Ghosts of thoughts

I awoke worried

By a fiend of my brain

Figment of imagination

It cast no shadow as I turned on the light

Nor ever will

These things which make us fret

Toss and turn

Tumbling heartbeats in our sleep

Are not real

To reach out a hand is to smite a ghost

The only head that dents the pillow is mine

And I am reminded

The power of the mind

Good or evil

It gives breath to mere shadows

But I can take it back

Snuff out an inkling like a candle by the window


In sudden draft of common sense

If it casts no shadow

It is not real

I say it again just to ensure it is dead

These things come and go

As all things do

I conjure up a peaceful muse

And slowly

The thoughts roll over and return to slumber

As do I

Let anxious thoughts die

God knows, they deserve to

*I don’t know if I have previously published this poem or not – the trouble with scribbling things in notes and then not also noting – on the note – that I have published it – which I will do now. M

y apologies if it has been previously published, you would think I would recall but I usually forget my poems as soon as they are written. That’s why I write them after all, to get them out of my head. Obviously I do a jolly good job of it.

When I had to recite one of my poems for a slam poetry competition – it took me ages to learn it. Why? I wrote it, you would think something which sprang from my own mind would be recalled easily enough. Not so.

Enter into evidence exhibit A the shopping list – without one I’m lost.


I’m particularly short of time and clarity at present. Not in the headspace to write, as life has seeped into all the corners of mind and left me without my usual comfy spot to retire to and scribble.

Travelling today, probably on the road by the time you read this. Off to the nearest city for an appointment with a specialist to check my skin. Routine only, once a year and I haven’t seen anything of concern. Mind you without my glasses on I can’t see much so, perhaps it’s a good idea.

My main concern will be disrobing in a cold room and having photos taken, front, side, back. “Hold arms up, turn leg out, yep now other one” and on and on it goes. It’s so they can be compared to last years set of photos – to note any changes. Bloody hell, last year I had a lovely nurse and hammed it up posing and laughing as she snapped away – that’s the thing with humour, you can pull it on like a cape of invisibility, mine covered me (and her) for an awkward few moments. Not in the mood this year. So there’s the first change that will be noted – lack of humour pffffffft.

Plenty of drama this week. A scammer that is being fixed through Telstra. An official letter to be handed to a dodgy tenant – tomorrow morning on my way no less.

Nothing like a bit of confrontation straight up after your morning coffee.

And there’s other things. But I don’t want to bore you when you’ve managed to read all the way through this paltry post to here.

Some weeks are terribly yuck. But they are made more so when I’ve lost my humour. At least I will get to see my sister and niece. So there’s that.

And who knows maybe I’ll pick up some humour along the way. I might listen to a funny podcast. Are there any to be had? I haven’t heard of any. Shall Google and let you know.

Have a great day, don’t mind me. The southerly blew in a chilly bit of gloom I believe, but winds change and sunshine gets stronger, everything passes.

19 thoughts on “Ghosts of thoughts

  1. I really like this one; it’s an experience I can relate to; you describe the process well, in concrete terms: ‘the only head that dents the pillow is mine’

  2. Enjoyed the poem, thank you. Wishing you luck with the medical appointment. Our sun is far too harsh downunder and cancer spots are too common here in New Zealand as well as Australia.

    • Hahah spot on Jeff. However, I went to a wedding in Byron earlier this year and got a professional manicure – I took this photo to shock my sister with blue nails – it just seems appropriate photo for a post re travelling

  3. I like your poem about your imagination, especially the lines, ‘To reach out a hand is to smite a ghost. The only head that dents the pillow is mine.

    I do hope you get on okay at the hospital and that they don’t find anything sinister. By the time you read this comment, I expect you will have returned, so I hope it’s with good news and that your sense of humour has returned, too.

    I admire you for being able to make notes every day and for the fact that, when you write, you can get stuff out of your head. I rarely make notes, and when I write, particularly poetry, it stays with me for a long time, and I am seldom able to let it go completely. Having said that, it does help to write my feelings out, as I said to you after my last very solemn post.

    By the way, I love your blue nails. Beautiful. Keep well, Kate … Ellie xx 🦢😘

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