A superluminal orb, like frightful ghosts interred, have met this bead halfway and lighting struck the hearth, for another better dance, keening deerish prance, the mute mother said strung about them were dolls which pearls know are afowl and created another cart of food pulled by oxen run-to-mill that pulled the bead to start.
Darkness
Prevails as lights
go off, on a cold night
But for the ghostly gleaming glare -
Black cat
Copyright © 2026 by Crystal David John
Spacemeat. The light cone enfolds the individual effectually creating a ghost through geometric topology. The negative of the person, the "ghost" is a result of the lensing of the original person's light cone interacting with a tertiary lightcone that predicates it's future on the subsequent intermingling of the light cones. The result is essentially apodictic insofar as the consequential nature of the topological result is the determinant by which the conclusion from the incipient portion of the status aforementioned is solidified. Spacemeat.
There in the corner of my room
I feel a strong sense of doom
With all lights out, the room is dark
My dog begins to bark!
Yet, I see a blinking light
Of a ghostly apparition in the night!
Clunk…Clunk…is the sound I hear
As the ghostly-being draws awfully near
The scent of the dead is somewhat odd
I spot its evil grin a I scramble for my rod!
It knows I see it and knows I’m there
Life flashes before me as I horridly stare
Right in the face of this ghostly-being
I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing!
Fear leaves its dreadful taste in my mouth and tongue
I can’t help but scream to the top of my lungs!
But, to my surprise
It winks and replies:
“Shhh! Not so loud, living corpse!
You’re going to go hoarse!
Just let me touch your mobile phone
You know, E.T. has to go phone home!”
a glimmer
a glimpse
a gloaming glance
a flash
a fleck
a fleeting flicker
ghost?
goblin?
ghoul?
We may never know
Ghostly Pink and her little dog Tutu
were at the Parisian Café at six after two
They were dressed to the nines which they often do
Rude people walked by asking them for a boo
Ghostly Pink did not give them any attention or reply
But they got a growl if they caught little Tutu’s eye
He does not like to perform for just any old guy.
He preferred people who ignored them as they walked by.
ghostly Malvern Manor
haunting southwestern Iowa
growling in her attic
harsh warnings to psychic visitors
no bodily harm yet that I know of
definite psychological warfare
a few have run out screaming
others notice nothing at all
resolved to ignore the possibility of ghosts
All seems peaceful on a normal day, cheerfulness is no disarray;
friendly neighbors greet us with a warm good morning,
we wave and smile back, wishing them well and speed away:
slow was the life of yesterday, many happy tunes to sing!
The only person in the house is Emma sewing a dress for Jenny,
she had promised it for her birthday, two locked lips on her part....
secrets are kept to oneself, it's surprises that excite and delight;
a Colbert dress that matches her eyes can make her look pretty!
Why is the house quite, the hushing wind brushes her silver hair;
granny is crocheting a blanket for her couch, the other her chair,
" Everything gets old including me, " It's her resounding lament,
" Winter comes for all, it's a sad season so ghostly and so silent! "
Terrified innocents, departing indigenous lands
afraid to end with a sad ullagone…
merchandised as cargo.
Once money changes hands…all hope is gone.
They are herded into dinghies on an empty shore
united through a desire, a longing,
dreaming of peace, education and love.
On board each one clings anxiously to ice cold hands
elderly faces stare blankly. Children ululate
Silently one by one they fall overboard
bodies thrash as the cold invades their bones
until silence is the only sound in darkness
Once proud inhabitants, bound in dreams of
a better life away from impoverishment
To end life as ghostly apparitions…
Ghosts
Garbed in ghostly attires
Glistening like a star
Grimacing like an ape
Gurgling like a black owl
Gathered on public square
Gesturing like actors
Giving a fearful show.
Ghosts at one time scared me
However, I then grew
Only to find people
Strictly the ones I knew
Thinking thoughts unbridled
lost in Neverland--true
Yield fear like ghosts that flew
Grown up gaunt and ghostly?
Forlorn, forgotten, few.
Holy is the host? Well, see...
Day of wrath, thy dew.
Warlord, hold the highest ground?
Strongest in the sound!
Giant, issue from thy mound!
Blight them with thy bound!
Tyrant of the battlefield?
Come back on thy shield?
Only if the wound's unhealed!
Thunder, how you pealed!
Mercy? Full the harvest moon!
Tympani, thy tune!
Rampart castle, cast the rune!
Bane, bone, bind the boon!
Epic end to story?
O human race, take heed:
Morning, hast thou glory?
Prisoner doomed, just plead...
Bad? Give over what you had?
Storm gods, send thy cloud!
Make the devil mighty glad!
Burial, thy shroud...
Beneath the veil of fading light,
A silent shape slips out of sight.
No words to bind, no flames to burn—
Just shadows folding, slow to turn.
A secret drift on whispered air,
Gone like mist, yet always there.
Farewell, but not the end of trace—
A ghostly dance in time and space.
Though darkness falls to steal the day,
Your memory will light the way.
In quiet echoes, soft and deep,
Your presence lingers while I sleep.
So part we must, but not in vain—
For love’s soft whisper will remain.
The lighthouse hums beneath a ghostly sky,
fog bruises the restless sea's breath,
no ships will come tonight.
In shadows deep, a ghostly heart yearns,
For love unspoken, felt but never seen.
A mortal soul, unaware of the burn,
In dreams they wander, where the spirit's keen.
Through whispered winds, the ghost's soft love will turn,
A gentle touch, a presence felt between.
Though eyes are blind to what the heart can know,
In silent nights, their bond begins to grow.
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