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.
PAR
Poem Published
Yesterday 9:40pm
Yesterday 9:40pm
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
29 reads
4 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
17th Apr 2024 1:37pm
17th Apr 2024 1:37pm
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
58 reads
4 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
14th Apr 2024 11:12pm
14th Apr 2024 11:12pm
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
93 reads
0 Comments
afinestranger
Poem Published
13th Apr 2024 5:15pm
13th Apr 2024 5:15pm
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
53 reads
5 Comments
nightbirdblue
enbyblue
enbyblue
Poem Published
8th Apr 2024 7:04pm
8th Apr 2024 7:04pm
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
84 reads
12 Comments
diddi
Poem Published
6th Apr 2024 3:11am
6th Apr 2024 3:11am
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
38 reads
0 Comments
Kinkpoet
Poem Published
4th Apr 2024 7:16pm
4th Apr 2024 7:16pm
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
38 reads
3 Comments
Green_Arrow
Poem Published
30th Mar 2024 12:42pm
30th Mar 2024 12:42pm
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
52 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
29th Mar 2024 4:21pm
29th Mar 2024 4:21pm
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
51 reads
0 Comments
adagio
Poem Published
29th Mar 2024 12:56pm
29th Mar 2024 12:56pm
Fading Hoary-with deliabear
Like a silhouette, a shadow on the wall
of memories in footsteps echoing time.
A cloaked ghost in the fading hoary
descends stairs as the pendulum chimes.
To a shady boon of dark souls,
over the brow of the falling hoary.
Listening to the voices of the tomb builders
as they shouldered their spades.
Like an intricately shattered silhouette,
a hellish shadow strikes the wall.
Memories of footsteps shuffling
through the aching whine of fallen time.
Regret ancient echoes crowding my mind
of ghosts cloaked in...
of memories in footsteps echoing time.
A cloaked ghost in the fading hoary
descends stairs as the pendulum chimes.
To a shady boon of dark souls,
over the brow of the falling hoary.
Listening to the voices of the tomb builders
as they shouldered their spades.
Like an intricately shattered silhouette,
a hellish shadow strikes the wall.
Memories of footsteps shuffling
through the aching whine of fallen time.
Regret ancient echoes crowding my mind
of ghosts cloaked in...
#dark
#ghosts
172 reads
5 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
26th Mar 2024 8:00am
26th Mar 2024 8:00am
(king oskar sardiner)
A Brisling (King Oscar sardines)
I opened a tin of sardines in olive oil for supper
Headless and nicely packed, except for one
that had a head and was alive.
I put the live one in a glass jar; the others looked
so dead I could not eat them, put the tin back
into the fridge
My little King Oscar sardine grew and was too
big for a jar, I had fed it bread crumbs,
real home
baked with butter.
Suddenly, there were many cats in the yard the adventurous cats
tried to find an open window
I took my sardine to an empty lake. ...
I opened a tin of sardines in olive oil for supper
Headless and nicely packed, except for one
that had a head and was alive.
I put the live one in a glass jar; the others looked
so dead I could not eat them, put the tin back
into the fridge
My little King Oscar sardine grew and was too
big for a jar, I had fed it bread crumbs,
real home
baked with butter.
Suddenly, there were many cats in the yard the adventurous cats
tried to find an open window
I took my sardine to an empty lake. ...
#monsters
#dragons
#ghosts #fairies
#ghosts #fairies
45 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
24th Mar 2024 9:34am
24th Mar 2024 9:34am
Odessa
Odessa 1955
On the Black Sea, the boy dressed for galley heat
stood on deck, wanted to see the ice flow
he was poverty- thin and too young for the sea
So much ice to see watched too long
got a nasty cold and became ill with a high fever
in Odessa, they sent him to a hospital
What he remembers is doctors in tall white hats
and rotund nurses who fed him dark beer and plenty of sweets
When feeling better, he walked into the hall
was offered Russian cigarettes by
other patients, large filters but not much tobacco
He was getting...
On the Black Sea, the boy dressed for galley heat
stood on deck, wanted to see the ice flow
he was poverty- thin and too young for the sea
So much ice to see watched too long
got a nasty cold and became ill with a high fever
in Odessa, they sent him to a hospital
What he remembers is doctors in tall white hats
and rotund nurses who fed him dark beer and plenty of sweets
When feeling better, he walked into the hall
was offered Russian cigarettes by
other patients, large filters but not much tobacco
He was getting...
#God
#angels
#ghosts
#aliens
#witches
45 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Ghost Poems
