The House Which Wasn’t Haunted… by Purple Mark Wirth


The House Which Wasn’t Haunted

With fears so vague and suspicions depending
upon small points, the very horror lies in

my situation: the House itself.

It is not that the House is haunted, which spoils the ghostliness of it,

but there is something strange about the House that I can feel.

It is in a village that has been abandoned
by the peasants for fear of Revenants

either of real or imagined pasts.

If I were of better means or had other options,
I would move away from the shadows that fall

almost imperceptibly awry,

too many shadows which have no source in anything visible, but as it is I am
forced to exist

with these uneasy intangibilities.

Were it Ghosts, I might have at least something
with which I could talk with, but they

are not even that concrete.

It is more like the House is at the center
of many worlds and their possibilities,

none of which have made up their minds

as to which will manifest and which will remain
unsatisfied in their hope of existence. It is

a difficult atmosphere to live within its walls.

I feel that I am only barely tolerated by these conditions as if they, not me
were in charge of

the House with its care and maintenance.

If I were not there, it might be that the House
would at least settle into one configuration or other, but for now it both is
and isn’t haunted.


Purple Mark aka Mark Wirth courts way too many Muses: Chocolate-Making, Costuming, Millinery, Photography, Painting, Drawing, Novel-Writing and Poetry. In College, he was the Art Director for the MSU Literary Annual for 2 years and an issue of Scimitar: Illustrations, Layout and some Poetry. In the Seattle area, he worked on Mythos in a like manner and provided additional photography as well as short stories.

Copyright © 2012 by Purple Mark Wirth





1 thought on “The House Which Wasn’t Haunted… by Purple Mark Wirth

  1. Mark like a post Poe poem brilliantly manages to message us in his grotesque house of horrors and paints us a portrait we won’t forget in our flesh or Druid experiences under his artistic thumb.

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