Living with Ghosts

author’s note:

A long time ago, I learned to make pain my friend.
              -- Kid USA, pro wrestler


LIVING WITH GHOSTS

I’ve learned:
I can’t get rid of a ghost by shouting
Leave me alone!
No—
curses and pleading
will not dislodge a ghost.

Nor can I outrun them.
For years, I sped like a bullet train
but when finally forced to stop
my ghosts shot out of the shadows.

Sometimes a ghost may seem
to disappear completely.
But then something I hear or see
will raise that wraith from the grave.

I’ve wrestled with my specters for years
and lost a million times or more.
So now I’m trying a new strategy:

whenever a ghost resurrects
and an old wound wounds me once more
I’ll try to remain calm
and say quite casually:
Well, hello my old companion—
stay if you want—leave when you wish.
No, I’m not finally at peace with you
but I waste so much energy
when I try to fight or flee.

However
I won’t sit
when your sadness
tries to leaden my heart—
No!
I’ll leap and skip in a golden dance.
Though I can’t deny you, I can defy you.

But maybe I should thank you.
Didn’t I learn through you?—
Didn’t I grow?
Yes, and now I’ll learn even more
by staring deep into your eyes
with all their shades of blue.

But though I say in my head:
You should embrace that ghost
my words I haven’t yet convinced my heart.
So until I grow some more
the best I can do is accept you
and dance dance dance—
dance ‘til the night becomes dawn.

mythsteps · living with ghosts

What I Learned While Alone: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2025, Michael R. Patton

Ghosts in the Trees

author’s note:

I want to go to Thailand…

...if only for the ghosts.


GHOSTS IN THE TREES

I’ve read:
in Thailand
ghosts live up in the trees--

a better place, I believe
than the shadowy basements
where we try to stuff our ghosts.

Ghosts actually want
to sunbathe and talk!--
when ignored they emerge
to wreck havoc
in our lives, in our world.

I speak from experience:

in fear, I tried to hide my ghosts
from myself.
But my wraiths retaliated.
Working unseen
they kept trying to wreck me.
Finally I became more afraid
of what they might do
if I didn’t let them live
in the branches and sun.

Now, as I walk in dappled shadows
around the tree
I listen and learn from ghost stories.
I still fear the powerful grief
but bolster my strength by repeating
what Coach always told the team:
no pain, no gain.

Over time, many of my shades have faded
in sunlight
but I know they’ll never disappear completely:
my history will always be my history
just as our history
will always be with us
even when stuffed in the basement.

If we don’t let those ghosts live
up in the trees
we’ll still feel their pain
while losing the opportunity
for a higher education.

myth steps blog
dream steps blog
you tube channel
© 2022, Michael R. Patton

Grand Life

author’s note:

Some say we never learn the lessons of history.

Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve learned much from mine.


GRAND LIFE

Maybe the key ingredient in alchemy
is time.  Consider:

though this moment seems rather leaden
it may shine like gold years in retrospect.

On the other hand
time can also diminish.
Consider:

an event that once pumped me up
may appear quite empty
when I look back.

But is the revised view always true?

Maybe I shouldn’t ponder the past
and instead, relax
and enjoy every fresh moment
as the masters instruct.

But I do see each moment as precious--
that’s why
I want to know I haven’t wasted
so many of those moments gifted to me.
What is the truth--the value
of what I’ve done with my time?

Well, this much I can say for certain:
when I stop trying to judge
and allow myself to feel--to feel it all--
all of it all at once:
the past, the present--
even the future

what floods me then
becomes much too much
for me to express.

With that in mind, I’ve surmised:
we must be living something grand.

floor show journey: slow tv
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

Honoring the Ashes

author’s note:

Are we in the ashes now?

Yes.

Will we rise?

Of course.


HONORING THE ASHES

I identify with
that solitary tribe in the desert--

the book says:
when done with life in one place
they arise in the fresh morning chill
and burn their village
and burn their clothes.

Then, having cleansed
they follow the wind
to their next destination.

But the story didn’t tell
how they know when they’re done.

Well, in my experience
the “knowing when”
begins as a feeling that then
becomes a thought.  My best decisions
are the feelings I can not ignore.

But unlike the tribe
I carry my ashes with me

and often stop to dump the urn
and shift through the gray dust
that’s dead yet still lives--

maybe I contemplate
the shard of a busted jar
or a ring twisted
into a figure “8”.

Some say:
“don’t waste the present
  looking back on the past”.

But I feel the need to find meaning

especially when
the present moment seems
so trivial and low.

At such times, I sometimes
remember to remember
all the people, places, and things
I’ve known
and thank the whole menagerie
for helping me
as I struggle to learn
about this life and myself.

In that way
I elevate the moment
and see my past
as a glorious panorama.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
Butterfly Soul: poems of death, grief, joy

A Beer / A Bee

author's note:

Instead of teaching our children about "the birds and the bees"...

...we should teach them about their bears and their bees.


A BEAR / A BEE

When I saw the news photo
of that man laid out on the ground
after an encounter with a bear...

once again, I felt
that invisible paw press
down hard on my chest--

once again, those memories
swarmed my mind--
the bittersweet times
of my history of love.

However
I've learned through honesty:
I'm the one who claws my heart
and stings my head--
not anyone from the past.

But I just can't stop myself
from stirring the swarm
from poking the wound--

driven by a deep desire for resolution.

But though I analyze
and attack from various angles
I'm repeatedly defeated
in this fight for peace--
so frustrated now, so fatigued.

Solitude can only be temporary solace
when the real war is with yourself
so I might as well surrender my hermitage
and offer myself up--
wounded, troubled, flawed, unresolved
though I be--

once again, I'll be
a honey bear among honey bears--
a honey bee among honey bees!

I will slowly push against
the rusty hinges
until the gate of this cage
breaks.

I must create
new memories for myself--
sweet, bitter, bittersweet--whatever
will add some flavor
to this stale history.

© 2019, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook

In a Flash

author's note:

Maybe I'm under the influence of the wonderful anthology From the Country of Eight Islands, edited/translated by Hiroaki Sato and Burton Watson.

I hope I am.


IN A FLASH

A child's footprint in the sand

washed away in the flash of a wave...


© 2014, Michael R. Patton
MythSteps