Smoke screen mirror, a powerful array of that Old House, forming a wall of opposition that could make it exceedingly difficult for him. It revealed a measure of contempt and distrust toward their own son.
Years wore themselves away, communications between them became more and more rare, or perhaps it was because of the need to cleanse The Bear. It shambled about in the shadows, forever hungry for tribute. It ruled within the walls of that Old House, as surely as the crows commanded the trees and the wires that stood around the perimeter of the yards.
Madness began a slow steady drip down into the foundations. Hymns of Intention did nothing to cancel their knowledge of the coming despair, a hail of lost chances.
Lana tried to build a personal ice wall to prevent her from feeling the sting of inevitability. Martin played at an emotional raffle, knowing he had as much chance at escaping those walls as going up against the judgment of The Highwaymen.
Ash on the forehead-
the history of the tomb,
Who dances here now ?
The rooms were also seeking the light; only a crimson aneurysm came through the windows, like a falling star that devours the sunrise. The smoke kissed mirrors and the windowpanes exchanged cutting looks, fracture’s smiles flying over the waves.
House sales were down. The children dreamt of Disneyland and other sanitized nightmare locales. It mattered not – often looking out the cracked glass of white tobacco – That Old House – their expectations could be seen riding by with The Highwaymen, pale jewels and withered crab-apples in the same satchels .
He should not be here –
One hand changed, his fall bled out,
he found his sea –
spiritual inflammation,
Sharp blue switch blade of regrets.
That Old House may be empty, but it will always be occupied with memories in the smoke screen mirror.
Implied Spaces 
Spooky
Thanks very much Derrick. Once I decided to incorporate an earlier composition of the abandoned farmhouse into the sequence of transformations, a ghost/memory narrative became the reasonable choice for an accompanying text. 🙂
Your imagery, the compelling visuals you offer, take ones attention in, and take it further into this marvelous gothic tale, a good read. Good job &
thank you. g.r.
Many thanks for taking time to comment and provide support. Before I established this blog, my creative writing and commentary on phantasmagoria was incorporated into my photography blog, Dark Pines Photo.
Here are a couple of posts that may be of interest.
riveting
Many thanks. Glad you enjoyed the post. See my comment above, for links to related posts. 🙂
My favourite part of this is the three line “Ash on the forehead” poem. And my favourite image is the top one. The form of both grab me.
That first image is the first in a larger sequence – the sequence of this post is just a small component of the whole set. Not yet totally satisfied with the rest of the more abstract pieces – still a work in progress. 😀
I am intrigued with the incorporation of poetry into prose pieces. Trying to extend it past the traditional use of prologue & epilogue or the inserted verse/excerpt .
Using free verse or haiku/tanka I try to suggest a break where the linear narrative and the inner emotional narrative diverge/erupt into parallel or overlapping streams. 🙂
That is very complex and must be challenging to construct. Was it a tanka, that grabbed me? I am pretty sure it wasn’t a haiku. Not sure.
Glad you are showing works in progress. It gives your audience an insight into your thought processes. If it were my work, it might also help to suggest directions to move towards.
The 3 line stanza is a haiku and the 5 line is a tanka ( a haiku with 2 additional lines ). Composition process for the writing requires shifting modes of expression. Sometimes it comes naturally, at other times it is a more purposeful intent. I have to step back from the text and images and look at them with fresh eyes, as if I were responding to someone else’s creation.
The haiku is so compressed; I would compare it to a photograph/snapshot when explaining it to my grade ten students. The haiku is an emotionally packed image with hidden depth & layers – consider how your photobooth shots contain so much hidden history of person, contexts that are both personal and social-historical. As you mentioned in your blog, a frozen moment in time.
The tanka is equally compressed, but feels like Flash Fiction in a condensed poetic form – an impression/suggestion of a setting, character, and an emotional climatic moment.
This approach to the poetic forms are my take, some will see them as too outside the box of the traditional tone and intention. This either makes my writing wrong, the critics wrong, or I have inadvertently created a new modes of haiku, tanka and haibun ( combining haiku with prose) . 😀
Wow. Captivating piece of writing. I loved it. It was inspirational. It made me want to just grab a keyboard and write for a good couple of hours. Just for the joy of it. Sen-frikkin-sational!!
Glad you enjoyed. 🙂