[Newspoetry] Hauntings

[DL Emerick]

I am only a haunted man,

Wanting what I do not have,

Haunted by what no one has.

 

Ghosts haunt me, strangely.

The ghosts of images in my mind:

These are never merely things --

They are spirits in the fullest sense.

They are always unchecked emotions,

Reactions to prior experiences,

Of things, perhaps, but more so,

Of what people do, most unforgettably,

Which appears in what they say,

Of their intentions, behind what they do.

 

The mismatch, of their intentions,

Which I can only infer at most,

And their actions is a vast gulf,

One that swallows placid reason,

For, even if I would be charitable,

Rationally speaking, my mind isn't.

 

No, my mind is a hybrid creature,

Like a unicorn, part real and part unreal,

Part id, part beyond id, me in the middle.

When awake, mostly by day, or by night,

I can control my id, what lies beyond id:

I can be me when I awake, fully aware.

 

But, control is not possible, asleep:

The ghosts of id and beyond id waken

Just in moments when I fall asleep,

And then become haunting terrors,

Prowling grotesquely as my dreams.

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