These Dying Tongues

These words are the shapeless ghosts
of headless thoughts, shadows
within formless bodies
that offer no substance,
no bone for structure
Hollow, naked and wounded raw
with no flesh to bandage invisibility,
mold them into being,
no voice to scream them into existence
beyond the haunting echo
of a whispered cry
of these dying tongues......

9/29/09 Debbie Berk

Poetry

Premonition

Somewhere hidden
in the quiet
of this nervous calm
something sinister
waits
to wake......
the chaos
of a haunting
noise
that lingers for now
only the worried
whisper
of a maddening
hush
of ghosts......
that rise and hover
__Mysterious
in the heavy fog
of this shy light
moving slowly
through an eerie
stillness__
as a Warning
of the Darkness
that is to come......

11/04/09 Debbie Berk

Before Sleep The Dreamer Dreams

Passing like a swift breeze
we hang our dreams high
and bury our hopes deep
that we may someday reach,
dig our way to the stars
before we are one with the worm
and there is only bare earth
to hold the shadow of our bones,
only stone to remember the name
of our ghost......

9/05/09 Debbie Berk