Least Read Poems About Ghosts
#ghosts
FeNyX
Poem Published
30th Dec 2020 2:48pm
30th Dec 2020 2:48pm
If Pain Dripped Like Time Ticked
With each ticking of the clock
A drop of pain drains down
Pooling around my body in flood
An island in my own lifeblood
All I can see is the clock ticking
It's echoing booming clack
Dripping drops draining fast
I feel I may no longer last
Tick Drip Tick Drip
Tick Drip Tick Drip
Tick Drip Tick Drip
The Ghosts start dancing
The bells start ringing
The heavens open
My heart starts singing ...
The parade of dead dreams shuffles past ...
All In chains and ankle irons
In regular procession...
A drop of pain drains down
Pooling around my body in flood
An island in my own lifeblood
All I can see is the clock ticking
It's echoing booming clack
Dripping drops draining fast
I feel I may no longer last
Tick Drip Tick Drip
Tick Drip Tick Drip
Tick Drip Tick Drip
The Ghosts start dancing
The bells start ringing
The heavens open
My heart starts singing ...
The parade of dead dreams shuffles past ...
All In chains and ankle irons
In regular procession...
#ghosts
#memories
#hurt
8 reads
6 Comments
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
7th Feb 2022 8:38pm
7th Feb 2022 8:38pm
Spectre
I live my lonely life
all for this death... its strife
for all eternity
in this soul fraternity
walking alone
as cold as a stone
become ever more gaunt
the longer I haunt
this now barren page
fading words once sage
all for this death... its strife
for all eternity
in this soul fraternity
walking alone
as cold as a stone
become ever more gaunt
the longer I haunt
this now barren page
fading words once sage
#ghosts
#confessional
#LifeAsAWriter
#TruthOfLife
#WritingPoetry
10 reads
1 Comment
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
5th Apr 2024 7:20pm
5th Apr 2024 7:20pm
A Daughter of Poe
Funny how no one should know
of this lone daughter of Poe
who only penned with a black quill
with her blood the ink for her spill
Writing macabre lines in the dark
in the hopeless hope to then spark
some creative juices to flow
leaving a real trace then to show
Of a most serpentine mind
on a most lonely quest to find
some clear hereditary link
within this blend of Indian ink
With no apparent telltale sign
or any mere hint of the divine
shunning the word "nevermore"
preferring instead...
of this lone daughter of Poe
who only penned with a black quill
with her blood the ink for her spill
Writing macabre lines in the dark
in the hopeless hope to then spark
some creative juices to flow
leaving a real trace then to show
Of a most serpentine mind
on a most lonely quest to find
some clear hereditary link
within this blend of Indian ink
With no apparent telltale sign
or any mere hint of the divine
shunning the word "nevermore"
preferring instead...
#ghosts
#confessional
#TruthOfLife
#MentalHealth
#EdgarAllanPoe
10 reads
4 Comments
Cyndi_Moone
Poem Published
27th Jun 2018 6:53am
27th Jun 2018 6:53am
Dance of the Dead
Peering out the old cottage window, facing the cemetery across the street
Bored with nothing to do, to go, and no one to meet.
The pale moon shines full and bright with no clouds to cover.
The night breeze gently blows-open the shutters;
it’s a perfect night for such a long summer.
Grandpa’s old clock strikes at midnight; without expecting anything spectacular
I take, in my hands, grandpa’s bird-watching binoculars. ...
Bored with nothing to do, to go, and no one to meet.
The pale moon shines full and bright with no clouds to cover.
The night breeze gently blows-open the shutters;
it’s a perfect night for such a long summer.
Grandpa’s old clock strikes at midnight; without expecting anything spectacular
I take, in my hands, grandpa’s bird-watching binoculars. ...
#ghosts
#nightmares
21 reads
6 Comments
Bonzi
Poem Published
12th Sep 2019 4:40am
12th Sep 2019 4:40am
Gifts
Cool sweat drips, collecting, dancing
to the pulse in a jugular notch.
Another night....
Your distorted voice cuts through
the humming spaces of creaky fan blades.
My will fights the urge for clarity.
Acknowledgement gives life to the unknown.
A ‘gift’ that was given can never be returned,
brought to the forefront to be admired
by unseen eyes.
An heirloom
passed down, hidden
within our blood, staining bone,
scaring the soul.
Maybe...
to the pulse in a jugular notch.
Another night....
Your distorted voice cuts through
the humming spaces of creaky fan blades.
My will fights the urge for clarity.
Acknowledgement gives life to the unknown.
A ‘gift’ that was given can never be returned,
brought to the forefront to be admired
by unseen eyes.
An heirloom
passed down, hidden
within our blood, staining bone,
scaring the soul.
Maybe...
#ghosts
#witches
21 reads
4 Comments
Thor_Azine
Poem Published
5th Sep 2024 6:58pm
5th Sep 2024 6:58pm
The Ink I Bleed
Eyes closed, adrift in a dystopian delusion
flailing in the quicksand of someone
else’s hourglass, sinking only to be turned
around again and drowned
Who swings the pendulum, can I not
choose my own reality as I press my
legs against the glass, if it breaks am I
cut into a million stars, or am I left
whole, carrying the scars of a universe
Perhaps the universe as we know it is
merely a glitter globe sitting on the desk
of a man dreaming about drowning, all of
us have hourglasses to shatter or die
Having...
flailing in the quicksand of someone
else’s hourglass, sinking only to be turned
around again and drowned
Who swings the pendulum, can I not
choose my own reality as I press my
legs against the glass, if it breaks am I
cut into a million stars, or am I left
whole, carrying the scars of a universe
Perhaps the universe as we know it is
merely a glitter globe sitting on the desk
of a man dreaming about drowning, all of
us have hourglasses to shatter or die
Having...
#emptiness
#ghosts
#regret #TimeHeals
#regret #TimeHeals
21 reads
8 Comments
missjem56
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:18pm
Yesterday 1:18pm
The Ghosts Of Mount Everest
This is a very short tale
Ghosts don't show, on snow
Hidden by the snowy landscape
That's possibly why
People rarely see Yeti's
And i can't be to certain
That Yeti's may have problems
Seeing other Yeti's
As for Yeti ghosts
How could anyone know for sure
That if they encounter a Yeti
Whether it's alive, or a ghost
Or even a ghost
Of a hairy mountaineer?
by Jemia
Ghosts don't show, on snow
Hidden by the snowy landscape
That's possibly why
People rarely see Yeti's
And i can't be to certain
That Yeti's may have problems
Seeing other Yeti's
As for Yeti ghosts
How could anyone know for sure
That if they encounter a Yeti
Whether it's alive, or a ghost
Or even a ghost
Of a hairy mountaineer?
by Jemia
#funny
#ghosts
#mountains
#satirical
#snow
22 reads
0 Comments
LilDragonFly
Poem Published
21st Jul 2020 3:23pm
21st Jul 2020 3:23pm
Apparition
I can only see you
when I close my eyes
close my mind
leaving reason far behind
Letting myself then feel
the turning of the wheel
the ticking of the tock
from the eternal muted clock
Did you have a life
unlived ...
a gift ungiven
that you now must tote
With every line I wrote
I tried to firmly grasp
that ethereal hasp
locking up this mortal world
Like a twister untwirled
letting me finally see
all of the debris
I am leaving in my wake ...
when I close my eyes
close my mind
leaving reason far behind
Letting myself then feel
the turning of the wheel
the ticking of the tock
from the eternal muted clock
Did you have a life
unlived ...
a gift ungiven
that you now must tote
With every line I wrote
I tried to firmly grasp
that ethereal hasp
locking up this mortal world
Like a twister untwirled
letting me finally see
all of the debris
I am leaving in my wake ...
#ghosts
24 reads
15 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
9th Apr 2025 12:02pm
9th Apr 2025 12:02pm
180 barrels
180 barrels
A trendy couple fled a tourist resort and left behind 180 barrels of human waste; one wonders how they could accumulate that much shit; the pair fled to Guatemala, farms cocoa plants and lives on a diet of bananas. A woman called Meghan, makes it clear that she is also a Sussex, whatever that means, has a podcast, and tells us she is thrilled with her success interviewing other privileged women. We are pleased to read these inanities and think if the 180 barrels of crap have sprung a leakage
The local news is, a Ukrainian who fled when the Russian army came knocking on...
A trendy couple fled a tourist resort and left behind 180 barrels of human waste; one wonders how they could accumulate that much shit; the pair fled to Guatemala, farms cocoa plants and lives on a diet of bananas. A woman called Meghan, makes it clear that she is also a Sussex, whatever that means, has a podcast, and tells us she is thrilled with her success interviewing other privileged women. We are pleased to read these inanities and think if the 180 barrels of crap have sprung a leakage
The local news is, a Ukrainian who fled when the Russian army came knocking on...
#aliens
#angels
#devil
#ghosts
#witches
53 reads
0 Comments
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