Visitors

 

It all started with the dreams.

Nightmares and visions,

torturous screams.

It was like we were all watching the same movie scenes

played to us on internal cinema screens.

Deserted wastelands, desolate red countryside

and us all fleeing.

Rats trying to hide.

 

The itch began.

Deep inside the head.

Like insects were crawling inside,

flittering over things we've said.

Scratching did nothing to dull the itch,

it was infernal.

Nothing to do but feel the twitch

of this irritation internal.

 

Then came the rain,

the atmosphere was charged.

Storms filled the drains.

Through the rain voices filled our brains.

A language that we didn't understand,

not like human words,

projected sounds and visions into our pineal glands.

Filled our minds with images,

dark and vivid.

 

Then they came,

in ships that blocked out the sun,

from the stars.

We had nowhere to run.

They just hovered above.

Watching.

Waiting...

Were they expecting a welcoming?

or were they baiting?

To see if we would take our normal path.

Throw some missiles at them,

and not worry about the aftermath.

 

We did of course,

It is all us humans seem to be good for

death, destruction and war.

But it was like throwing stones at a tank

our nukes didn't make a dent,

collective hearts sank

and the ships still loomed in the air.

 

Gunpowder, pollution and radiation

was what the creatures were craving.

The atmosphere perfect for them to breathe.

They exited their ships

and took over the lands beneath.

They allowed us to live.

Worked us to death on their pollution machines,

slaves to their needs

and when we had served our purpose,

on us they would feed.

 

 

Thanks For Reading,

Peace, Love and Poetry.

Kyle

Haunted Inn

 

This my tale, which I impart with insight.

It's hard to describe the horrors of that night,

but I shall endeavour to be accurate and true,

though the mists of time often cause threads to undo.

I had a fright, a scare that took my breath,

upon the moors I had a brush with death.

The fog was swirling,

the wind bitter, biting and whirling.

 

It was a night like any other,

we were travelling under cover

of a blanket of stars.

Before too long

a dark mist enshrouded the car.

 

The journey long and hard,

we were parched.

So, we stopped for some liquid reward.

A few beverages to lift the spirits,

the mist had drained our wits.

It took a toll on your mind

being blind on a road full of bends.

So, we stopped before we hit a dead end.

 

Started with a few beers,

my eyes bleary

the seat had me in its grips.

The cold glass in my mitts, I sipped.

Fire roaring a vengeful flame.

Angry sparks ignite

then simmer down again.

Shimmering in the chimney flume,

I was unaware of how close

I sat to my doom.

 

I just wanted to rest,

close my eyes for a short span

but alas the pub had other plans.

The spirits had us cornered,

they saw us coming

and put on a show.

Ghostly echoes below timber roof,

in truth a few drinks had been sunk

and my vision wasn't quite on point.

But the spectral image in front of me

was floating about a foot off the ground,

the others just blurred around.

I wanted to scream in fright,

but something had stolen the sound,

gripping my larynx tight.

 

I ran for the door, and the next thing I saw

wide open moors,

Well, I would have seen them, if it wasn't so foggy

and if my eyes weren't so groggy.

But alone I stood all cold and scared,

when a man approached.

All dressed in black, into my space he encroached.

He spoke, in hushed tones,

in a single word, he scared me to my bones.

'Leave'

Well, I wasn't about to stay,

I'd say I ran,

but it was more that I scrabbled away.

 

Nowhere to turn,

the fires burned at the pub in the distance

but the ghosts had made it clear

I wasn't welcome to share a coexistence.

I couldn't stay here, the man in black was gaining ground

and if his fingers touched me now

I'd be frozen in time.

So, I just kept running,

until the sun arose,

miles away, in wet, cold clothes.

I jumped on the next bus out.

Never looked back.

 

Of my companion on that journey,

there was never a word,

just vanished from the face of the earth.

It was like no-one even knew they existed.

But I knew,

that sadly the ghosts of that place

had gotten their taste,

and of my friend,

there would be no trace.

 

 

Thanks For Reading,

Peace, Love and Poetry

Kyle

The Hum

 

Do you hear the hum at night?

When silence should be all around,

when the only light

Is the moon tracing the ground.

At first you can barely hear it,

just a distant sound, It doesn't make sense.

But once you notice it,

it knows you are listening

and the noise becomes more intense.

 

Do you hear the hum?

Try not to deny it.

When all else is quiet,

Do you hear the hum?

When alone in your room,

when the darkness is your companion

and your heart fills with doom.

 

Do you hear the hum?

The glum grind inside your ears,

the dull sound that imparts fear.

It sounds like interference

but it isn't, it could be motorways 

somewhere off in the distance,

or a railway with repairs being made.

But it is not, it’s not, it’s not

 

It's the beings climbing from the grave,

it's fingers clawing at coffin lids

through the soil they dig.

It's something lurking in the dark,

a terrifying creature ready to stop your heart.

It's the man in black,

his cloaked figure creeping.

It's the reaper,

out for his nightly reaping.

 

Do you hear the hum?

It's outside the window,

a crescendo.

Is it just animals on the prowl?

Or the squark of an owl.

Is it the rustle of the wind against the window frame?

Then why is it calling your name?

 

 

Thanks for reading,

Peace, Love and Poetry

Kyle