If you go out a lot at night, you will probably meet ghosts.
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Haunted
THE house is haunted; when the little feet
Go pattering about it in their play,
I tremble lest the little one should meet
The ghosts that haunt the happy night and day.
And yet I think they only come to me;
They come through night of ease and pleasant day
To whisper of the torment that must be
If I some day should be, alas! as they.
And when the child is lying warm asleep,
The ghosts draw back the curtain of my bed,
And past them through the dreadful dark I creep,
Clasp close the child, and so am comforted.
Cling close, cling close, my darling, my delight,
Sad voices on the wind come thin and wild,
Ghosts of poor mothers crying in the night--
'Father, have pity--once I had a child!'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Ghosts
Some ghosts are women,
neither abstract nor pale,
their breasts as limp as killed fish.
Not witches, but ghosts
who come, moving their useless arms
like forsaken servants.
Not all ghosts are women,
I have seen others;
fat, white-bellied men,
wearing their genitals like old rags.
Not devils, but ghosts.
This one thumps barefoot, lurching
above my bed.
But that isn't all.
Some ghosts are children.
Not angels, but ghosts;
curling like pink tea cups
on any pillow, or kicking,
showing their innocent bottoms, wailing
for Lucifer.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Los Reyes Catolicos
When time is like a needle
And night is the longest day
A home is a cathedral
A place where a king can pray
Ghosts all gone
Ghosts all gone
To another plane
Los Reyes Catolicos
Los Reyes Catolicos
Los Reyes Catolicos
Los Reyes Catolicos
Ghosts all gone
Ghosts all gone
To another plane
Los Reyes Catolicos
Los Reyes Catolicos
A home is like a castle
A place where a king can reign
Los Reyes Catolicos
Raoul and The Kings of Spain
Ghosts all gone
Ghosts all gone
Ghosts all gone
To another plane
song performed by by Tears For Fears from Raoul & The Kings Of Spain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterdays Ghosts
Everywhere I go;
there are the ghosts of yesterday.
They inhabit everything we see.
Their presence is felt
within every step we take.
The ghosts of yesterday
watch over us.
We may not be able to see them,
but we at times we know they are there.
Who are these ghosts of yesterday,
friends, relations, acquaintances
we met along the way.
I do not know the answer
and it is not for me to say.
All I know is they are there,
the ghosts of yesterday
19-20 October 2008
poem by David Harris
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Obtained By Ghosts
Ghosts obtain justice from us,
As we are near extinction.
Ghosts monitored our moves
Like houses of parliament.
Their revelry is unjustified
As far as lieutenancy.
I marry those ghosts meaningfully
To images of past poltergeists.
I have conquered burgers and chips
With a few of them.
They sedate me, cast a crate of food
On the floor in malpractice -
Professional or educational?
Both of these men are ghosts
And I am teased, when I am haunted.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Ghosts
The ghosts of not repentant souls
Wander in the quiet woods night.
Only chilling cries of the owls
Cause the lightest fright.
Flying Dutchman frightens seamen,
Its sight is a portent of doom.
It was told by John Leyden
Sinful souls went to gloom.
Ghosts dwell in the hills.
Climbers know a ghost can kill.
To some they help to cross the river,
But seeing them you would shiver.
Haunting cities, haunting countries…
Are they humans eye illusion?
Are they really verities?
It looks they come to make pollution.
Ghosts are here, ghosts are there!
It seems they are everywhere.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of August,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Overkill
I cant get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications
Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perahaps its just my imagination
Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
Its time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation
At least theres pretty lights
And though theres little variation
It nullifies the night
From overkill
Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
I cant get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications
Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Its just overkill
Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Glee -- The Ghosts
In life three ghostly friars were we,
And now three friarly ghosts we be.
Around our shadowy table placed,
The spectral bowl before us floats:
With wine that none but ghosts can taste,
We wash our unsubstantial throats.
Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--
three merry ghosts are we:
Let the ocean be Port, and we'll think it good sport
To be laid in that Red Sea.
With songs that jovial spectres chaunt,
Our old refectory still we haunt.
The traveller hears our midnight mirth:
"O list!" he cries, "the haunted choir!
"The merriest ghost that walks the earth, "
"Is sure the ghost of a ghostly friar."
Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--
three merry ghosts are we:
Let the ocean be Port, and we'll think it good sport
To be laid in that Red Sea.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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The Ghost Of The New World
'_There are no ghosts in America._'
There are no ghosts, you say,
To haunt her blaze of light;
No shadows in her day,
No phantoms in her night.
Columbus' tattered sail
Has passed beyond our hail.
What? On that magic coast,
Where Raleigh fought with fate,
Or where that Devon ghost
Unbarred the Golden Gate,
No dark, strange, ear-ringed men
Beat in from sea again?
No ghosts in Salem town
With silver buckled shoon?
No lovely witch to drown
Or burn beneath the moon?
Not even a whiff of tea,
On Boston's glimmering quay.
O, ghostly Spanish walls,
Where brown Franciscans glide,
Is there no voice that calls
Across the Great Divide,
To pilgrims on their way
Along the Santa Fe?
Then let your Pullman cars
Go roaring to the West,
Till, watched by lonelier stars,
The cactus lifts its crest.
There, on that painted plain,
One ghost will rise again.
Majestic and forlorn,
Wreck of a dying race,
The Red Man, half in scorn,
Shall raise his haughty face,
Inscrutable as the sky,
To watch our ghosts go by.
What? Is earth dreaming still?
Shall not the night disgorge
The ghosts of Bunker Hill
The ghosts of Valley Forge,
Or, England's mightiest son,
The ghost of Washington?
No ghosts where Lincoln fell?
No ghosts for seeing eyes?
I know an old cracked bell
Shall make ten million rise
When one immortal ghost
Calls to the slumbering host.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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Unicorns
Are you uneasy about the many ghosts in the palace of fright?
The feathers in my head and body,
When the ghosts commence, and the air
Is sweeter and sweeter,
The real manners are hidden, the men are held to the end,
Only the spirit world;
He is understood as a spirit, and a genie is too much of beauty
To wish from.
I can not make my desire:
Ghosts are not read in the book world,
Hold on to the reins of the unicorns that were those ghosts.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Ghosts Of Our Past
Ghosts Of Our Past
We are haunted all the time
by ghosts of our past
for things we did long ago.
They remind us often
of the mistakes we made
and cannot amend.
These ghosts can come to us
at almost anytime
and we always refer to them
as our memories.
3 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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Pleasantries
When you meet one
You must greet
Saying good morning.
When you part
You must treat
Saying good night.
In between, you say
“How do you do? ’
The words are lifeless.
You use them heartless.
The listener knows it.
If you don’t use
The listener is hurt.
Pleasantries are ghosts
Offending in their absence.
17.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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“Ghosts are for the telling”
Ghosts are for the telling,
We call them experts and impressive,
As more of them appear from the woods.
Ghosts have understood us for the rules,
So that mastering is a problem and real;
Our mothers want us to comply and so they result.
Each ghost is great in beauty,
Full of foolish whims and ideas,
Their wish is to comprehend us, even to master us.
A little ghost is no liar, but one of them,
And that degree is hidden,
For we strive to alienate it as much as we can.
The baby is asleep, the ghosts do weep,
And I am fast away in slumber;
Much are ghosts to do the enormous chatter before they die.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Father's Soul
father's soul comes again
i am cold
to his hug, this sickness
of ghosts
embracing us, the living,
questions and images
mixing on a night
of horror,
always, the question is:
what for, dad? what for?
leave us, we know how to
live our lives,
stay in the land of the dead
and be rested,
for now is our time to confront
our own ghosts,
equipped by your quotes
we think we know the routes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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(Do You Get) Excited
When the day gets dark
Over a thousand streets
And you feel your heart
Is a living beat
When you're all alone
And you close your eyes
Naked to the bone
The dream comes alive
Do you get excited
When I touch you in the night?
My oh my...
Do you get excited
When I meet you every night?
You won't let the night pass you by
When your body's hot
The window's open wide
This moment's all you got
In this race of life
When you feel the fire
Is getting close to you
Hey baby, you know
I'm lonely too
Do you get excited
When I touch you in the night?
My oh my...
Do you get excited
When I meet you every night?
You won't let the night pass you by
Do you get excited
When I touch you in the night?
My oh my...
Do you get excited
When I meet you every night?
You won't let the night pass you by
I wanna know
I gotta know
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Excited?
When the day gets dark
Over a thousand streets
And you feel your heart
Is a living beat
When you're all alone
And you close your eyes
Naked to the bone
The dream comes alive
Do you get excited
When I touch you in the night?
My oh my...
Do you get excited
When I meet you every night?
You won't let the night pass you by
When your body's hot
The window's open wide
This moment's all you got
In this race of life
When you feel the fire
Is getting close to you
Hey baby, you know
Im lonely too
Do you get excited
When I touch you in the night?
My oh my...
Do you get excited
When I meet you every night?
You won't let the night pass you by
Do you get excited
When I touch you in the night?
My oh my...
Do you get excited
When I meet you every night?
You won't let the night pass you by
I wanna know
I gotta know
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghosts Of Time
Many of the ghosts through time
whose presence we can't see
are looking at us sadly
and wishing we were free.
They understand the pressures
that life has brought our way.
They pray for us and can remember
the scenes that were their play.
Their shadows pass amongst us
through stories all retold
by the living forms still moving
among the earth's threshold.
The time that passes for us
while we are here on earth
is non-existent elsewhere
but returns again at birth.
The ghosts of time are fearful
that we will meet a fate
and join them much too early
from bombs we detonate.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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After Pulling Down And Rebuilding A House
OLD Ghosts, ye all are dispossess'd,
Your former house is levell'd now;
Another house at my behest
Has lifted over yours, its brow.
But flit, old Ghosts, and live with me;
As yet we are but living hosts;
But watch the new house patiently,
You soon shall have companion Ghosts.
poem by Carolyn Clive
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Ghost Souls
Pale ghosts against dark walls,
figures thirsting for freedom
Loveless styles force quick arrival,
one way doors heavy their souls.
Ghosts possess souls,
though dark walls do conceal.
Freedom is there
souls all cannot hear
Dimensioned freedom
exists for ghosts who thirst.
Have not these ghosts discovered
contrasting love within infinite darkness?
poem by Elizabeth Wiles
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Ghostly House
You need language of ghosts
To communicate with spirits that impose on us.
You crave for the very food our ghosts need.
Come with the religion of yours to distract them.
For it pray and they will go away, for all eternity!
Your House is Haunted. Be so wary!
Even call the police, and they will never enter your home.
Your House is Haunted. It needs some policy to rid it of evil and despair.
You House needs some care. It requires the life to adjust. You must.
If ghosts are about then leave the house and complain.
Nobody listens except the Priest, and he is not around.
Go to the doctor, and feel doom in abundance. The ghosts do not win.
Good Luck!
poem by Naveed Akram
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