Poems About Ghosts Published by Members Recently Online
#ghosts
NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
Poem Published
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
ATARI'S BEST GAME ERA
Pacman ghost galore...
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
#anger
#animals
#funny #ghosts
#funny #ghosts
552 reads
7 Comments
NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
Poem Published
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
ATARI'S BEST GAME ERA
Pacman ghost galore...
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
#anger
#animals
#funny #ghosts
#funny #ghosts
552 reads
7 Comments
NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
Poem Published
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
ATARI'S BEST GAME ERA
Pacman ghost galore...
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
#anger
#animals
#funny #ghosts
#funny #ghosts
552 reads
7 Comments
NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
Poem Published
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
1st Feb 2020 8:29am
ATARI'S BEST GAME ERA
Pacman ghost galore...
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
Donkey Kong ROAR!!!
#anger
#animals
#funny #ghosts
#funny #ghosts
552 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
73 reads
0 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
73 reads
0 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
73 reads
0 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
73 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
92 reads
4 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
92 reads
4 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
92 reads
4 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
92 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Ghosts Published by Members Recently Online
