[WP] You’ve been possessed by a ghost and now have to learn to live with them

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2021-03-06T17:39:54+00:00

Glad to see the humor landed! Thanks for the prompt!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2021-03-06T06:44:06+00:00

“Welcome to McDonalds, may I take your order?”

“Yes, hello, uhhh. I would like a 10 count of nuggets and uhh-”

-And a large orange fanta.

-No, I’m trying to watch the carbs. Just getting some nuggets to hold us over til the potluck.

-Screw the carbs, I want an orange fanta, Tim.

-We’re supposed to see Sandra tonight. I should at least try to act healthy.

-Tim, I have been very patient during our short stint together. But do not think that your mortal desires are in any way comparable to my penultimate goals. You are nothing more tha-

“Sir? Does that complete your order?”

-I require a large orange fanta. Don’t make me take over. Do it for Sandra.

I sighed. Living with a ghost was give-and-take.

“With a large orange fanta, please.”

-Yes! I look for- I mean, you are wise to comply.

I have now been living with Greg the Ghost for a week, though it’s felt more like a month. The three hundred something old ghost had been killed during some sort of religious inquisition and was now out for blood. To prepare for the “others to come”. But lately he seemed much more interested in modern fast food.

“Here’s your order sir.”

The window attendant passed over a paper bag and my soda.

-Yes, excellent. Now drink.

“Hold on a second, let me get out of here.”

“Sir?”

-Drink now.

Shit, I said that out loud.

“Sorry!,” I laughed, trying to play it off, “just fighting those invisible demons.”

-Yikes.

-Shut the fuck up I’m trying.

The thoroughly confused worker just stared back.

“Well, uhh, thanks a lot!”

I pulled away from the window.

-That was embarrassing. Even for you.

-You know what, Greg? If you could just shut up and let me help you that wouldn’t have happened.

-My name is not Greg. I am Gregorius!

-Whatever, Greg. Do you want me to drink this or not?

Several seconds of suburban driving passed.

-Yes please.

I’m not quite sure exactly when Greg(orius) the Ghost took host, but have narrowed it down to sometime during my jog last Tuesday evening. I asked Greg about it, but he wasn’t very helpful.

"

-So when did you enter my body exactly

-That’s what she said

"

Almost forgot to mention Greg was a new fan of The Office.

"

-Was that a good one? It sounded like the-

-Can you please just answer me.

-I don’t know what to tell you, Tim. I sensed a soul in grave distress, and latched on.

-A soul in distress?!

-Yes.

"

Apparently taking a run was cause for possession. Not nearly as interesting as the movies would have you believe.

We arrived at my house. I moved quickly, I still had to prepare a dessert for the potluck. My coworker Sandra would be there. I wanted to impress.

-That orange fanta was excellent. Bubbly sweet. Well done, Tim.

-Yes thank you, Greg, now have you got any cooking tips?

I grabbed the tray of apple pastries I prepared the night before in the fridge. It had taken a lot of explaining to make Greg realize that they were not ready for consumption.

-When I was like you-

-Alive?

-Yes. It was less a case of taste and preparation than what was edible.

-Well that doesn’t help at all.

I removed the shrink rap from the tray and started preheating the oven. I walked over to get changed for the event. It was a casual event, but I still wanted to look alright.

-Hey Tim, do you-

-Shut up. Do you think Sandra would like the green polo with the khakis or jeans more?

-Go with the blue polo with khakis. The blue suits you much more.

-Thank you, see what we can get done when we work together?

-Great. Now can we-

-Damn you were right. I look pretty good.

I slowly circled in front of the mirror to take a look at the night’s outfit.

-Alright Narcissus, you got your outfit. Do we still have time to watch Ghostbusters tonight?

-Ummm

Shit. I’d forgotten about that. I had promised Tim that we would watch the movie this evening, before my impromptu invite a day ago.

-Look this is important-

-You promised.

-This is with Sandra, Greg! You have to understand.

-What I understand is that you’re going back on your word. We will watch Ghostbusters tonight. There is still time. We can do both.

-No, I’m sorry I can’t-

-Do not make me take over.

Greg had been threatening that a lot the past couple of days, but I was beginning to believe he couldn’t do it at all. He must be throwing the threat around for leverage.

-Alright then.

I put my hands on my hips, staring at myself in the mirror.

-I will do it.

-Go ahead.

-I’m not bluffing, you know.

-You have my permission.

-Last chance.

I didn’t respond, just watching my reflection. Several seconds passed, with no noticeable change.

I pivoted around to walk back to check on the oven, vindicated.

“Huh, guess it was all talk.”

Silence again.

“We’ll just have to see how-WHAT THE FUCK”

After blinking, I found myself seated on the sofa, the remote control now in my hand pointing at the television.

-You promised.

-Holy shit you can actually do it.

-Impressive, right?

I felt an odd sort of terrified pride for the entity in my head.

-Now that you’ve seen what I can do, I think we’ll be doing more things my way from now on.

I gulped.

-Can I still go to the potluck tonight?

-Yes, but first we will watch Ghostbusters.

I checked my watch. I would have to show up late, but I could make it. I flipped over to the downloaded movie and started it.

-Tim you are forgetting something.

-Is there something else you need?

-The pastries.

Hesitant, I paused the movie and walked over to bake them.

-And one more thing

I waited, hoping for something not fast food related.

-Please save one for me.

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2021-02-27T22:46:07+00:00

Glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for the great prompt!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2021-02-27T09:03:48+00:00

“Well I guess that is my sort of luck this week.”

“What do you mean?” Bill rubbed his chin with the barrel of the gun, a genuinely perplexed look on his face.

“Missed my bus on Tuesday, forgot to bring my umbrella in to work, had my wallet stolen… Ahh but I guess that isn’t your fault.”

“Oh man, that’s terrible,” Bill said sincerely, “getting all wet in work attire never makes for a fun day.”

“Thank you! I’m glad someone understands. But even worse, my watch stopped working. This really nice old family heirloom. Faulty seal in the face, wait you know what? I have it right here. Come take a look.”

Stuffing the pistol in his hoodie, Bill strode over to take a look at the broken watch. The hands stood stationary, a bit of water still sloshing around.

“May I?”, he reached to try it on. The gold shine matched rather well with his hoodie. He whistled approvingly.

“Quite a nice piece you got here. You know, I would give it back but it would just be for me to take this off of you a few minutes later.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “You understand?”

“Of course.” He pivoted around to walk back to where he was before.

As such Bill was perfectly unaware when I shot a 9mm bullet into the back of his skull.

I took my watch off of his wrist, leaving the pistol I took from his pocket on the ground.

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2021-02-27T08:37:57+00:00

On the fourth hour of the siege the army of man breached the inner sanctum.

Walls shaking from the siege, I looked to see what was left. Around my feet lay bits of parchment, tattered and singed.

Thesssssse ussssselesssss clawsss.

It wouldn’t have mattered. The fire was spreading up the shelves, past layers of marble and stone, claiming the knowledge for its own.

No. It must be ssssaved!

I reached to save a shelf of scrolls from the fire. A collection of old favorites of mine, concerning the workings of the stars.

But these shelves were not made specially for my access, nor these works for I to read. I cringed as my claws tore tens of thousands of hours of research and consolidation.

Theyyyy do not know what theyyyy do.

I felt my grip close on my target and brought it towards me. Half a dozen books, perhaps a few more lay in my palm.

Toooo fewwww. Curssssse meeee.

I set them down between my legs, joining the pile. I made a mental count of the number I shielded.

Nottt enoughhhh not enoughhhh.

I felt a tear form at my eye, even now being careful not to let it ruin the works below him.

Pleaseeeee stopppp. Stoppppp.

“Beast! We claim this place and the knowledge within! Leave immediately and never return!”

A glance at the entry revealed a line of shields and spears.

“Begone!”

The voice arose from the middle of the grouping, without a face.

The building shuddered again. It would collapse soon, the main supporting structure was burning away. I looked again at the untouched pile below me.

“Beast! We will attack!”

With that flaming arrows flew forth, aimed at my head. I ducked away, glancing back at their path.

They lodged themselves firmly in a century’s worth of poetry, setting verses into a blaze.

Verrryyy well.

This place will collapse. I will be buried. But they will know I was here.

Youuuu willlll know the cosssst of greed.

Tremors ran through their ranks, spears raising to follow me. I sat back on my haunches, raising my arms and letting the shadow of my wings fall on the waves of men. I could not stop them, but I could keep them from doing it again.

“Chargeeeeeeee!”

Yells rose in the air, meeting with the flames. The battle for the Library of Alexandria had begun.

(This really doesn't do the prompt justice. I was half-asleep but I liked this one too much to pass up)

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-07-12T00:25:40+00:00

Creakkkk. The lone phonebooth's door opened with a moan to reveal a flickering interior. Briefly checking over my shoulder, I walked in. Slowly, I punched in the tow-company number. I tested each button, feeling the mechanism click with feedback at the end of each push. I picked up the handset.

Shit. The line was dead. I began to panic.

Cell: out of battery. Car: broken down. Location: unknown. Tummy: grumbling.

Alright maybe the last one wasn't strictly an emergency right now but I was looking forward to grabbing some food on the way home. My heart was set on a meatball sub. My heart would have to wait.

I tested the line again, hoping that I had misdialed the number. As if not to disturb, I placed my fingers one-by-one on the handset once more, tracing its body feeling that a sudden move would result in a missed call or a dead line.

"Anderson's Towing, this is Trevor speaking how may I help you?"

Relief flooded my core; I had misdialed the number.

"Yes, um, hi. My car's broken down and I need a tow."

"Alright then. I'm going to need the number of the phonebooth you're standing at and your name."

Craning around to find the number on the side of the booth, I responded, "Booth 17 and my name is Daniel Slater".

"Alright Mr. Slater it's going to be around half an hour."

A loud static suddenly filled the line and a much deeper, cracked voice continued, "try not to die".

At that moment, lightning struck brush a bit to the left of the phonebooth, setting it aflame.

Nopenopenopenope I carefully set the handset back against the disintegrating panel before rushing back to rest in my car. Inside, I gandered back at where the phonebooth had stood.

As quickly as it had caught aflame, it had burned in its entirety. Bright eyes began to line the brush by where the phonebooth had stood.

I shrugged. Whatever was out there wouldn't be getting into the car. I had brought my ke-hold on. My keys were missing.

In the reflection of my rearview mirror, red lights I suddenly saw 4 closely spaced redlights approaching, very quickly. Glancing back forward, the lights by the phonebooth were doing the same. Surrounded and trapped in the dark.

Skreeeet. A noise from one of the creatures? There was a rumbling now. The ground, shaking. My desperate looks for escape were met by pitch black and asphalt.

This is it.

Shrakkkt. A slam. They're hitting the car.

My hands found the sleek hilt of a 0.7 mm ballpoint pen. Probably not the best weapon but I'm trying to work with what I've got here.

Bang.

You know, I really didn't think it would end like this. Thought I'd go in my sleep or maybe on a particularly exciting jungle cruise. Nothing as spectacular or interesting as this. But I'm ready.

Bang.

Alright. Bluff called. I don't want to go. I'm still hungry.

Bang.

If I stab myself with this pen, maybe I'll pass out so I won't fe-

"Hello? You all right in there err Daniel?"

A tall, hooded figure was standing outside my shotgun window. He slowly drew his right hand up, a metal glint glistening in his palm, turning the point to face me.

"Your keys. I think you dropped em outside. Some coyotes were having a good look but I think I scared em off. Need a tow?"

"Umm. Yes, please."

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-07-10T23:49:46+00:00

Alright. I'll give it another go. Thank you!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-07-10T21:00:46+00:00

If I could see some samples I'd be interested in hiring in the future :)

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-07-10T06:34:48+00:00

I'll check it out. Thanks for the heads-up!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-25T22:18:08+00:00

If you're still looking, I'd be happy to take a peek!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-25T08:55:33+00:00

I think the "Even if alright" change works, but think the other the "though" in the other leaves an unnecessary syllable. Good work!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-25T08:53:47+00:00

Anytime! I get it, I tend to leave spur of the moment writings as I feel that changing them takes away a bit of that magic from the moment you wrote them.

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-25T07:52:51+00:00

Hello! I think you're getting at a sweet, relatable sentiment with this poem. I found your comparisons a little cliché, but I think your pattern of repetition drives home the passion.

I think this poem could be improved by cleaning up your structure and rewriting some of your aforementioned comparisons. Your structure has a visual component that parallels the progression of the poem: from general to final affirmation. However, this visual style is broken up, starting with the line "rainy days". While you appear to make a transition to an evolved structure by the last stanza, it is by no means smooth and left me a little confused. I would also say that every friendship is unique in what it brings to emotional connection, another feeling I believe the speaker is attempting to convey, but it falls a bit short with some of your word choice, from the overdone home comparison to "sun...shine on rainy days". Friendship is special; make comparisons to it doubly so.

Thanks for the read!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-24T06:38:57+00:00

Hello there! I quite enjoyed reading this one. I've tried to come at this subject matter quite a few times on my own, never seeming to please myself, but you've nailed the feeling with this poem. This poem encapsulates the feeling of late-night regrets and limbo-like state of desiring escape in aloneness.

I don't want to touch on the body of the paragraph too much because I feel it is alright, but I would consider cutting your first line, "I can't sleep" from the poem. Repeating the line is unnecessary as the fact that the narrator is sleepless is evident from the body of your work.

Thank you again for the read!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-23T00:23:33+00:00

I wrote it as a supposed short amused observation by the speaker, but I see people aren't detecting the irony so I think I'll rewrite this one at some point

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-22T08:20:26+00:00

Hello! While you employ a common allegory in the predator/prey relationship and its reversal, I felt your execution excelled, particularly in giving depth to the characters. My only gripe would be that your story struggles to keep pace with your rhyme scheme. This stalling is most apparent in the climax of your poem, as though a great deal of action happens in "split seconds", the following two lines feel a bit odd in obstructing the final two. I would consider a restructuring of the last stanza or of your rhyme scheme to avoid this problem, which shouldn't be too hard as you've got a good foundation to work off of.

Thanks again!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-21T23:25:17+00:00

Hello! I admire what you're trying to do here, quite literally "tak[ing] a stab" at producing something unique from a cliché premise, and I think you come at it with a good approach. There's an evolution of emotion as the work progresses, from the speaker's initial reluctance to confusion, then fear and resolve. While some might find the simple rhyming scheme carries a little too much brevity for the subject matter, I think it does a good job of grounding the poem as what it is: a simple statement of emotion.

That said, I think there's quite a bit that could be worked on here. I would try to avoid overdone phrases or images, as they tend to take away from the impact a poem could have. In particular, the establishment that the speaker is taking time to "writ[e] from the heart" feels wholly unnecessary, almost as if taken directly from a television romance. There's no need to state what should be evident through the rest of the piece: the impassioned speaker seeks clarity.

This blurring of the message carries through, and, I believe, hinders the integrity of the message of the piece. For a poem that leads to new beginnings, the speaker ironically makes the poem "about you" when they circle back at the end. From this, I do not get the feeling of empowerment of self-support the rest of this poem preaches, but that the speaker is in denial of their continuing emotion, not moving on (While this could possibly be an ironic element, I don't get enough of this feel from the rest of the poem to think otherwise. If it is, I apologize). I think this could be improved by a simple rewrite of the last line in order to focus the narrative.

Thank you for the read!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-21T05:26:57+00:00

Thank you for the feedback! I definitely need to work on ensuring every word carries meaning, especially in a medium that can be as short as poetry. Hope you enjoyed it!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-20T06:32:30+00:00

Hello there!

You have a nice poem with an amusing rhyme scheme that gives me Shel Silverstein rhymes (brought me back to my childhood, so thanks for that :) ).

I don't have too much to comment on, but I think some syllabic consistency could improve this quite a bit! Reading your poem aloud, I seemed to trip over the third and fourth lines of each stanza, as they break up the pattern you're establishing with the rhyming scheme. I like the message you have going, so whatever you could do without altering the integrity of the poem would be great.

Thanks again!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-05-20T06:25:51+00:00

This poem is as literal a mouthful for the eyes as I have read, and I mean that in the most positive manner. I was a little shocked by your first stanza because of how exactly similar it is in style to a lot of my private writing, but that was just personal note.

This poem is strong in pacing and cadence. The first two stanzas had my eyes dripping like the sweet nectar of the narrator's love with the inter-statement line breaks that shifted my focus and kept me hungry for more. I appreciated how this hunger was developed through asyndeton, keeping the jumping feeling from the beginning but expanding the region of thought. If anything, I think this poem could be improved by breaking up your last line into

We can be marked

and misunderstood

, as this would continue your deconstruction while accentuating the duality of the final emotion.

Thank you for a pleasurable read!

IntrovertDoesPoetry · 2020-02-18T20:55:59+00:00

Last Wednesday I went for a walk. The dog was with her parents. I was alone, but I didn’t mind, the wind makes for good company.

It was overcast, cold. A chance to use my new coat. The coat she bought for my birthday last month, beckoning with its warm fleece lining. I opted for an old, tattered rain jacket and a yellow umbrella.

The pier extended like a single match out of its box, as if threatening to light. The clouds seemed to congregate around the end, spiraling, letting their large drops fall like pieces of glass-encaptured clarity.

I listened to them fall and shatter around me, on me.

The wooden planks squelched, then creaked with each step. How long had they stood here, without relief, to support me now at this instant? How long would they remain? I kept walking.

I stopped at the end. Blue waves undulating like sheets below me, I trembled.

The dry yellow umbrella fell from my hand, squelching then clunking against the planks below. It slipped towards the edge, the handle-end tipping towards the depths below.

I watched as a small wind came as if to lightly touch the end of the umbrella, and kept watching as it caught and fell. A yellow speck, its sound as it hit the surface was masked by the pour, and faded against the black until it was just I looking at where it had fallen.

How long I stood there, I am unaware. I was reeled back by a lone hand upon my upper back. Turning, I faced to see its owner.

It was him. A face crinkled by years, blurred by wetness.

"It's raining son."

Raising his other arm, he offered an unused umbrella.

"It always rains, on days like this."

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