The Curse Carrier

I saw him first when my Uncle Joe

Was travelling to his grave,

I’d said to avoid that gypsy girl

But he was too late to save,

He’d fallen down in an alleyway

Ahead of some gypsy curse,

And there was a man with a ponytail,

Walking behind the hearse.

 

He walked ten paces, after the hearse

His eyes cast down to the ground,

Holding a small, enamelled box

With a handle set in the crown,

And round the sides were a pair of eyes

Where the pupils glared, bright red,

Just like a demon staring out

With my uncle, stone cold dead.

 

They took the coffin out of the hearse

And laid it down on the earth,

Next to the hole they’d dug before

Then spoke of my uncle’s dearth.

The man with the ponytail stood back

To wait for the ‘dust to dust’,

Then everyone left the grave but him,

He said that he stayed, he must!

 

‘You’d better be getting off,’ he said

‘To join your friends at the wake,’

‘I’d rather be watching you,’ I said,

‘Just what’s in that box you take?’

He held it up and away from me,

‘I think you’d better not know,

If you would not be infected, then

Take my advice, and go!’

 

Some months went by and the evil eye

Picked out a girl that I knew,

Her health was sound, but she still went down,

They said it was only the flu,

I followed the hearse to the cemetery,

Stood back at the mourner’s tail,

And there, ten paces behind the hearse

Was the man with the ponytail.

 

He carried the box I’d seen before

Or thought I had, it was new,

For something was different, then I saw

The eyes on the box were blue,

I wondered if they were red for men

And blue for an innocent girl,

But after they left, he still stood there

With his box at the end of the world.

 

I lunged at him and I seized the box,

And held it up with a shout,

‘Don’t be a fool,’ he snarled at me,

‘You’d better not let it out!

I have to bury the curse with her

The one that brought her to grief,

If this should get in the world out there

It will spread, beyond belief!’

 

I fought him off and I took it home,

I broke the lock on the lid,

And there inside was a parchment, old

With a script that I couldn’t read,

The ink had faded to sepia,

A brown, the colour of mud,

And there at the base, two signatures,

And they’d been written in blood.

 

I felt a force as I held it there,

Leaching into my hands,

Travelling steadily up my arms

A force I couldn’t command,

Then everyone that I spoke to seemed

To die, the following day,

I’d never seen so many funerals,

My friends, all passing away.

 

But now, the man in the ponytail

Stood still as each hearse passed by,

Holding a small enamelled box

With a red and glaring eye,

My heart stood still as he glared at me,

He followed wherever I fled,

I know he’s lying in wait, to walk

Behind the hearse, when I’m dead!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Becky C Strukamp]

You kept me on the edge of my seat with this one. A spine chilling poem David. Alfred Hitchcock from years past was so masterful and chilling with his movies and always a speech before each episode. Glued to the tube, his voice and words he spoke held me captive. This is exactly how your poems and reads come across to me. Alfred Hitchcock was a brilliant man with heart pounding movies. As a young girl I couldnt get enough of Mr Hitchcocks movies, now as an adult I can't get enough of David Lewis Paget's poetry and recitals. Excellent!

[TPK Stories]

Great story! ;+)

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A edge of your seat piece, telling and true.

[Marc Marlon Villaflor]

Always Great! can't find a words best to illustrate than perfection!
Great write!

[Tate Morgan]

Your ability to caress a story to life and detail it in all its fervor is without peer. As always i set astounded and humbled at each reading Bravo.

[Valentine]

I read this yesterday and reviewed it..it is terrific..Kathie

[quinfinn]

we used to have a saying in my family when my dad was still alive, "if you don't know what it does don't f**k with it" apparently, this is sage advice. well done, David, another stellar write!

[Marie]

People can be so foolish...boxes are locked for a reason...perhaps not to keep you out but to keep something in...

[redflutterby]

Love this dark and haunting tale. Big fan of Poe and this brought him to mind. The ending made me shiver with horrible delight.

[Veronica Chandler]

Your captivating tale has left me here nodding my head up and down; some things are better left unknown, some things best unsaid. It is as though your words take me with them wither they go.

"My heart stood still as he glared at me,
He followed wherever I fled,
I know he’s lying in wait, to walk
Behind the hearse, when I’m dead!"

Such a fitting end to the story! The journey is always one that lifts and one that teaches me; thank you for the write it is so enjoyable.