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Tag Archives: ghosts

Attic To The Past

28 Wednesday Sep 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

attic, birthday, family, ghosts, heaven, memories, the past

Today is a very special day for me.

It is my 78th birthday.

I jump out of bed as fast as i can.

But it isn’t that easy at my age.

Than i sit at the kitchen and drink a

hot cup of tea.

 

As i sit there my mind starts to look back

All i have now is half remembered memories.

 

 

Well i cant sit here all day.

Maybe someone will pay me a visit?

I will have to make sure that the house is nice and clean

Surely my son and daughter will bring the grandchildren

around.

I haven’t seen them in quite a long time.

The only person who visits is the nice lady from meals on wheels.

I wonder if she knows how lonliness feels?

 

I go from room to room tidying as i go.

Than i comb my hair and brush my teeth.

And use some aftershave.

Now all i can do is wait.

Hang on was that a knock on the front door?

I rush to open it up but there is nobody there

Just a lot of undisturbed air.

 

I sit on my lounge and turn on the TV

I need to calm down.

There will be a phone call any minute.

Than i hear a noise coming from upstairs.

It sounded like foot steps up in the attic.

As i make my way towards that upper room

My heart is beating fast boom boom boom.

 

When i enter the attic all i see is dust motes and cob webs

I haven’t been up here in more than twenty years.

Nobody is up here except maybe some ghosts.

Even though the attic is full of memories.

I am starting to have second thoughts.

Because as you know not all memories are good.

Than i notice a favourite piece of wood.

 

In the corner near an old possum nest is my old cricket

bat.

I pick it up and start to play some shots.

Than my arthritis tells me that i am not twenty one anymore.

I sit down on an old wooden chest and think back.

And my face does something it hasn’t done for a while.

It transforms itself and turns into a smile.

 

Near my feet lies an old rubber ball.

That belonged to a neighbours dog that adopted me as it’s owner.

It was old and cranky with a grey muzzle.

But to me Cass was always kind and gentle.

A black doberman Cass was the best dog in the world.

We used to run around and play in the park.

And as i listen now i can still hear him bark.

 

I hang my head as i think back.

Than i feel a change in the air.

I look up to see the dust motes dancing and forming shapes.

I see my late wife Cindy in her wedding dress

She was always glowing as pretty as a picture.

I start to weep god i really miss her.

 

About a decade ago Cindy found a lump in her breast.

She fought the best that she could.

But cancer is a really hard disease to beat.

The radiation and chemo took a heavy toll on her body.

And just three months after the diagnosis

My darling Cindy was gone.

Taken by that god awful disease.

With a heavy heart i fall to my knees.

 

The dust motes are still dancing and mingling with the moon

beams.

And my deceased brother and sister appear.

Greg is riding his motorbike.

While Sue is cuddling her kids.

They are both doing what they liked to do the most.

Greg rode his motorbike into heaven.

And 28 years later Sue joined him in the big sky.

Both of them were taken way too soon.

The dust motes still dance and swoon.

 

As i look at those dust motes.

My brother and sister sort of fade away.

I want to run into those motes and make them re arrange

How dare those motes take my brother and sister away again.

But i know that one day i will once again see my brother sister

and wife.

Because after death there is life.

 

The dust has finally settled.

But my memories are still strong.

The attic to the past has stirred up a lot of thoughts.

Memories of long lost souls.

Names and faces that i will never forget as long as i live.

Why do people have to die?

I head back downstairs before i start to cry.

 

I turn on the kettle and have another cup of tea.

Before my offspring and grand children arrive.

Hopefully they will bring beer and some chocolate cake.

I go and make myself a sandwich.

But as i eat my brain has too much time to think.

I wash my thoughts and dishes down the sink.

 

Three o’clock and my phone still hasn’t rung.

Maybe my family is stuck in heavy traffic?

Or they are still shopping for my present?

But deep down in my heart i know that they have forgotten

My family will not visit for my birthday.

I will just have to celebrate alone.

There isn’t any birthday cake or candles to blow out.

Nor any presents to unwrap.

So i just lie down and have a little nap.

 

But i cant sleep.

All i can think about is that attic to the past.

I was happy sitting there amongst the dust motes.

So i go back upstairs to that special room

I sit on that wooden chest but nothing happens

The dust motes and the magic has gone.

The attic is now nothing more than a room full of mould.

I just slink downstairs to my lonely little household.

 

I sit in my chair watching the sun go down.

Waiting for my TV dinner to cook in the oven.

Than i will have an early night.

Or maybe have a few beers to drown my sorrows

Than headlights appears in the driveway.

My loving family is finally here.

I am really had any doubts.

From feeling way down in the dumps.

I am now way up in the clouds.

And they say that every cloud has a sliver lining.

And even though it is dark.

The sun is surely shining.

 

Hugs and kisses are exchanged.

And i confess that i didn’t think that they were coming.

That i was just about to go to bed.

My daughter pipes up ‘But dad i told you that we are taking

you out for chinese’

‘So go grab your jacket we have a birthday to celebrate’

‘I have booked a table and we dont want to be late’

 

The grand Kids are jumping up and down raring to go.

I grab my keys and jacket and head out the door.

Surrounded by my loving family.

But i cant resist one last look up to that attic to the past.

I know that my memories will last and last.

 

Memories remind you of your yesterdays.

But you cant live in the past.

You have to live in the here and now.

So i close my front door.

And we all head on our way

To celebrate my 78th birthday.

 

Passengers and Ghosts

08 Friday Apr 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death, ghosts, plane crash

I have finally worked up the courage to take to the Sky.

I am Booked on a Flight to New York City.

I have waited along time to make this Trip.

But I am as nervous as a Kitten.

Come on Steven get a grip.

 

The Day has finally arrived.

And I get dropped of at Sydney International Airport.

For My Holiday of a Lifetime.

 

I Book in Two Hours before My Flight is due to leave.

So I have a Coffee and Read a Book to fill in the Time.

 

Finally My Flight is called and I head to Gate No5 for Boarding.

Hopefully My Flight will leave on Time without any delays.

Oh Yes happy Days.

 

There are People heading in all Directions.

Passengers taking their Christmas Holidays.

I hurry so I wont be late.

And after what seems like forever

I finally reach the Boarding Gate.

 

After Boarding

I make My way to First Class.

I thought if I am going to be on a Plane for Twenty something

Hours.

I might as well have some Creature comforts.

 

Maybe I can get some Sleep.

And when I wake up I will be in New York City.

But then the Guy in the seat next to mine.

Turns My Flight from good to very shitty.

 

Just My luck.

The guy in the next Seat is talking about One Hundred

Words a Minute.

He is going Home to New York after a Month long Holiday.

God are there any Words in the English Language

That this Guy doesn’t know how to say?

 

After Five Hours He is still yapping

I think I will have a Drink to Drown My sorrows

Or maybe a handful of Sleeping Pills

Cause if the Flight Attendant doesn’t help Me.

God I know I will Kill.

 

I know that He is nervous about Flying.

So He talks and talks to take His Mind off it.

We are over Twenty Thousand Feet above the Ground.

I would give anything for some Silence.

Never to Hear another Sound.

 

But silence I do not get.

The Guy is still Talking

I look over to tell Him to shut the fuck up

And I am dumbstruck

The Air goes very still.

And it is like Time is moving in slow motion.

 

Because right before My Eyes.

The Guy has become Transparent.

He now looks like Casper the friendly Ghost.

 

The Ghost Guy is still talking.

But now He is talking in the past tense.

My Name was Barry Andrews

And I was an American Citizen.

I used to be a used Car Salesman

And I Died way to early.

 

Well that got My attention.

And I asked Him how did He Die?

He told Me that He Died in a Plane Crash.

I was shaking so much I could barely Speak

I asked the Date of His Death.

And even though I already knew the Answer.

He told Me anyway.

‘I Died on Qantas Flight Qan156 Three Hours out of New

York City.’

‘On the 1st of May 2016’

 

Shit just what I thought.

That is Todays Date.

And I am on Flight Qan156.

 

I need to get to the Cockpit to tell the Captain to turn the

Plane around.

I am sitting next to a Ghost.

Twenty Thousand Feet above the Ground.

 

Barry Andrews the Transparent Person

Is still talking.

But I really need to block Him out.

Where are all of the Flight Attendants?

When I get out of My Seat I see that I am surrounded

by Ghosts.

The Plane is full of Transparent People.

 

Flight Attendants are like Cops.

There are never any around when You need One

I race down the Aisle looking for some help.

But all I can se are Alive Dead People

If that makes any sense.

They are all seating in their Seats watching a Movie

or just having a Chat.

But these People have already Died.

They all look fit and healthy

They don’t even look tired.

 

I make My to Economy Class

And sitting in one of the Seats is a little Girl about

Eight Years Old.

She looks scared and frightened

 

But She has a Pink healthy glow

So I know that She is Alive and kicking

But I have to keep moving

Because the Clock is ticking.

 

But I cant leave Her.

So I introduce Myself and take Her Hand.

She seems to know that I am Her only chance of Survival.

 

Then an announcement comes over the Speakers

‘Thank You for Flying Qantas we will be landing in New York

in a little over Three Hours from now’

‘Please enjoy an in Flight Movie and before You know it We

will be LandingĀ  at John F Kennedy Airport’

 

Jesus the Three Hours are almost up

There isn’t any Time to think of a Plan

So I grab the little Girls Hand

We take our Seats

And just wait for the inevitable.

 

The little Girl and I are the only Survivors of Flight Qan156

She never told Me Her Name

All up Three Hundred and Ten Passengers and Crew Perished

But they will Live forever in the Hearts of the People they

Cherished.

 

I will never again take to the Sky.

I will keep My Feet firmly on the Ground.

But maybe I can take to the Water?

So I decide to take a Ferry Ride.

 

But when I arrive at the Ferry Terminal

I can see that is full of Transparent People.

Another Accident is about to happen

But there is nothing that I can do

Because they have already passed to the Other Side.

 

Wherever I go I am surrounded by Transparent People

Ghosts living their final Day.

 

If You ever see a Transparent Person

Give them some Dignity and Respect

Because after all One Day We will all Die.

And it just might be Your turn next.

 

 

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