Ghosts Poems

ghosts linger : footle

        fallen lash

                           
                  

ghosts in my walls

“do it”
“ no one would notice”
“it’s just a scratch”
“ your overacting”
“superficial”
whispers, mumbles 
when i’m alone
they never leave
never will
so i will not sleep
never, never will
when i can hear the ghosts in my walls.

no such thing as ghosts until

no such thing as ghosts
until you meet one yourself
a blood chilling scream

MEMORIES AND GHOSTS

MEMORIES AND GHOSTS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Memories flicker like fireflies,*
each one a tiny spark,
lighting the shadows of my mind—
the laughter of family,
the warmth of a lover’s embrace,
the bittersweet taste of farewells.

They hover just beyond reach,
fading like a ghost, 
yet vivid, like the last notes of a song
lingering in the air.

*Note: The phrase 'memories flicker like fireflies' is a common

Longing To Hear Their Ghosts

I'll deafen my ears before everyone else disappears,
So I can have the most quietest peace of mind that hears their ghosts.
What would I give then for others to be their living hosts?

Halloween

In the moonlight almost midnight
clearly witching hour is nearly here
time for ghosts gremlins goblins ghouls
beware the phantoms but have no fear
don't take candies or sweets
from strangers you will meet
as there be scary zombies
out there on the streets
and if you don't believe
then when trick or treating
ask and ye shall receive
for tonight is All Hallows' Eve

0800 222 9911

Have you ever been
haunted (no you have not)
by a ghost from the future not even born yet
in your paper thin realm
trolled from a time post human extinction
it could only happen to you so-called
dead in your grave still tossing and turning
& scratching like a deviant
moldering and unquiet one hundred years now
and the whispers yes whispers from
the

Ghosts Of Us

Gone in sight and sound,
But drift in silence, lost in space.
Old laughs now echo, thin and cold,
In rooms where warmth forgot to hold.

We were a fire, bold and bright
Now just ashes in the night.
I reach, but memory won’t stay near,
Just ghosts that whisper, “you were here".

A night at a graveyard

A gossamer hung on the graveyard's gate.
A spider clung to steel, consuming its meal.
It had no need to know dinner was served late,
Nor sensed ghostly keels the summer winds conceal.

The owls flew on, unperturbed by midnight's scare,
That made dead men howl silently in each grave,
Fresh ghosts were blown toward the gate in despair,
The gate creaked

Gate to our Eternity

"Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity."

--Khalil Gibran

She returns here every May sixteenth,
the day she was to marry. 
I saw her GHOSTLY visage there
at the GATES of the cemetery.

I went,  as I've done everyday,
to lay flowers upon her GRAVE. 
I, the GRIEF-STRICKEN groom
just striving to be brave.

Just as the

Ghosts of Havana: A Letter from the Other Side

I speak now, not with breath,
But through the bones of history,
Through palms that never bore fruit
Because your embargo starved the soil.

You feared not our weapons—
We had none to match your bombs.
You feared our ideas,
Because they burned too brightly in the dark.

Sixty-two winters and summers,
My people have walked in chains—
Not of iron,
But of isolation, hunger, and

Ghosts Are Real But You Are Not

Ghosts Are Real But You Are Not

You Are Just A
Bio-Mechanism;
A Complex Sensor
Array, With
Repetitive Event
Synthesis Storage
Media And Goofy
Logic Circuits.

And Your Intelligence?

YOUR Intelligence
Is Wayyyy More
Artificial Than
Anything Imaginable!!!!

You Ain't Even A
Competent 
Puppet! 

What Else Could
You Be?

Please.

The Little Piece 
Of Ghost
In You Only
Matters.

Oh.

AND The Rest Of It.

-Gray Squirrel

06-22-2025

The House

The white shades pulled to half mast, 
like sleepy eyes…
Peeking

Rain from the gutters rushing fast, 
Seems to be…
Weeping

Doors locked, none shall pass, 
All your secrets…
  Keeping

A revelation at last, 
 buried bones that were…
Sleeping

A light flickers on,  a gasp,
Starts your heart…
Beating

The souls you've amassed,
 ghosts through rooms…
Creeping

ghosts

Ghosts. 

I knew of a man who believed in ghosts 
but he didn’t believe in resurrection, 
he believed in dying as an end of all activity 
that was conscious. 
But he thought that some people left their mark 
on things they had cherished, bend the wood to his will 
when stroking his fingers on the table to make it polished, 
he leaves behind

Rainbow in the dark

 Inspired by Ronnie James Dio song 
"Rainbow in the dark".
............................................
Again, shadows dance tonight—
    this time, a grim tear swims down my cheek
        as the light became less dim when the
            thunder struck—
the cold scolds my hold, and I lost my grip,
reminding me I am free, like the lightning.

But morning light fades into the dark;
    the night has totally

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