Crawl In And Out
Ghosts supply hatred to the body,
Just when they crawl in and out.
Having a heaven takes guts,
Death is the precursor, death is an objective,
We fry it and its wings in jelly.
Ghosts supply some form of hatred
Known to man as murder, and this I express
For the lies are too many, abundant thieves.
Gelatin sticks to the heart from where they germinate,
From where the ghosts germinate and grow,
Forming a new collision, so derived from play.
Crawl this way and that, so that some rivers
Begin their route and see the blood.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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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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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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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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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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Born As Ghosts
The hills find peace
Locked armed guard posts
Safe from the screams
Of the children born as ghosts
Gates guns and alarms
Shape the calm of the dawn
Peering down into the basin
Where death lives on
Where young run foaming at the mouth with hate
Where burning batons beat the freezing who shake
Under the toxic sunsets they dine and toast
Their walls deny the terror faced by the children
Born as ghosts
Born as ghosts
One book and forty ghosts
Stuffed in a room
The school as a tomb
Where home is a wasteland
Taste the razor wire
And thought is locked in the womb
The tales that shocks the lives off the screen
Born as ghosts
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
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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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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“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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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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My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts
Life seemed to come
To a still
Everything around me
Is like death
It is difficult moving
And going back is Impossible
These are my days in the bush
Of ghosts
Why do we have
To live in fear
When death is
Inevitable
The fear for failure
Took away my
Pride and I must
Do anything to
Achieve height
Many a time I dream
And find myself in
The bush of ghosts
With my loved ones,
Hands outstretched
For a warm welcome
Of my embrace
But then I awoke,
And finds my life is
Just an illusion of
My years past.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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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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Love and Hatred
Love is not so heavy as hatred,
Love is gentle and soothing,
While hatred is rude and disturbing,
Love is an attribute of God,
While hatred is the quality of devil,
Love makes,
Hatred mars,
Love teaches how to live,
Hatred is tired of life,
Love is soft as gentle rain,
Hatred is hard as drought,
Love is deep like an ocean,
Hatred is shallow without commotion,
Love makes sacrifice,
Hatred escapes sacrifice,
Love is everlasting,
Hatred is transcient,
Love releases fragrance,
While hatred stinks,
Love relies on heart,
Hatred relies on mind,
Love loses,
Hatred gains,
In a nutshell,
Love is life,
Hatred is death,
So let's spread love.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Definition of Pain
Life so precious yet so easily taken away
happiness what everyone wants yet there filled with pain
People causing pain to others for their amusement
Which causes hatred from their victims in turn it creates their murder
What has life come to hatred, anger, pain, death instead of happiness, joy, love, life
how can I live with life
for if i'm happy others will give me pain
if i'm in pain others will fill me with hatred
which will have me taking their so precious lives
So how can I feel happiness once again
when in order to do so I have to create all those things I despise
So doesn't a victim create their own murder in turn creates the death of the murder
if all of this is true isn't life a cycle of happiness to pain then unto death.
poem by Requiem Night
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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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Ghosts And Modernity
Ghosts & Modernity
The old house has been modernised the hallway, where
ghosts spooked, is now a bathroom, and since there is no
entrance one has to exit through the kitchen window on
a ladder on the wall, this is called saving space, a modern
and fun way to live. The ghosts have gone, no dark corners
and no children with imagination to see what practical
adults are blind to. Closing my eyes I can see children and
ghosts, but not as clearly as before, the kaleidoscope has
gone fuzzy with the distance and it saddens me too that
I’m the only one left to remember a draughty hallway and
the warm glow of true fairytales sprung from the mind of
the very young.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Hate And Dislike
Hate and dislike are not the same thing between them the difference is great
We well may not like everybody but our dislike should not give way to hate
For hatred leads people to bad crimes since hatred as a feeling is very intense
The feeling of hatred is noxious and is poison to common sense.
Some commit murder due to hatred and than murder there is no worse a crime
Their hatred has landed them in prison for to serve a lengthy span of jail time
Their life it is ruined forever and darkness envelopes their soul
Suppose that is what's bound to happen when hatred is out of control.
Hate and dislike are two different creatures and though dislike to hatred can grow
Hate in it has got far more venom those who hate mercy will not show
Whilst those who dislike you may not harm you at least not in a physical way
And if you asked me to choose between them I would choose dislike any day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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