Phantom Poems - Poems about Phantom

[Contest : What happened After Sponsor : Nette Onclaud date : 21/7/25] 7 lines /7syllables ______________ she was touched by a phantom becoming a phantom too both boarded coral carriage wheels grate cobble streets in mist opera seats were waiting then to swirl on dancing floor she relished escaping hours ...

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(Verse 1) This empty room still hums your favorite song, Sunlight cuts the dust where your laugh belonged. I trace the cracks in every worn-out tile, Searching for your shadow one more mile. (Chorus) **I can still feel you like a phantom limb—** A ghost in every room,...

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Each night I call your name— and the floorboards creak their answer, settling into the weight of waiting. Your laughter breaks the silence like warm light spilling through my chest, where my ribs cage only echoes. In your gaze, dust motes pause mid-fall, suspended in the shaft of afternoon— then spiral again, small galaxies collapsing into light. You are the hand that steadies the trembling cup, the...

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There once was a phantom phone caller Who rang numbers he hadn't oughta Some fell for his charms Some raised the alarm Now the caller finds he's in deep water. One day he rang someone that he knew Thinking that they hadn’t got a clue They knew who he was Sent for the police squad He got locked up as idiots do. Worse...

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I am overcome with a sense of dread, when hearing talk of that leg injury. It becomes an atrocious time machine throwing me viciously on to my couch. Will it ever feel like normal again? I wish I could just flush bad memories. My mind is now flooded with memories and I am vibrating with rhythmic dread. I’m...

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I breath warmly in doors and breath coldly outside. When the winters turn to spring I need to be outside there they are to my every concern my evasiveness is a lesson know one wants to learn Vampious Tickiolitious ________________________ act: To draw attention or interest. Intrigue: To arouse curiosity or interest. It was meant inform but due to the beauty of the people involved it turned to nd...

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They see my outline, never my core A silhouette against their expectations. Their whispers trail behind me like shadows, Interpretations I never authorized. I speak in colors they refuse to see, My words are distorted through their clouded lens. When I reach out, they flinch from phantom claws, Reading threats into my outstretched hands. I am tired of this constant translation, Of shrinking myself...

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Amidst the ebon of my lonely room I feel a covert brush across my face. The phantom from my dreams disrupts the gloom, which terminates despair's profound embrace. Her mystic coffee eyes entrance my soul as freedom's blanket warms my frigid heart. This charmer's stitch has sealed seclusion's hole, now dammed, the flow of somber tears will part. My trusting fingers grasp her...

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I've never, ever seen my dog, 'Cause he does not exist. I try to explain this fact to him, But the truth he does resist. He says to me, "I have no bowl." I say, "You do not eat." He says, "We never go for walks." I say, "You have no feet." But he insists, "I bark all day." I say,...

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Written: April 09, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Daniel Henry Rodgers Quote: "Do not look back, no one knows how the world ever began. Do not fear the future, nothing lasts forever. If you dwell on the past or future, you will miss the moment." By Rumi ...

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the town of Jingbut had a ding that chimed and chimed did ring and ring and a mystery was this loudly thing for over air and garden came straight through house each room the same for where you were it did not wane an all around an everywhere incessant ringing to the ear an omnipresent far and near it was a witch as told by some whose voice aloud when she was hung a curse to all she...

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It starts gently—like a setting sun, a tingling drift uncoiling in my abdomen, tracing meticulous pathways through my frame. It slithers into my mind, a weight both foreign and familiar, a harbinger of past collapses, whispering peril in the language of ghosts. A whisper becomes a tremor, becomes a howl. The cold vacuum yawns wide, swallowing every lucid thought. The world outside disintegrates...

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Words are phantom neckties in and out of style they go From parsimony to paisley ignominious to indigo From wide to narrow ...

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Surely there is a phantom here As I jerk my head in sudden fear Praying for those I hold so dear Sensing movement that is very near If it happened just the one time I'd dismiss it as nickel-and-dime But more than once - has to be sublime And this happens in the daytime Birds on the feeder are not shaken And my senses...

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The phantom of the opera, once bitter and marose, living in torture chambers, almost comatose, has got a new publicist. Don't write his epitaph. Now, he's bright and cheerful, signing autographs....

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