Raymond's Ghost Poetry Page

[Ghostwriter1983]

To all who click on this thread, greetings and happy Halloween to you.

This thread will contain my collection of Ghost Poetry that I've written but rarely shared. I hope what you read now and then will be enjoyed.

Raymond


Who Is Buried Under My House?

I bought the 1960's brick house at
auction for $37,000.00, a fixer upper
I knew little about the old house other
then it needed a lot of repairs

As a carpenter, I love to use my hands
transforming old...into new
When I did my first walk through of the
house, I walked slowly as I wrote

I made a list, room by room of what I
felt was in need of improvement
That was when I opened the pantry door
in the kitchen and noticed the blood stain

The stain bothered me so bad that day
that I went to the store for supplies
I bought the best sponge, towels and
solvents and used a lot of elbow grease

The very next day, when I returned with
a load of lumber, I opened the door
There to my surprise, was the same dark
blood stain that I had scrubbed away

This time when I entered the pantry, the
hair on the back of my neck stood up
There was coldness in this room and I
had the feeling I wasn't alone

Suddenly, something pushed me out the
doorway so hard, I fell down
I was dazed for a moment, and as I looked
at the pantry, the door slammed shut!

I was shaking, not from being hurt, but from
realizing something supernatural was here
Some sort of ghost or spirit was here and I
could sense it wasn't friendly

Then, I looked up at the ceiling because unseen
hands had turned on the kitchen light
Next, came the sound of running water as the
faucet handles moved by themselves

Suddenly, I jumped, when I heard three hard taps
on the floor, coming from under the house
I knew there wasn't a basement, but I remember
I read something about a root cellar

The rapping persisted, the raps at a time and they
grew louder and louder, as I got to my feet
Once outside I circled the house until I found the
root cellar door, almost completely buried

Why would someone bury the root cellar door?
Was it to keep people from going inside?
Or, was it buried in an effort to keep something
from getting out of the root cellar?

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

Written On A 1889 Headstone!

In Stull Cemetery, in Kansas City
the devil's child sleeps
During both the summer and autumn
equinoxes, evil is awakened

Head the warnings written on this grave
for only a fool enters at night
The child can take many forms but most
often it is the shape of the werewolf

Many have died, and are buried here too
and such was their own demise
Make it not yours, this night, or any night
lest you enter as a Satanist

It is said by many that this cemetery is
really the gateway to hell itself
Be not deceived by the shape the demon
takes if you trespass at night

There is no defense to protect you if you
see the devil's child, not even a cross
You are standing on hell's sacred ground
and the foolish will die quickly

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

While I Slept!

I had only spent two nights in my
new apartment, but I knew
I knew something eerie was going
on and it scared me

Things would fall and break when I
was not in a room
When asleep, sometimes something
would pull my covers off

There were sounds that I could not
find where they came from
Goose bumps and fear written on
my face wondering what's next?

I never told the manager, nor any
of my neighbor's, not a soul
Who'd believe me if I said I had a
ghost haunting my apartment?

On this night, I set up my video
camera and stayed awake
I stayed awake as long as I could
then turned it on

I turned off the light and closed
my eyes and went to sleep
Nothing unusual happened, or
if it did, I did not know

When morning came, I rewound
VCR tape and pushed play
By mid way, nothing was seen on
the tape, I was discouraged

Suddenly, something was near the
corner of my bed, watching me
I rewound it time and again and
each time I felt goose bumps

A ghostly shape of a person was
floating in the air watching me
It just stared at me as I slept and
I knew I was moving out today

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

When I Came Home!

As I toured the old cabin
the realtor looked nervous
I couldn't put my finger on
it, but something was wrong

Sure the deposit and rent
I could handle... but
He was holding something
back and his eyes roamed

But I shrugged it off as I
envisioned my easel
My paints and brushes near
the window as I gaze out

The view was spectacular of
the ocean and light house
Of container ships as they
made their way up the coast

Yes, this is where I wanted
to create my paintings
A serene, peaceful place I
knew every artist wanted

That day I unpacked and went
to town for food and supplies
I didn't plan on going to town
that often so I made a list

When I returned and opened the
door, I was devastated
The cabin looked ransacked as
if someone had been searching

Everything was rummaged thru
yet, nothing was missing
I couldn't believe this could be
happening, I had just moved in

It was then that my jaw dropped
open for on my easel I saw
A ghostly painting of a woman
peering out of the darkness

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Spirit In The Playground!

From a distance I saw the bear
moving, walking on hind legs
Its head turning around as if it
were alive, not stuffed

This couldn’t be real I thought
it must be remote controlled
A silly prank by someone to see
if I was that gullible

But as I approached closer the bear
suddenly fell to the ground
I saw no one in the vicinity and I
picked up the bear and squeezed

Hoping to find a battery pack, some
sort of device for it to operate
But to my shock, the bear was soft
every inch from head to toe

I left the bear where it was and when
I returned I set up my video camera
I waited all day to try to catch the bear
moving, but it never moved again

As the sun began to set I turned off my
camera knowing it was too dark
Suddenly, a small child about four
appeared next to the stuffed animal

She had a soft glow surrounding her
as she kneeled and picked up her bear
She smiled with such innocence as she
waved her small hand and vanished!

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Smallest Spirit!

As I headed down the street
and turned the corner
My headlights shone on a
small girl by a head stone

She wore blue jeans, a yellow
shirt and had blonde hair
She didn't look more than six
as she paused and stared

Then, as my head lights moved
to the right, she walked on
I pulled over and stopped by
the tall wrought iron fence

I thought she must've wandered
away from home and gotten lost
Out of concern, I climbed the
fence and went looking for her

I had a flashlight I kept in the
car and the batteries were good
My flashlight beam swept left
to right, but to no avail

I was more than surprised not to
find the little girl as I walked more
Just when I had almost given up, I
stood before a small dirt plot

Adorned with flower's stuffed animals
cards, letters and a photo
I was stunned to recognize the little
girl in the photo as who I had seen

© 2005 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Old Harrison Asylum!

The old Harrison Asylum was
closed down since 1959
Boarded up and empty for as
long as I can remember

But strange things had gone on
and for years people talked
Things I have never told anyone
and who would believe me?

In the night, when the moon is
full I have heard their screams
Ear piercing shrieks from those
committed to the asylum

I once saw a loose slat on the
second floor suddenly move
A pale white hand thrust out
frantically tasting freedom

As if capturing the fresh air
before slowly pulling back in
If you think I lingered to see
what was next, you're wrong

The asylum was the prison for
32 patients who were tortured
The four doctor's were convicted
and sent to prison in 1960

It is these tortured souls that I
feel haunt this sad place
Desperately trying to escape from
a place they cannot escape

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Library Ghost!

There is a tale passed on from
Librarian to librarian
Of a ghost of a woman who has
wandered this library for years

No one knows her name or why
she lingers among the rows
As she searches for a particular
book she is fond of reading

She never speaks to any of us as
we arrive and get ready to open
Though in our rush to put books on
shelves, she sometimes helps

She is in her thirties with long wavy
red hair, wearing a blue dress
I wish I knew her name, and why
she lingers in our library

For just before the front door is
unlocked, and people fill the aisles
Each seeking a book to enjoy, I see
her wave and fade away

© 2002 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Kiss Of Life!

You needn’t fear the night
nor the darkness I whisper
I am the prince of darkness
I wait for you impatiently

At my side you will reign as
my mate as the sun now sets
I will show you things that
no mortal has seen before

Within my veins flows eternity
shrouded in the nights darkness
You and I will rest during the
day in a coffin built for two

I will keep you close to me and
protect you from day walkers
We will feed upon those who hate
us and search these forests for us

As wolves we will roam these hills
above this village as we watch
I will teach you to hunt them down
so that you and I may live

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The State Trooper

I had just climbed back into my 1972
383 six-pack Cuda-Hemi
And listened to the Beach Boys playing
on my car stereo for a minute

That’s when a state trooper pulled into
the parking lot and stared
He stepped out of his car with
his belly, hanging low

Just a good-old Georgia boy he was
as he went in for coffee
I filled the tank and turned the key
and the engine came to life

I popped the top of the can of beer
and took a long sip
When the trooper came out, he saw
my beer and dropped his coffee

Then he gave me that smart <deleted> look
that said, I was going to jail
He walked straight for my car and I
put the pedal to the metal

My tires were squealing as he ran
to his car and the race was on
In my mirror I saw his blue lights
as he closed the distance

I fish-tailed onto the red dirt road
unable to see him behind me
I swerved left and right, oh my God
I was flying like the wind

By now, I was hitting 70, 80, 90
and I drove faster and faster
Suddenly, up ahead, I saw a 90
degree curve in the road

Then, I was airborne, crashing
through the brush
When I came to, I wondered why
I couldn't feel any pain?

My front end was crushed against
a tree, as I looked in the mirror
Then to my horror, I realized that
I was at the gas station again!

© 2002 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Job I Never Finished!

Today's landscaping job was
mowing tall grass on a lot
The lot overlooked a bluff as
I looked out at the sea

The only structure on the lot
was a small A-frame
The weather was overcast
just a slight sprinkle

I felt peculiar that afternoon
a feeling of depression
This wasn't typical of me and
there was something else

Several times as I looked at
the ground with my weed-eater
I could have sworn that I saw a
glimpse of a man's face

Staring at me with the coldest
eyes, eyes filled with hate
I must have been imagining it
as shivers went down my spine

Then, without any warning, I felt
the strongest urge to jump
To jump off the cliff's edge to my
death on the rocks below

I tried to fight the feeling and I
could feel an evil presence
Ice cold hands against my back
I frantically tried to stand still

Closer and closer I came to the
edge, as if I was in a trance
Then, I tripped over a rock, and I
fell to the ground, becoming alert

My senses came back to me and I
felt tears form in my eyes
I head a deep, commanding voice
telling me, I must jump!

I shook my head, stood up and I
ran to my truck and jumped in
I fumbled with the keys, my hand
shaking, as the engine started

I shoved it in reverse and my tires
dug into the dirt as I sped off
I had left all my tools behind and
never returned for them

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Heron Island Ferry Ghost

I was the last vehicle to make
it on the Herron Island Ferry
I made myself as comfortable
as I could for the short ride
I noticed a tall, red haired deck
hand as he smiled and waved
I rolled my window down and I
saw his name tag, Abel Graham

I asked Abel how he was doing
and he said, "Every day's the same"
I laughed and said "I know exactly
what ya mean Abel"

There was something different in his
eyes, when I made that comment
And I thought for a moment he was
offended, but his smile returned

We chatted for 10 minutes before he
said he had to finish his round
I wished him a good day as he continued
down the row of cars and trucks

It was then that I saw a plaque on the wall
and curiosity got the best of me
So, I got out and walked over to it and my
jaw dropped as I read the words

Abel Graham

This Plaque is in memory of Abel Graham, who died from a fall on June 18, 1989. He cared deeply for our passenger's, and shared his smile easily. He will be missed by both our crew and our passenger's.

I stood there in shock and disbelief as I
stared at his photograph on the plaque.
Abel, or rather his ghost still lingered here
and I was absolutely speechless

How ironic that there are spirits that will
linger where they have died
I knew that Abel loved his job and the
passengers that rode this ferry

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Ghost Ship!

I was hired as a deck hand
on The Blue Princess
A yacht owned by a man
who had millions

80 feet bow to stern with all
the luxuries you could desire
I heard the rumors from the
crew that it was haunted

The ship was once owned by
a man who smuggled people
Mostly rich families from the
Island of Azores

Years past, sea pirates robbed
raped, pillaged and plundered
Ransacking every home found
often times killing the men

As I listened intently, the story
unfolded a night of murder
After paying huge sums of money
the owner killed his passenger's

It was a standing order that no
one was to open one room
A room with four padlocks for
within it were fourteen ghosts

© 2003 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The House On The Hill!

It was almost 10 pm as I made
my way down the winding road
When suddenly my rear tire blew
and I swerved into the ditch

It was just my luck to not have
a spare, I thought to myself
There was nothing else for me
to do except start walking
Good thing I had a flashlight as
I locked the door and left
I had walked nearly a mile, and
not a car had come by

So much for hitching a ride to
the nearest town for help
I figured the best I could hope
for was to find a house

Someone who had a phone so
I could call for a tow truck
It was then, that the storm got
worse and lightening flashed

Caught in the flash of light I saw
a ghostly house on the hill
A house so spooky it looked
like one from Stephen king

As the lightning flashed again
I saw a beautiful woman
She was floating off the ground
her arms outstretched to me

Her gown flowed wildly in the
wind as she came closer
I was scared to death and I ran
down the hill fast as I could

© 2002 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

[Ghostwriter1983]

The Ghost On The Railroad Tracks!

I remember when I was about 12
a time when I loved to fish
I knew of the perfect fishing hole
a large secluded pond

The easiest way to get to it was
following the old railroad tracks
We had made a small path thru
the brush during the summer

It was getting towards evening
but still light, when curiously
I saw something moving near the
tracks and I looked intently

To my disbelief, I saw a woman in
a white dress floating in the air
She had long blonde hair and there
was a soft glow surrounding her

I poked Josh when I saw her and
he whispered for us to follow her
We laid down our fishing poles
and that was when she saw us

Oh my God, her face was all bloodied
And she screamed as she pointed at us
I pee’d my pants then and there as
I ran to catch up to Josh and Sam

We were running as fast as we could
and we never once looked back
We didn't even go back to get our
fishing poles, not till the next day

© 2002 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)