By…

Ghosts Pass By

Ghosts pass by.

Abandoning their armchairs, stubbing out cigars,

swigging the final drop of vintage port

they leave by the back stairs

hanging a sign on the closing door

as they go:

“See You At The Parade.”


Ghosts pass by

evicted from my pineal penthouse,

no longer welcome.

Long squatting ended

they join the Felliniesque fandango

and pass on by – animals, sprites and

crying phantoms in wheelchairs and on stilts.


Ghosts pass by

and turn their eyes my way

but no longer have a claim on me.

In wide hats, feather boas

and cloaks of stars they pass, but no longer stay

cluttering dreams for days and years

with swirling mists, droning gabble and icy threats.


Ghosts pass by

the darkened windows of my night and I

watch their two dimensional ambling

with eyes of dawn. The parade is long and filled

with fascinations, fears and the magics of moon.

But I have cut the chain

and am exorcised by love.


Painting and Poem by Clinock.

Painting: 20″ x 30″. Acrylic and oil on canvas. 2013. Click on image for more detail.

18 thoughts on “Ghosts Pass By…

  1. Hi John, this is so lovely, the painting and the poem, the reward of loving, and the good part of getting older perhaps. I see the parade…


  2. The colours in the painting are exceptional…with such rich texture. This is one that seems so yummy to be edible! I’ve been away teaching for a couple of months and it is great to catch up on my reading.


  3. You may feast on my ghosts anytime although they may play hell with your digestion…Always wonderful to hear from you Kathleen and thank you for your words…


  4. Love the painting! Loved the poem and it reminds me of Charles Dickens Christmas classic and the ghosts of the past. But could be the future! So much to it.


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