The Other Side for M Lady Tara
Two little ghosts out walking at night
When one little Ghost cried out in fright
Oh Dear I think I see a man.
He’s over there I’m sure I can
The other ghost says you cannot do
there are no men they are not true
Just old Ghosts tales to frighten you
and if they were what could they do
There are no men there never was
I know that’s true because.
My old professor told me so
and he was clever he should know.
The whole idea amuses me
A living man you’ll never see
(Apr 04)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My uncle was born at the end of the Edo era and was a great authority on the various bizarre and gruesome legends that were so popular in those days: tales of haunted houses with rooms no one dared enter; tales of the souls of scorned women, still living, tormenting an unfaithful lover; tales of ghosts unable to relinquish an attachment to their former lives... Yet he took great pains to deny there was any truth to these legends, repeating the lesson of his samurai education that "a true warrior does not believe in ghosts."
Kido Okamoto in The Ghost of Ofumi (1930), translated by Ian MacDonald
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghosts
Three of the children are ghosts.
One is a terrible ghost.
One is a frightful ghost.
And the last one is a ghost.
Go away!
Children, go away!
For heaven's sake go somewhere else,
Or will you?
Ghosts do not reply.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghostly Plateau
Ghosts make across the plateau due to their skill at being wanderers of great precision. Their ghoulishness makes a point for those on the plateau, so snowy now that we have ghosts. Ghost after ghost made journeys too long ago, too far away are their destinations, forming pity and concern. These graves remove the ghosts’ laughter, for the death of a young person is like theirs.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Moonlake Ghosts
There’s a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn’t scared for he couldn’t
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don’t know if he’s lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don’t want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I’ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It’s not like eating at Denny’s
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There's a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn't scared for he couldn't
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don't know if he's lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don't want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I'ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It's not like eating at Denny's
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There’s a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn’t scared for he couldn’t
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don’t know if he’s lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don’t want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I’ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It’s not like eating at Denny’s
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.21,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Class Distinction
A quiet house where quiet ghosts
haunt quiet rooms but silently
The Ghosts respect their living hosts
and treat them most respectfully.
They can’t go back they won’t go on.
Confused by their predicament,
they wait until the daylights gone
before they show they are present.
They do not wish to cause alarm.
as common ghosts are wont to do.
All part of their well bred charm.
Though they are dead they hold the view
that no aristocratic ghost
should stoop to frightening their host.
26-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghosts
There are ghosts in the room.
As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there
They come out of the gloom,
And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair.
There's the ghost of a Hope
That lighted my days with a fanciful glow.
In her hand is the rope
That strangled her life out. Hope was slain long ago.
But her ghost comes to-night,
With its skeleton face and expressionless eyes,
And it stands in the light,
And mocks me, and jeers me with sobs and with sighs.
There's the ghost of a Joy,
A frail, fragile thing, and I prized it too much,
And the hands that destroy
Clasped it close, and it died at the withering touch.
There's the ghost of a Love,
Born with joy, reared with hope, died in pain and unrest,
But he towers above
All the others... this ghost: yet a ghost at the best.
I am weary, and fain
Would forget all these dead: but the gibbering host
Make my struggle in vain,
In each shadowy corner there lurketh a ghost.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Ghosts
Writers: leo sayer, les nicol & frank farrell
Ghosts
People that I left behind
Wondering lonely in the night
All in my memory
Dreams
Long forgotten flights of time
Flashbacks flooding through my mind
Of all the things you said to me
In the shadows where I walk
In the silence
The wind talks of you
Like a ghost
Haunting the night
So you wander through my life
Ghosts
People that I dont believe
Just what theyve got to do with me
Oh -- I cant see it
Ghosts
Long forgotten -- in time
Look at those flashbacks
Flooding through my mind
Of all the things youve said to me
In the shadows where I walk
In the silence
The wind talks of you
Just like a ghost
Haunting the night
You know you wander through my life
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can't Stop Lovin' You (Though I Try)
Leo Sayer, Les Nicol & Frank Farrell
ghosts
people that I left behind
wondering lonely in the night
all in my memory
dreams
long forgotten flights of time
flashbacks flooding through my mind
of all the things you said to me
in the shadows where I walk
in the silence
the wind talks of you
like a ghost
haunting the night
so you wander through my life
ghosts
people that I don't believe
just what they've got to do with me
oh -- I can't see it
ghosts
long forgotten -- in time
look at those flashbacks
flooding through my mind
of all the things you've said to me
in the shadows where I walk
in the silence
the wind talks of you
just like a ghost
haunting the night
you know you wander through my life
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost
I'm like a ghost
Flying in the night
Im in the darkness of light
Im a ghost or at least thats how I feel
Im like a zombie
Things have taken over.
Im like a ghost
Hovering over myself
Looking down at the mess
Labelled with my name
I see the mess below me
The mess is me
Im a ghost of my formal self
Im a ghost that floats above
Im a ghost of life
A ghost of my old self
Half the person I used to be
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Ghosts of the Deep
Ghosts of the deep,
How awkward you swim,
When attacks are made to fishes,
And they are finished by sea-men
Who sit on the sea, where the fish swim.
Ghosts of the deep,
Why does sinning happen
In the sea of tranquillity?
Where there is war and sharking,
War and death, for all of the sea.
Ghosts of the deep,
When does the ship see
The murder and the theft?
It is you - the massive ghost of the deep ocean
In the war of Pacific Ocean.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Graveyard Ghost
There was a graveyard by my house,
I saw a ghost while sleeping on the couch.
See I had just sprained my ankle,
and was upstairs,
I slept in the basement,
usually but my muscles I did tear.
So one night I woke up to see
what was hovering close to me.
A figure was at the foot of my bed,
it was a figure that I would soon dread,
Ghost whose body was long since dead.
I told him telepathically,
to get away and please do leave.
He put on the sweater that was at my feet,
I felt better and went back to sleep.
Now one month later I did see,
another figure outside by the tree.
He was waiting at the corner for a bus,
I thought was a human I did trust.
When I drove up to the corner
he had disappeared,
The bus was still coming,
it still wasn’t near.
Another ghost comes to see if I’m o.k,
that’s what my friend did say.
No harm from the ghosts across the street,
they keep to themselves unless you
were in pain like me.
Written on Feb.21,2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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A Spirit and a Ghost
Believe,
Why?
Believe its true,
Why?
Believe,
Why?
Believe in the truth,
The truth is a spirit,
A lie is a ghost,
Spirits protect you,
Ghosts haunt you,
Do you want an angel?
Or do you want a spoke?
poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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Graveyard Ghost
There was a graveyard by my house,
I saw a ghost while sleeping on the couch.
See I had just sprained my ankle,
and was upstairs,
I slept in the basement,
usually but my muscles I did tear.
So one night I woke up to see
what was hovering close to me.
A figure was at the foot of my bed,
it was a figure that I would soon dread,
Ghost whose body was long since dead.
I told him telepathically,
to get away and please do leave.
He put on the sweater that was at my feet,
I felt better and went back to sleep.
Now one month later I did see,
another figure outside by the tree.
He was waiting at the corner for a bus,
I thought was a human I did trust.
When I drove up to the corner
he had disappeared,
The bus was still coming,
it still wasn’t near.
Another ghost comes to see if I’m o.k,
that’s what my friend did say.
No harm from the ghosts across the street,
they keep to themselves unless you
were in pain like me.
Written on Feb.21,2011 by Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghost Train
Here they come to steal my soul
(Ghost train)
Wait it out until I know
(Ghost train)
Trying not to feel I give it
(Ghost train)
Moving up until I go go
(Ghost train)
She was not to hear about me leaving
(Ghost train)
Trying to be near my heart
(Ghost train)
Trying not to feel like bleeding
(Ghost train)
Moving up until I'm taught to your side
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
Got suicide for my baby
(Ghost train)
Living up until I wanted
(Ghost train)
Seeing like I'm out of bed, yeah
(Ghost train)
Moving up and taught I'm a weapon
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
I see myself pretend how to get there
(Ghost train)
Dripping down, I'm poisoned on the street
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Got suicide for my baby
(Ghost train)
Living up until I wanted
(Ghost train)
Seeing like I'm out of bed, yeah
(Ghost train)
Moving up and taught I'm a weapon
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
(Ghost train)
I see myself pretend how to get there
(Ghost train)
Dripping down, I'm poisoned on the street
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
Come on come on come on!
(Ghost train)
song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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