On the horizon blinks the supernatural.

Of thoughts that were

housed in my omnibus;

some died naturally

from supernatural causes

while others travelled

the ghostly trail of memories lost

leaving no trace.

But the nightmares from work

remained in full force

like a wolf undaunted

howling through my corridors

of peace in deep sleep

accentuating the fact

I was no more but fodder

in my insignificance.

While all flights

of fantasy of wonderful tales

flew to the sunset

in a state of no more,

maybe I'd become

just a supernatural

story for boys.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Another rather sad and downcast write from the joker! Hope all is well dear poet? I relate strongly to the asssessment of work and our place in the pecking order having been made redundant for exposing wrong doing in the NHS and in a charity I worked for.

[andrew mitchell]

I’m okay John. Work is not my happy place and has eroded my self worth and confidence over the last years. I just don’t fit into a world that’s gone paperless while working with wild dogs but I have seven years to go and I need those seven years of salaries. Thanks for reading John. I probably chose the wrong profession in hindsight and so it’s relatively easy to write a sad piece with just a snippet of truth.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I can't recall what you do. Wild dogs? Sounds dangerous!

[andrew mitchell]

I work in Medical Pathology in the histopathology sector. Its just glamorised factory work and wild dogs refer to people who just whinge all the time at work, wanting to put the blame on someone, so draining I tell you.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Is that like CSI stuff then?

[andrew mitchell]

That’s more forensic, we distinguish between benign tumours where you are safe and malignant tumours that kill you within months.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

So I guess you get a slice of the action Andrew?

[emmajoy]

' While all flights - of fantasy of wonderful tales - flew to the sunset - in a state of no more, - maybe I'd become - just a supernatural - story for boys. '

Tis a strangeness when we look to one train of thought then, somehow, stand waiting for another.
Perhaps. Inside that single seed there's Possibility, to soar or to float. That is how your words make me think. Your imagination has two beginnings, perhaps more, who knows... and you can be both captain and crew. Must stop that imaging and try to focus on what YOU have written but.. see, you've begun what your readers might what to travel with you. Maybe you're well aware of that possibility? That last well laid stanza infers as much.. at least to me!

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you for your words Emma always a pleasure. I suppose this write is about deep thoughts on the underbelly of work and thoughts on how to escape so this piece is of one that meanders, never to rest on that flower to see the beauty but to move on, my thoughts just running away.

[emmajoy]

Meandering reaches some point at some time, even if it wasn't the original destination!

[Lyn Anderson]

Interesting musings here -- the ending brings me to a different conclusion.

[andrew mitchell]

Thanks Lyn , work is my prison , any free time is my escape sums up this piece.

[Ken Simm.]

Excellent gothic wisdom here Andrew. I ageee with Jacob you are channelling old Edgar Allen.

[andrew mitchell]

Glad you liked it Ken. Always appreciate your visits. Will return the favour soon.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a younger version of Poe portrayed here.
but he was not insignificant, and neither are you my poetic friend...your philosophies are in your words of keen insight.
j.

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you for your kind words Jacob I think I'm more of a fossicker lol.