At times the ghost of past mistakes
comes late at night to visit;
he whispers to remind me:
about the paths I should have chosen;
about the things I’ve said or deeds
I did and didn’t do.
The ghost of past mistakes is dressed
in worsted wool and
wears a scarlet bow tie
and a cane;
his scent is that of cod and camphor
and he never stays for long.
I never hear a word he says;
but still I understand and comprehend
the things I’ve done and not.
— At times I cannot sleep.
Portrait of a man in a bow tie by Anton Azbe
We write poetry about visits at dVerse tonight. Lilian hosts.
—
December 5, 2017
Björn Rudbergs writings 
My ghost of past mistakes is a nebulous creature…..
I think it can come in many forms
Absolutely! But I did like Mr Cod and Camphor!
The puts me in mind of Marley. It seems to be the season for midnight visitors!
I thought of Marley… yes.
I thought so! 🙂
Ah….very Marley-ish indeed! I love your description of him. hmmmm…the ghost of past mistakes. I’d find that haunting…I’m always reminded not to “ruminate” — as in look forward, expect the best. I think I would do my best to to push him out of my life, camphor scent and all. Perhaps a hot water bottle at my feet and a lavendar sachet ‘neath my pillow! 🙂
Excellent response to the prompt!
The Pantaloons, a travelling theatre group, performed A Christmas Carol in our village hall on Saturday. It was an abridged version, with few props, but such fun. Your ‘ghost of past mistakes’ reminds me of the ghost of Christmas past but I think he might also be related to the aged librarian, Bjorn, a kind of aged bookkeeper of life..I love the detail of the worsted wool, scarlet bow tie and especially the scent of cod and camphor!
Thank you… I thought Christmas Carol would be good to use…
Very appropriate- we were doing a whole day of workshops at school today on “A Christmas Carol”. I think you should invite the spirit in for a glass of mulled wine and explain that without those past mistakes your trajectory on this planet would not be the same as it is. It may well be that they were a necessary part of the journey.
Not very helpful, this kind of visitor. What would be far more useful would be a ghost of future mistakes…
Ha.. that would be a great one… like the one that Scrooge finally got.
And look how happily the story ended!
Mistakes, misadventures, and memories. Each day we have another chance to do better!
Such a thoughtful poem. Sometimes we don’t fully comprehend the consequences of our actions I think but we still know what we did and didn’t. Perhaps our conscience always reminds us.
Ghosts visit me sometimes too
Every night, as family and friends pass away, the queue for specters grows longer; yet in my dreams, the departed and I carry on like they are still with me; perhaps they are.
His scent! I wouldn’t trust him with my livelihood. Something fishy…
Our past mistakes is a somber visitor. We need to call up our past successes so they can reminisce.
Fun images of the visitor in your poem. Really liked this.
Wonderful use of internal rhymes in this one!
I wonder what that image/visage of the ghost means to you. Was it your father? Was it a teacher? Someone you knew? Usually our ghosts are based on someone that we knew. You were quite specific in your description, so it made me wonder.
And the smell.
I think the smell would be the thing to get me cause you would know every time he was there.
The image of him is a mashup of different persons (even those I never met)… to a great deal my father of course (he would have been a hundred years old this year)… the bow tie especially. The scent of camphor is from my grandfather’s old clothes that I took over. But the cod was more something ghastly I added….
Our own monsters/ghosts always make the best as far as details because we are very familiar with them.
I’ll echo X in part. The specificity was superb! Makes it vibrant… scary and wonderful.
Amazing what runs through our minds in the middle of the night when we can’t sleep. I guess with the red bowtie he knows you won’t forget!
Dwight
He never stays for long…but the scent remains. I never hear a word he says….but I hear and comprehend….the scent remains. I really like this. Accusations are quick and sharp, but scents linger on.
Those nighttime visitors make for craziness. And discouragement. Great rhyme and rhythm.
This is a most relatable experience, yet you describe it in such an unusual way. That smell, especially, of cod and camphor, lingers like the sickening feeling brought on by acknowledging mistakes. Very well done.
past mistakes would keep anyone awake … but still the scent “of cod and camphor” lingers long after the person is gone and that alone would keep sleep at bay. love the poem.
Ah, we’ve all had this kind of visit every once in a while… well written, bjorn.
A great extended metaphor of regret, our haunted past. I like the hat tip allusion to a Christmas Carol!
The unspoken voice of the mistakes…this is chilling and true. You made me feel it in my bones.
scents are the greatest memory triggers, i read your words and thought about my grandpa, he always smelled of cod liver oil, beautiful poem Bjorn.
Cod and camphor complete with bow tie – I love it!
That ghost of past mistakes, visit me every night. Love how you described that ghost Bjorn ~
Well, these ghosts visits all of us but it’s no use keeping regrets in life. We should move on without letting ghosts shadow our lives. I love the way you describe the ghosts with scarlet bow tie 🙂
What an evocative figure of a visitor!
He visits me quite often too!
that ghost is a visitor to one and all… are they all friends? loved your imagery of that ghost …
Many people have met this visitor. I like that you “never hear a word he says.” That vague sense of regret or “what if” is relatable.
Our conscience/regret can be heavy, itchy like wool…a visitor silent and grizzled with accusing eyes…
A hauntingly drawn personification.
Love your honest transparency in your writing!