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.
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
21st Mar 2025 00:24am
21st Mar 2025 00:24am
as to why you turn pale
ghosts
are a pigment
of your imagination
are a pigment
of your imagination
#ghosts
48 reads
4 Comments
doriann_barrere
Dorian
Dorian
Poem Published
12th Mar 2025 3:25pm
12th Mar 2025 3:25pm
The Man Selling Black Balloons
No one remembers the first time he came.
Or perhaps, they only remember after.
A shape at the edge of the street,
standing where the streetlights flicker.
A man, if man is the word—
his face a wet smear in the fog,
his suit darker than the night itself,
tailored from something too still to be fabric.
In his hands, the strings—
thin, trembling veins
that stretch upward,
vanishing into ink-dark orbs,
swollen, pulsing, breathing.
He does not speak.
He does not call out.
And yet, the children go to him. ...
Or perhaps, they only remember after.
A shape at the edge of the street,
standing where the streetlights flicker.
A man, if man is the word—
his face a wet smear in the fog,
his suit darker than the night itself,
tailored from something too still to be fabric.
In his hands, the strings—
thin, trembling veins
that stretch upward,
vanishing into ink-dark orbs,
swollen, pulsing, breathing.
He does not speak.
He does not call out.
And yet, the children go to him. ...
#devil
#ghosts
#magic
#monsters
#mythology
75 reads
1 Comment
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
24th Feb 2025 00:46am
24th Feb 2025 00:46am
a rather new old adage
mushrooms look unappetising for a reason;
they don’t want to be eaten ..
tomatoes, poor fools, appear bright and ruddy well eat them
or I swear I’ll give you cabbage
they don’t want to be eaten ..
tomatoes, poor fools, appear bright and ruddy well eat them
or I swear I’ll give you cabbage
#ghosts
77 reads
6 Comments
arortiz73
MTP
MTP
Poem Published
23rd Feb 2025 2:47pm
23rd Feb 2025 2:47pm
BOUND TO THE BONORDEN
All aboard and toward The Bonorden,
a building built on buried forces,
boarded up, condemned and cordoned.
Ward of the state then state awarded;
broken-in and badly broken,
beyond the horde, with horrors afforded.
Hundreds died, estates were shorted.
Suicides: some spiral corded, bathtub fried,
and over-snorted. Below the bend,
the rivers fyorded, Meskwaki's end...
that's The Bonorden.
From Evelyn to Lauritzens,
sordid presences recorded;
a harem of hens' faded voices
are denizens at The Bonorden.
...
a building built on buried forces,
boarded up, condemned and cordoned.
Ward of the state then state awarded;
broken-in and badly broken,
beyond the horde, with horrors afforded.
Hundreds died, estates were shorted.
Suicides: some spiral corded, bathtub fried,
and over-snorted. Below the bend,
the rivers fyorded, Meskwaki's end...
that's The Bonorden.
From Evelyn to Lauritzens,
sordid presences recorded;
a harem of hens' faded voices
are denizens at The Bonorden.
...
#ghosts
#historical
#horror
#monsters
#nonfiction
73 reads
7 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
18th Feb 2025 7:49am
18th Feb 2025 7:49am
Faustian City Blues
Faustian City Blues
The neon dancers are framed
In the purple glow of harlequins
In the court of autumn kings
Sitting on barstool thrones
Whose greying crowns
Are the color of pigeons perched on powerlines
Like angels gazing down ruefully
From smoky bourbon eyes
When even ghosts of the Storyville Night
Cry under sheets stained in the salty brine
Of love gone wrong on a Faustian mattress
For the rose of yesteryear
The neon dancers are framed
In the purple glow of harlequins
In the court of autumn kings
Sitting on barstool thrones
Whose greying crowns
Are the color of pigeons perched on powerlines
Like angels gazing down ruefully
From smoky bourbon eyes
When even ghosts of the Storyville Night
Cry under sheets stained in the salty brine
Of love gone wrong on a Faustian mattress
For the rose of yesteryear
#aging
#alcohol
#angels #ghosts
#angels #ghosts
59 reads
0 Comments
Nil
Nolan
Nolan
Poem Published
16th Feb 2025 7:15pm
16th Feb 2025 7:15pm
Asatru of the prairie
Down here in the coolies.
Right down by the slough.
I sit.
In the mud and dirty things.
Exasperated in my exhaustion.
Lying among dog tails and sweet grass.
Spear grass and hand picked sage.
And, let this smoke carry my sacrifice.
To the spirts.
And may they dim the sun.
So it doesn't beat down on me so.
As the sun turns orange.
Pink.
And red.
The sunset.
Announces the coming.
Of the cool night air.
And, I see Hugin and Munin.
Or, is it just raven.
In pairs.
...
Right down by the slough.
I sit.
In the mud and dirty things.
Exasperated in my exhaustion.
Lying among dog tails and sweet grass.
Spear grass and hand picked sage.
And, let this smoke carry my sacrifice.
To the spirts.
And may they dim the sun.
So it doesn't beat down on me so.
As the sun turns orange.
Pink.
And red.
The sunset.
Announces the coming.
Of the cool night air.
And, I see Hugin and Munin.
Or, is it just raven.
In pairs.
...
#ghosts
#pagan
#prayer
112 reads
1 Comment
ThePalestRider
Poem Published
14th Feb 2025 5:48pm
14th Feb 2025 5:48pm
Display of Silence
Walk the earth
A pittance paid
Bloodied coin ‘neath weeping sky
Praise
Praise upon lips
Hollow hymns in hollow halls
Songs sung
Yet the tongues do tremble
A tumultuous fire
A searing wail
The crack
The crack of lightning
A flash
A breath
Then silence
Silence
Of whispers long dead
Of prayers lost to time
Names blown
Blown
Like dust on the wind
A pittance paid
Bloodied coin ‘neath weeping sky
Praise
Praise upon lips
Hollow hymns in hollow halls
Songs sung
Yet the tongues do tremble
A tumultuous fire
A searing wail
The crack
The crack of lightning
A flash
A breath
Then silence
Silence
Of whispers long dead
Of prayers lost to time
Names blown
Blown
Like dust on the wind
#ghosts
#silence
55 reads
0 Comments
Stoney223
WOLF BAY33
WOLF BAY33
Poem Published
13th Feb 2025 10:47pm
13th Feb 2025 10:47pm
The gateways
The elders say that there are those things, that we all will never truly understand, things that are beyond our mortal mere existence. For it's not an mirage, or a figment of your thoughts or imagination. FOR it's real as it goes way back in time, before you and I were ever was Born. FOR sure even back then evil forces, were always against the good spiritual forces of souls of what is good. For I can remember, when I was young somethings from my own dreams, in the wee hours of the night, having feelings like I wasn't really alone in my room. 🫣 Yet I was to afraid to move and tell...
#dialogue
#ghosts
#mythology
#nightmares
#StreamOfConsciousness
66 reads
0 Comments
Crimsonofpassion
Poem Published
6th Feb 2025 8:32pm
6th Feb 2025 8:32pm
Taken in the Dark
#dark
#erotic
#ghosts
203 reads
1 Comment
3Y3S-THVT-S33
Electra
Electra
Poem Published
5th Feb 2025 4:15pm
5th Feb 2025 4:15pm
No Title.
It's so funny how you think you can see me
But I bleed before a crowd
They wade through my blood
Blame it on the flood
I am unseen
As they walk through me
I am a ghost
In the host of dead believers
But I bleed before a crowd
They wade through my blood
Blame it on the flood
I am unseen
As they walk through me
I am a ghost
In the host of dead believers
#emptiness
#ghosts
#ignorance
#rejection
#war
102 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
3rd Feb 2025 8:53pm
3rd Feb 2025 8:53pm
Miss Birdseed
The public house had long been haunted by some strange presence that upset slop trays and let beer dribble out from the taps when no one was looking, but it was not really about this that the publican's wife had come to consult the occult detective, Joshua Samuels.
'That's just the Pimlico poisoner, that is' said Mrs Godalming with weird alacrity. 'Back in my grandfather's day, the pub was frequented by bigwigs from Westminster on their way to County Hall, where Maggie Struthers was strung up by her neck in the place of execution for killing her husband and child with arsenic....
'That's just the Pimlico poisoner, that is' said Mrs Godalming with weird alacrity. 'Back in my grandfather's day, the pub was frequented by bigwigs from Westminster on their way to County Hall, where Maggie Struthers was strung up by her neck in the place of execution for killing her husband and child with arsenic....
#evil
#ghosts
#historical #horror
#historical #horror
57 reads
0 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
31st Jan 2025 7:45pm
31st Jan 2025 7:45pm
Banshee
Distracted by the mirror
without a shadow of a doubt,
there remains this nestled
and threatening animal,
resident of my rib cage,
tick tock of a time bomb
beating in the folds of eternity.
This beast that inhabits me,
and turns me inside out,
screaming to all the winds
that no longer move any mills.
"The soldiers are at the door, sir!
What do we do now?"
"Scream, captain, scream
until their ears burst."
without a shadow of a doubt,
there remains this nestled
and threatening animal,
resident of my rib cage,
tick tock of a time bomb
beating in the folds of eternity.
This beast that inhabits me,
and turns me inside out,
screaming to all the winds
that no longer move any mills.
"The soldiers are at the door, sir!
What do we do now?"
"Scream, captain, scream
until their ears burst."
#anxiety
#depression
#ghosts
#mythology
#spiritual
84 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Ghost Poems
