Dear Ghosts: Haunt Me, Please

I remember the days when I was scared of ghosts

After watching a marathon of poltergeist movies

About hauntings in strange homes

My juvenile friends and I couldn't get to sleep

And we'd squeal at every creak creak

On the floor board

I'd sleep with a night light on

The one with Winnie the Pooh reading a story to Piglet

Yet I'd still lose sleep

I was so scared of the ghosts that were out to get me

Now I want the ghosts to get me

I don't even understand what I was scared of

I want ghosts to haunt my house

I want ghosts to transcend their world and show their white faces

Hell, I want poltergeists to mess my whole room up

Because, see, if ghosts don't exist

Then why should anything invisible exist, too?

What you see is what you know

But I don't see love, so how do I know it's there?

What if love is just a ghost?

What if "love" is what we label that chemical reaction in our brains that sparks fondness?

And if ghosts don't exist, do spirits exist? Souls?

If they don't, what's the point of it all?

Then life is just a soccer match with no goal posts

And your decisions are empty goals

And the soccer field is endless

And there really is no goal

If ghosts don't exist, then it's proof that this is it

It affirms the mundanity and terror

Of a worldly existence

All the people in the world

Are just a cycle of slaves to the earth

So you see, ghosts have to exist

For there to be love, spirits, for life to make sense

So please, ghosts of the other world, engage in paranormal activity

Write out threatening messages on my Ouija board

Pass through me 'til I'm chilly, so that I feel you

Do anything to make me believe in what isn't real

Comments

We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye

Lost in Rio

Jesus looks over The lost souls and bones below In the jungle sun To witness such beauty And such devastation God painted with one brushstroke Merry men sing Holes in their shoes The dark night lit up By police sirens And the crescent moon Bats flail around Like me, lost in the jungle Eyes glaring all around I hope they're monkeys Or jaguars I hope I can keep a piece of This country with me Safe in my pocket It smells like tropical rain And feels like The clam shells Washed up on the shore It tastes like fried bananas And heavily salted steak Sounds like seabirds cawing Samba on the streets And looks like a page From a storybook About parrots and palm trees Of finding a golden treasure A magnificent, uneasy place When she sun goes down So do we Leaving the night To the creepy crawlers And innocent stray cats

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you

Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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