Ghosts of Duality

Read this at a poetry reading last year and people loved it. As the poetry published last week seems to be the most popular type of post here at the moment figured you guys might dig it too. 

Please feel free to tell me what you think! 


ghost ppl busy street

Ghosts of Duality.

Do they haunt me or is this the exorcism for the ages?

I have regretfully resigned myself to the task that all is not sustenance…some things are poison, but to watch the dual moons rise out of the dusk of rebirth still causes the waters of the body to mingle and mystify, yet old looks only cause one to look old.

Adrift on uncharted seas I sail into the storms constantly, the one thing that has not changed. The strength to do what others dare not because I feel they are the right stars to follow till a new dawn arises from the East.

Sirens call from the shores where I know there are only jagged stones determined to wreck my ship, but yet they are so inviting in the comfort of familiarity, calling out, laughing at the voices of the dead men whose ships broke up and sank to depths uncharted by the living…only the dead live in the black waters.

ship at sea

And what of the contents of the hold? Are there treasures unpolished and dull, only waiting for the righteous cloth torn from the skin of the father, a child free to search for his own new land, or a fool riding momentum into places unknown?

The skeletons in the locker must walk, they must speak, they must point the way because only by studying the bones of the past can we hope to reach the time of new flesh, born not of fear but of determination driven by an intelligence and soul far beyond many.

In secret, far from the ears of the static of this intertwined reality I hunt myself true. I say nothing of my pair of books, growing dusty and older each passing second, yet somehow as alive as my life creator and her docking, no need to see words when it seems to be embedded in the stone of your heart.
ship seen fr land
Yet each rotation I steer into the storm over and over again, for the only way to get out of the rain is to walk straight through.

Yet I am still only man…with a man’s soul…pity not the weary adventurer for only through exploration do we find the way to dismiss need and find the true path to the now.

Thomas Spychalski

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