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Collector (dedicated to Ann of Norway)

No longer do ghosts haunt the graveyard stones
Their wraith-like bodies now sleep as their souls pass over
So who haunts these cities of the dead?
I am known by the dead, as The Collector

I wander the land where headstones lay
I walk slowly between them
Brushing my fingers ever so lightly across their granite tops
When I receive a sign, I stop

I stare into and beyond their engravings left by the stonemason
I penetrate deep into their rough façade
Once prepared, I focus and bend upon one knee
Closing my eyes, I place one hand onto the marker
The other hand I push down gradually into the soil

The cool and often moist grass slides between my fingers
Waiting, I breathe slowly, this is not to be rushed
I await for the darkness to wrap securely around me
And only then, do I whisper the words
“Come to me”
Energy warms the earth and caresses my hand

I become the host
I absorb, I feel, I taste until I have taken my fill
The myriad of sensations from the soul reverberates within me

Memories, experience and wisdom
Words, images, love and pain
Tears, laughter, joy and despair
Sadness, ecstasy, misery and hope

I take in every tendril of emotion until I am full
Death is only one journey
Before embarking on the next
The life-soul must pure itself ready to move on
But not before finding a safe haven for the collected dreams

These bodies have long rotted away leaving just fractured bones and dust
But the souls linger
Awaiting The Collector
Once I have taken my fill, the soul takes in a new fresh breath
Cleansed, the soul flies to a new destination
Where the next journey begins

I rest calmly after each connection and feel their energy burn inside me
I always thank the entity before they fly
And fly they do, like comets into the freedom of the sky
Where they go, I do not know
But wherever it is, they travel unburdened

These souls long to share and pass everything they have onto the living
In death these collections of sense and feelings are of no use
Once transferred to a living soul
They can move on

No longer do spirits haunt the graveyard stones
Their wraith-like bodies now live and breathe
So who haunts these cities of the dead?
Me, The Collector

With every moment we live, we collect and store
Collecting those moments deep down into our core
When our moment passes we release and share
Shifting our moments to a new vessel to bear

© 2011 hoodedstranger.com

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Ann of Norway is spending this weekend with me, so it was time to post the poem I wrote for her a few days ago - HS
Editing stage: 

Comments

Rosi,

I didn't miss your blog about Ann visting. You seemed to have a great time.

Thanks for the punctuation advice - you're right, I'll sort that.

regards,

HS

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With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

author comment

I copied this into word and replaced all the line breaks with commas and all the paragraph breaks with full-stops. And you know what? It didn't really read any differently.

Love the content but I'm afraid this is more poetic prose than poetry.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

Jess,

this was just something for Ann. Definetly poetic prose...but I don't care, this was just something in my head, no plans to do much with it. It is what it is.

There was a reason for writing this and having done it, i have created a new character for my novel.

cheers,

HS

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With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

author comment

that will be one scary character!

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Directors

Jess,

I want to make it a very scary character and I will base his image on your new profile picture!!

Lol!

HS

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With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

author comment

This is wonderful! I love the mix of emotions I got from the reading of this piece! The idea of the collector is really grand! I would like to read more about (him?) Just one thing, in this line:

I wait for the darkness to wrap securely around me

It think: ( I await the darkness to wrap securely around me) sounds better.

always, Cat

p.s.
Is Ann as lovely as I imagine her to be?

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

Cat,

I hoped you'd appreciate the theme of this one. The Collector is definetly going to be a character in my book. Just need to give him a suitable name.

"I await" - much better...thanks!

Ann is lovely and real fun to be around. We had a real good time.

regards,

HS

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With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

author comment

simply put this write demonstrates your sensitivities the way you have connected with the departed souls...we often write more about the living whereas much less about the only certainty...

raj (sublime_ocean)

Enjoyed the read.

Kinda eerie, someone who thrusts his hand into the soil where bodies lie beneath... rotted flesh and bone.... was relieved that he was only groping in there to pluck out a restless soul in need of deliverance.

I was half expecting something gorier, perhaps a Hannibal Lector-like character in search of something more... substantial... and squilchier....

was sorta relieved that his real calling was somewhat nobler....

Nice and dark....

Psyve

Psyve,

this was always going to be a 'happier' feeling poem, but I must admit as I was writing it I had evil thoughts and really wanted a twist at the end, but I promised Ann it would not turn ugly!! It was a tough assignment.

I tried to keep it dark, and still have some bright light in it.

Thanks for dropping by to comment,

regards,

HS

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With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

author comment

the name of The Collector. Even though the soul is released, the essence of it is transcribed and collected by The Collector. I guess it could be scary, if the soul were evil. I presume that is your intent, to make some of the souls that are collected, very evil and nasty? Great piece of work for Ann, the Queen of Neopoetland. Say hello to her, from her knight, Sir Gee.

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Critique or comment today!

Gee,

I like the "Collector" name as it doesn't give away if this character is good or bad.

As for the character in my story, it will be a dark and evil person...but to what end, I am not sure yet.

Ann is now safely home in Norway. She sent me a poem she wrote about our visit to a graveyard during her stay.

Thanks mate,

HS

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Workshops are now open:
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With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

author comment

I have a suggestion for your character's name: Edge Walker

love, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

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