Ghosts

Big Frank has been reading Halloween poetry. These are poems about jack-o-lanterns, witches, graveyards, costumes, spookiness, horror, and ghosts. When we think of ghosts we tend to think of the external ones; you know, the souls of dead people who for some reason can't move on. They can go through walls, sometimes leave you with a chill, and can play tricks on you. Some believe in them and some don't. However, nobody can dispute the interior ghosts. So here are a couple of poems from two women poets from the 19th century.

[Photo: Magne]

XXIX. Ghosts

~ Emily Dickinson

One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.

Far safer, of a midnight meeting
External ghost,
Than an interior confronting
That whiter host.

Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
The stones achase,
Than, moonless, one's own self encounter
In lonesome place.

Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
Be horror's least.

The prudent carries a revolver,
He bolts the door,
O'erlooking a superior spectre
More near.

All Hallows Night
~ Lizette Woodworth Reese

Two things I did on Hallows Night:—
Made my house April-clear;
Left open wide my door
To the ghosts of the year.

Then one came in. Across the room
It stood up long and fair—
The ghost that was myself—
And gave me stare for stare.