ghosts pass by


ghosts pass by.

abandoning armchairs,

stubbing out cigars,

swigging the final drop

of vintage port

they leave by the back stairs,

hanging a sign

on the closing door:

 “See You At The Parade.”


ghosts pass by,

evicted from the flophouse

of my dreams,

no longer welcome.


long squatting ended

they join the Felliniesque

fandango and pass on,

seeking another home.


swathed in scars and chains,

verdigris and fire

weeping phantoms,

restless souls and


pass by

the open window

of my night,

their haunting gaze

no longer finding me.


in feather boas,

painted rags,

stained armor

and cloaks of stars

the ghosts pass by

and I watch

their amorphous


with eyes of dawn.


this parade of shadows

shimmers with enchantment,

dark invitations

and moonlight,

but I have touched the sun,

and am exorcised by love.


painting and poem by clinock (edited redux)

10 thoughts on “ghosts pass by

  1. What a beautiful painting. Lovely posting! 🙂 Ghosts should outnumber us living creatures by now (if every dead person ends up like one anyway)


    1. generous words Carl and I thank you for them – not much more to tell than written – the worst squatters have been evicted and exorcised by the deepest caring of another – and even though I know other hauntings will inevitably take their place, for now I am at peace…


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