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.
JohnnyBlaze
Poem Published
14th Oct 2021 9:19am
14th Oct 2021 9:19am
Creeping Death
Fog rollin in, likes of which never seen before
traveling against wind, quietly approaching shore
There's something within it I can't quite put my finger on
as if an infected wound gone too long without medicine
And those persistent rappings at the door . . .
I beg of you, don't let it in
Here, now, are we to be held accountable? Atone
for sins of others buried without consciences?
Is this a Fate of our own making breaking against the hull?
Can we be born into this world cursed souls?
So many...
traveling against wind, quietly approaching shore
There's something within it I can't quite put my finger on
as if an infected wound gone too long without medicine
And those persistent rappings at the door . . .
I beg of you, don't let it in
Here, now, are we to be held accountable? Atone
for sins of others buried without consciences?
Is this a Fate of our own making breaking against the hull?
Can we be born into this world cursed souls?
So many...
#Halloween
#ghosts
#revenge #fear
#revenge #fear
38 reads
2 Comments
Xaphan
Poem Published
13th Oct 2021 10:29pm
13th Oct 2021 10:29pm
Dead Man's Fingers
Down in a moonlit Cornish cove the Dutchman's crew were washed ashore
Ethereal figures from a creeping sea mist, seeking trove from a man-o'-war
And stealthily they climbed the cliffs, on the way to a distiller's lair in St Ives
Drifting spice laced spirits were there, to claim the dark souls of others lives
Mariners hid away, in the local inns, some relaxed in houses and the Shack
All supped, from a dead man's skull, under flags of the white cross on black
None the wiser were they, as an ominous shroud crept in from a rocky knoll
'twas ne'er their fate to...
Ethereal figures from a creeping sea mist, seeking trove from a man-o'-war
And stealthily they climbed the cliffs, on the way to a distiller's lair in St Ives
Drifting spice laced spirits were there, to claim the dark souls of others lives
Mariners hid away, in the local inns, some relaxed in houses and the Shack
All supped, from a dead man's skull, under flags of the white cross on black
None the wiser were they, as an ominous shroud crept in from a rocky knoll
'twas ne'er their fate to...
#death
#alcohol
#ghosts #fear
#ghosts #fear
40 reads
Wornwolf
Poem Published
13th Oct 2021 6:52am
13th Oct 2021 6:52am
The boogie man
#monsters
#ghosts
#mythology
#luck
#curse
29 reads
10 Comments
Shinobi
Poem Published
11th Oct 2021 2:17am
11th Oct 2021 2:17am
The Grace of the Gothic Rose (A Triolet)
O' how the gothic rose bleeds
see her withered darkness so graceful
planted down deeply grows seeds
O' how the gothic rose bleeds
the winds whistles amongst the reeds
she stares into the faces of the faithful
O' how the gothic rose bleeds
see her withered darkness so graceful
see her withered darkness so graceful
planted down deeply grows seeds
O' how the gothic rose bleeds
the winds whistles amongst the reeds
she stares into the faces of the faithful
O' how the gothic rose bleeds
see her withered darkness so graceful
#sadness
#dark
#ghosts
#nostalgia
#fear
31 reads
3 Comments
Shinobi
Poem Published
8th Oct 2021 5:06pm
8th Oct 2021 5:06pm
Black Cat
I hear...
hymns down corridors
from the faceless nuns
that haunt my dreams
feet don't touch
the antiseptic floors
as the moon rises
I hear...
them rapping at the door
is it the wind that
I hear...
or is something sinister
waiting outside in the walls
tapping down the stone halls
yellow eyes glare
from the corner of my room
as I'm stalked by shadows
I hear...
rustling in the darkness
to seal my doom
the hymns get louder
a tussle of wind blowing ...
hymns down corridors
from the faceless nuns
that haunt my dreams
feet don't touch
the antiseptic floors
as the moon rises
I hear...
them rapping at the door
is it the wind that
I hear...
or is something sinister
waiting outside in the walls
tapping down the stone halls
yellow eyes glare
from the corner of my room
as I'm stalked by shadows
I hear...
rustling in the darkness
to seal my doom
the hymns get louder
a tussle of wind blowing ...
#strength
#cats
#Halloween
#ghosts
#fear
20 reads
1 Comment
wallyroo92
Poem Published
8th Oct 2021 4:05pm
8th Oct 2021 4:05pm
Ghost-in-Law (A True Story)
It was one late night sometime back in nineteen seventy five
When Frank came home nine sheets to the wind - intoxicated
His wife was really pissed off and she made him sleep on the couch
She didn’t like his heavy drinking and on that night she was very irritated
But Frank’s mother-in-law, feeling a little sorry for the guy
Thought it was cold so she got up to get sheets and cover him
And as she raised them over her head, in the dark, he suddenly woke up
So he stuttered and screamed seeing floating sheets coming to smother him
The...
When Frank came home nine sheets to the wind - intoxicated
His wife was really pissed off and she made him sleep on the couch
She didn’t like his heavy drinking and on that night she was very irritated
But Frank’s mother-in-law, feeling a little sorry for the guy
Thought it was cold so she got up to get sheets and cover him
And as she raised them over her head, in the dark, he suddenly woke up
So he stuttered and screamed seeing floating sheets coming to smother him
The...
#father
#Halloween
#scary
#funny
#ghosts
27 reads
2 Comments
javalini
Poem Published
8th Oct 2021 1:26pm
8th Oct 2021 1:26pm
TEN ACRES
He still worked hard, mending things about the place, though you wouldn't know it to look around.
He remembered the big garden.
Chickens in the back yard.
Taking pigs to market.
He liked to stroll along the banks of the cow pond and doze sometimes in the heat of the day under the big sycamore on the far side of the pasture where Jessie couldn't see from the house.
At night he slid between worn cotton sheets to lay next to his wife.
He seldom woke her, but thought she was somehow aware of him.
It was, he felt, where he...
He remembered the big garden.
Chickens in the back yard.
Taking pigs to market.
He liked to stroll along the banks of the cow pond and doze sometimes in the heat of the day under the big sycamore on the far side of the pasture where Jessie couldn't see from the house.
At night he slid between worn cotton sheets to lay next to his wife.
He seldom woke her, but thought she was somehow aware of him.
It was, he felt, where he...
#love
#ghosts
40 reads
12 Comments
Xaphan
Poem Published
7th Oct 2021 6:39pm
7th Oct 2021 6:39pm
To The Corn Wraith's Lair
There's a path, that's forever carved, through the unyielding corn
Offering a way, of dead ahead, along which I'm inexorably drawn
Through the undulating crop it leads me astray, of that I'm aware
Hewn by those of the passed, like a track to the corn wraith's lair
Every advancing step that I take, is seemingly, on sun baked soil
Crumbling underfoot, like the very earth itself is implicitly disloyal
Onwards and upwards, or down, always below a raven on a wire
Relentlessly myopic I reach the same nadir, then forty feet higher
Nothing but the corn appears...
Offering a way, of dead ahead, along which I'm inexorably drawn
Through the undulating crop it leads me astray, of that I'm aware
Hewn by those of the passed, like a track to the corn wraith's lair
Every advancing step that I take, is seemingly, on sun baked soil
Crumbling underfoot, like the very earth itself is implicitly disloyal
Onwards and upwards, or down, always below a raven on a wire
Relentlessly myopic I reach the same nadir, then forty feet higher
Nothing but the corn appears...
#death
#countryside
#nature
#ghosts
#FeelingLost
37 reads
Casted_Runes
Turpin
Turpin
Poem Published
5th Oct 2021 11:20pm
5th Oct 2021 11:20pm
The Lock-In
I
The pub was as ancient as war and religion. It stood by the docks and so had a constant sea air. Being inside it was like being on a ship. After a while, the atmosphere was so thick that you could almost feel yourself swaying as if the house was being rocked by the sea.
The landlord was a large man affectionately known as Big Bastard, though his real name was George Grantham. Rumour had it that he'd run with gangsters down south in the late ‘60s and ‘70s, bringing a Glasgow smile to the East End underworld as an enforcer, hired out for his especially brutal tactics....
The pub was as ancient as war and religion. It stood by the docks and so had a constant sea air. Being inside it was like being on a ship. After a while, the atmosphere was so thick that you could almost feel yourself swaying as if the house was being rocked by the sea.
The landlord was a large man affectionately known as Big Bastard, though his real name was George Grantham. Rumour had it that he'd run with gangsters down south in the late ‘60s and ‘70s, bringing a Glasgow smile to the East End underworld as an enforcer, hired out for his especially brutal tactics....
#evil
#sea
#ghosts #ShortStory
#ghosts #ShortStory
39 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Turpin
Turpin
Poem Published
5th Oct 2021 6:33am
5th Oct 2021 6:33am
The Comeuppance
TRIGGER WARNING implied serious sexual assault
The MP stood aside to let the police in. He said that he’d found her after turning up for a dinner date (not romantic, he stressed. Purely business. We just needed to compare notes on an upcoming event) and finding her door open. He walked in, calling her name. He could tell that something was off, but he was a decent guy and couldn’t just turn around and leave. And then he found her. Swinging from a bizarre contraption in her bedroom. It was like a cross between a sex swing and an interrogation device from the Inquisition.
...
The MP stood aside to let the police in. He said that he’d found her after turning up for a dinner date (not romantic, he stressed. Purely business. We just needed to compare notes on an upcoming event) and finding her door open. He walked in, calling her name. He could tell that something was off, but he was a decent guy and couldn’t just turn around and leave. And then he found her. Swinging from a bizarre contraption in her bedroom. It was like a cross between a sex swing and an interrogation device from the Inquisition.
...
#murder
#BDSM
#ghosts #ShortStory
#ghosts #ShortStory
47 reads
2 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
2nd Oct 2021 2:18am
2nd Oct 2021 2:18am
Ghost Town
What was once a thriving town
Has withered into the remnants of history
And if you take a closer look around
You can’t help but feel its story covered in mystery
You can walk through the old and restored buildings
The scent of ancient things
The smell of aged wood
The hot desert air
It gives you the feeling that someone else too is still there
Now its a museum
An amusement park of sorts
Where trinkets and ornaments are sold
So you can take a piece of the past with you
You can see the worn out pictures ...
Has withered into the remnants of history
And if you take a closer look around
You can’t help but feel its story covered in mystery
You can walk through the old and restored buildings
The scent of ancient things
The smell of aged wood
The hot desert air
It gives you the feeling that someone else too is still there
Now its a museum
An amusement park of sorts
Where trinkets and ornaments are sold
So you can take a piece of the past with you
You can see the worn out pictures ...
#dark
#death
#ghosts
#historical
#nostalgia
69 reads
4 Comments
Light101
Poem Published
30th Sep 2021 12:42pm
30th Sep 2021 12:42pm
silent hill
I am silent hill I rain ashes,
flashlight radio let's see what happends,
you are a I know
NO, I am the I know
Your are a horoscope I am the hidden,
I am a reincarnated sin, cast it out,
You are a I know
You are a haunted house,
You are a high hopes
You are the vent slits,
I am the fly's though,
Don't be a bible,
I'm cold it's a spirit,
a soul from my lyrics,
flashlight radio let's see what happends,
you are a I know
NO, I am the I know
Your are a horoscope I am the hidden,
I am a reincarnated sin, cast it out,
You are a I know
You are a haunted house,
You are a high hopes
You are the vent slits,
I am the fly's though,
Don't be a bible,
I'm cold it's a spirit,
a soul from my lyrics,
#monsters
#ghosts
#witches
40 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Ghost Poems
