Ghost Poems - Poems about Ghost

The trash bag at my door—gone, someone took it. In the shared hall, I see a ghost from years ago. A glance, three short lines, one long breath— We look at each other like catching, releasing ghosts. Do we both think the other’s faking it? The line between man and phantom is only light. A few ghost-words, truth-words—thank you— Thanks to her,...

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Horrible Horrible Ghost Story She Only Loved Dancing Music But Didn't Have Meat. -Gray Squirrel 05-17-2025...

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The world got caught under her breath They could never hear her precious mumbling, only realized when she left One second she was there One second she was floating in timeless air In a wisp of whimsical space She would show her elegant face A polaroid of a perfect smile Commanding regretful tears and remembrance of all the distant years Her blood was...

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THIRD EYE SPEAKING (Poet’s Note : I’ve uploaded first verse of this little poem on YouTube channel as a short, if you’d like to listen to a read, be welcome : @ghairodanielspresence) I see past present future fluff in a ball of bluff a ghost down the road dressed as Victorian toad speaks through an IPhone on cue about...

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The wind doesn’t howl here-- it warns. Each breath drawn is borrowed from the bones beneath. They told me to fear the shadow, but never the silence that follows. I walk where others knelt, blade dulled, spirit frayed, still searching for the summit that keeps shifting skyward. I do not ask for light-- only the strength to keep walking where ghosts refuse to rest....

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Another drag... inhale, exhale, inhale, lungs fill with toxic smoke another sip... fire glides down her aching throat another croaking whisper to the one beside, although aloof and remote. She laughs in the face of sorrow, trying in vain to hide behind her eyes the sound is an open coffin, a high hysterical plea filled cry I imagine she has...

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Horror-stricken and struggling in pools of cold sweat… ghost of Frankenstein ...

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embraced by a ghost scent of hair I recognize like time never passed...

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Twenty years elapsed since Harriet Harris, née Kuritsky gave up the ghost ~ May 5th, 2004 Often these days the following genuine sentiment Matthew Scott Harris doth wish to share one son, cuz twenty years after mother succumbed courtesy of terminal illness that ravaged her body. I still reckon how yours truly shrugged off proffering tender loving care within whose womb, this sole prodigal son wannabe born, thus...

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I met him when I was twelve years old. He was like a shadow with no name. He slipped inside my body, And my fear acted like his throne. When I'm alone, He wraps his fingers around my throat, Gradually fastening them, Asking me to finish the game he started. Through every sleepless night, He whispers in my ears: "I won't leave you. Not now,...

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He made them in a hurry, He made them in the night. He had other things on His mind, and forgot to paint them white. A woman planned to fix this error - she was a woman of notoriety. She saw the problems that this mistake had caused in society. She beckoned to her female counterparts, to help her...

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It’s hubris, I suppose, down in my soul, To think the ends will justify all means. And thinking that all rules are drab and dull I end up being blown to smithereens. But truly I know what is for the best! Thus, whispers little demons in my ears. Consider it a type of sacred quest And follow your own heart and not...

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The morning was dark and misty venturing out before the throng weaving between oak and elder the path I took was long I stumbled on a clearing and fell down upon my knees it was there I started digging through discarded wood and leaves burrowing through the top soil breaking deeper in the dirt my fingers and palms wore earth stains nails had worked to earn...

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The carousel moans to the empty dusk, rusted music haunts brittle air, the laughter has decayed....

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I miss you. Maybe I should tell you. Maybe I should tear through the distance with something as simple, as foolish, as a “hey, you crossed my mind.” But what if you see my name and feel tired? What if my hello feels like a burden you forgot to put down? What if I am the ache you no longer want to revisit? I...

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