Ghost Poems
#ghosts
Ghost poems about the souls or spirits of dead people. Poetry about ghosts, ranging from an invisible presence to a translucent shape or realistic, lifelike vision. Superstitious poetry about ghosts, and poems about interactions with a spirit world.
Wandering Lonely
Wading in the hereafter
wandering lonely in my only
with memories from the grave
and a tag on my toes
harmonizing with frogs
with the wailing crickets
swooning in the moonlight
wandering lonely in my only
wandering lonely in my only
with memories from the grave
and a tag on my toes
harmonizing with frogs
with the wailing crickets
swooning in the moonlight
wandering lonely in my only
#curse
#dark
#ghosts #gothic
#ghosts #gothic
105 reads
0 Comments
The Lady Vanishes
Last night, in a dream
I purchance
Met my perfect partner
It was love at first sight
Yet, after much talking
It seemed as though
We'd been together
Forever
She went to the loos
And didn't return
I was deeply puzzled by this
And wondered if i'd completely misread the situation
I watched the door for a while
Then asked for someone to check if she was okay
But there was no-one there
All the loos were empty
I was obviously further puzzled, as there was no back door
Maybe i'd been lost in some waking dream? ...
I purchance
Met my perfect partner
It was love at first sight
Yet, after much talking
It seemed as though
We'd been together
Forever
She went to the loos
And didn't return
I was deeply puzzled by this
And wondered if i'd completely misread the situation
I watched the door for a while
Then asked for someone to check if she was okay
But there was no-one there
All the loos were empty
I was obviously further puzzled, as there was no back door
Maybe i'd been lost in some waking dream? ...
#ghosts
#ShortStory
#surreal
41 reads
0 Comments
Letting Go
The colors went pale
everything died
now ghostly breath
laying in ashes of blush
everything hush
fading into obscurity
bones of antiquity...
letting go
everything died
now ghostly breath
laying in ashes of blush
everything hush
fading into obscurity
bones of antiquity...
letting go
#ghosts
#spiritual
100 reads
7 Comments
ghostly
she died a few days ago
they told me,
of a rare and radical cancer
in the common bile duct,
It saddened me to know...
after leaving her life...
"I don't need the man
but I want the poet."
she said then.
now she is dead
and I remain a poet
even though she doesn't know.
became the ghost muse
of what doesn't rhyme with me.
She died, they told me!
they told me,
of a rare and radical cancer
in the common bile duct,
It saddened me to know...
after leaving her life...
"I don't need the man
but I want the poet."
she said then.
now she is dead
and I remain a poet
even though she doesn't know.
became the ghost muse
of what doesn't rhyme with me.
She died, they told me!
#dark
#death
#ghosts #MyInspiration
#ghosts #MyInspiration
53 reads
4 Comments
Haunting Memories
Haunting memories weeping
from inside myself screaming
hungering for ruins of twilight
to love even on bad days
when it rains a lullaby
and I wear my galoshes
from inside myself screaming
hungering for ruins of twilight
to love even on bad days
when it rains a lullaby
and I wear my galoshes
#dreams
#ghosts
#memories
101 reads
4 Comments
Naked Cold Place
Awakening in this naked cold place
wandering somberly espresso
stained caffeine bleeding red
fading into obscurity's melancholy
haunting my wretched dreams
of fog on the shores of eternal sleep
at the bottom of the demitasse
wandering somberly espresso
stained caffeine bleeding red
fading into obscurity's melancholy
haunting my wretched dreams
of fog on the shores of eternal sleep
at the bottom of the demitasse
#ghosts
#insomnia
#nightmares
123 reads
0 Comments
Poor thing, Clara, she was the perfect child
But sin is an effort to gain the ecstasy and the
knowledge that pertain alone to angels and in
making this effort man becomes a demon.” (Arthur Machen, 1904)
Poor thing, Clara, she was the perfect child.
The old bathroom is stripped down to the bone,
The prettiest skirts, and her little scraped-up knees,
only broken tiles and cobwebs remaining.
AND her infectious smile. Oh, what a shame.
The yellow stain where an imported
The losses we suffer in times like these.
marble vanity probably used to be.
She...
knowledge that pertain alone to angels and in
making this effort man becomes a demon.” (Arthur Machen, 1904)
Poor thing, Clara, she was the perfect child.
The old bathroom is stripped down to the bone,
The prettiest skirts, and her little scraped-up knees,
only broken tiles and cobwebs remaining.
AND her infectious smile. Oh, what a shame.
The yellow stain where an imported
The losses we suffer in times like these.
marble vanity probably used to be.
She...
#gothic
#ghosts
71 reads
5 Comments
Uninspired
Today, I don’t feel like writing
because I feel like a ghost.
I’ve been floating around all day,
suspended in air as I haunt
the hallways with a hollow stare.
I’m frustrated with myself because
I haven’t been able to take care
of my fading mental health.
It feels like my legs are barely moving
and my feet are on wheels,
gliding over the floor with liquid motion.
I am permeable, one with the air around me.
Today’s theme song sounds like
yesterday’s news - overplayed,
understimulated, recycled...
because I feel like a ghost.
I’ve been floating around all day,
suspended in air as I haunt
the hallways with a hollow stare.
I’m frustrated with myself because
I haven’t been able to take care
of my fading mental health.
It feels like my legs are barely moving
and my feet are on wheels,
gliding over the floor with liquid motion.
I am permeable, one with the air around me.
Today’s theme song sounds like
yesterday’s news - overplayed,
understimulated, recycled...
#depression
#ghosts
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
#NaPoWriMo2024
93 reads
12 Comments
False Horizon
Images translucent
still dead, still unfair
but bulletproof
the superchargers
still scream through
the afterlife
and the otherworld
Distant pitches
of sirens
fade in and out
like stitches in the timeline
the rumbling, muffled
climbing roundel
shuffles a tumbling
in a downward spiral.
Number four Merlin
has lost sync
plus three has stalled
due to a fuel leak
The portside
bursts into flames
the altimeter spins
and whirls
losing gain.
...
still dead, still unfair
but bulletproof
the superchargers
still scream through
the afterlife
and the otherworld
Distant pitches
of sirens
fade in and out
like stitches in the timeline
the rumbling, muffled
climbing roundel
shuffles a tumbling
in a downward spiral.
Number four Merlin
has lost sync
plus three has stalled
due to a fuel leak
The portside
bursts into flames
the altimeter spins
and whirls
losing gain.
...
#ghosts
41 reads
0 Comments
The Rocker
the rocking chair,
the old one on the south porch, rocks.
moving rhythmically
back and forth
empowered
by an unseen being.
ghost?
an apache warrior
who died in battle,
a spanish explorer
claiming new territory,
portuguese priest
saving souls,
scottish settler
taming the land,
italian farmer
planting seed,
or is it
just the wind?
© 2024 Raibeart Bruis
the old one on the south porch, rocks.
moving rhythmically
back and forth
empowered
by an unseen being.
ghost?
an apache warrior
who died in battle,
a spanish explorer
claiming new territory,
portuguese priest
saving souls,
scottish settler
taming the land,
italian farmer
planting seed,
or is it
just the wind?
© 2024 Raibeart Bruis
#wind
#nature
#ghosts
43 reads
3 Comments
A New Type Of Dirty Old Man
Brody saw Vanessa go into the barn
before he heard screams which made him rush into that
barn and find her stripped naked and raped due to
his late uncle whose own spirit is still restless.
before he heard screams which made him rush into that
barn and find her stripped naked and raped due to
his late uncle whose own spirit is still restless.
#home
#fiction
#ghosts
#suffering
#sensual
57 reads
0 Comments
The IA
The IA
The Thing, AI, looked like a young man of thirty or so
all human knowledge it has obtained
it could talk about everything, say, philosophy
politics or art, a learned public speaker
but it could
not produce any new ideas.
It had learned certain emotions, smiling
or showing
sympathy and even say kind words
talking to it can be unnerving if you say anything
new, it will repeat what you said and store it for
future use should a similar conversation crop up
Animals know who is a human
seeing it, they will ...
The Thing, AI, looked like a young man of thirty or so
all human knowledge it has obtained
it could talk about everything, say, philosophy
politics or art, a learned public speaker
but it could
not produce any new ideas.
It had learned certain emotions, smiling
or showing
sympathy and even say kind words
talking to it can be unnerving if you say anything
new, it will repeat what you said and store it for
future use should a similar conversation crop up
Animals know who is a human
seeing it, they will ...
#God
#devil
#angels
#ghosts
#aliens
58 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Ghost Poems