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Epic Halloween Poems | Epic Poems About Halloween

These Epic Halloween poems are examples of Epic poems about Halloween. These are the best examples of Epic Halloween poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

FORBIDDEN

~ZOMBIE NIGHT~ 

WHINING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Ascension of the dead -Longing to live again 

Sands of desert flip the hour glass back
WHIMPERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes 

Taking light from where evil stays 
Feeding away leaving behind a death valley zone
WONDERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair

Dead souls forsake the common land
Shadowing like Equinox light 
Walking corpse covered in rotten barren sand
WINDY WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND 
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air

Upright, forward broken taboo 
Searching for the perfect breath of fresh air
Sounds of symbols march the ground
Searching to find their missing heartbeat
WHISKING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night


Ascension of the dead  -Long to live again 
Bones slowly desert distorted resting home
Moonlight vanishing in complete despair
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
WHEN WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND

by;PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

TENTACLES

In the heart of the blackest abyss, down, 
Down, in fathoms deep crypt, where light
Does not penetrate, and the structured protective hauls,
Of men, are crushed beneath pressures massive
Weight, of the oceans deepest depth.
This is truly inner spaces aquatic zone of the
Unknown, a realm of stilled silence frozen
In the icy currents of the barren straights.
Where prehistoric giants dwell, amongst the
Tidal flow, ambush predators, forgotten beasts,
From long ago, living krakens whom devour
All life, hidden within their dark domain.
In Poseidon's mighty anger, the waves answer,
To his fists of fury, hurricanes wrath of vengeance,
Gives birth to the perfect storms rage, 
Vessels rise and than fall in the tidal surging
Waters.
Nay do the sailors cry out to the Lord God on high, 
For redemption's salvation, but the sacrificial altars must
Be appeased, by flesh and bloods sacred offerings.
Summons does the mighty lord of the seven seas,
To release the last of the ancient Leviathans.
Two thousand hands, of a thousand dead men,
Heave and pull at the tethering heavy chains,
To this devil of the depths cage.
From within interments vaulted keep,
Captivities living spawn from hell, is 
Unshackled and released, to reek havocs
Devastation above.
An aquatic spider, a maritime widow maker,
Flexing and in-flexing, its body’s motions,
Towards the surface, in pulsations rhythmic
Orchestrations, the gray giant is ready to strike,
With its killing arms extended wide, to grapple
At its unprotected prey, to engorge itself with
All living matter that it surveys, within its icy reach.
As bubbles shoot upwards breaking the waters
Surface, suction cups and talon claws are drawn
Outwards, aligning his eight legged tentacles of bone
Crushing death, behold the Giant Squid, instrument of
Lethal torture, a living killing machine from the fathoms 
Deepest depths.
For it is the beast, the true essence of evil
Incarnate, and none survive its destructive wrath.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE VAMPERIC PRAYER-DRACULA'S OATH

In the name of blood, for it is the source of life itself,
Plasma's crimson essence of liquid infusion, to the undead's
Pulsating heart.
Intravenously feeding cravings passion, through the carotid
Artery at the throat of humanity, thou'st not love, suffer
The pleasure indulge the pain, the out come shall be the same,
To be embraced by the black ebony arch angel of death,
Release thy darker side, let the instinctual behavior of the beast,
Know freedoms unshackling at last.
Become one of his sacred disciples, a creature of his dark dimension,
A kindred being, unto the legion of the night.
In the moon's elliptical light, shadows thus move from 
Left to right, shifting as transparent figures, phantoms of
Illusions, taking winged flight, soaring on the currents
Of air mingling with their ancestral brethren, the vampire bat.
Run does not the lone wolf, along the side path next to man,
As we do so walk amongst them, yet never attempting to belong.
Oh are we not the a shunned, the accursed, by a God known
For his forgiveness, to love all living things under
Heaven, but for us this mightiest of lords, turns
His gaze away, not acknowledging our existence.
Our we not his lost sheep, missing from his flock, why
Does not this Sheppard seek this black lamb’s wool,
Is it too coarse for weaving's wheel, as it spins thus
And is it not said that he created all life within his image.
Nay I pray this vamperic prayer, why has he abandon
Us, the darker of his creations.
Behold the unascended, begging to enter beyond the gates
Of light, children of the lost are we, seeking a father blind
To his responsibility.
Harvesting, by the basic instincts given unto us,
Taking only what we need to survive, for this he has turned
Against us, and thus taking the light of day with him.
So my father of damnation's hell, has offered salvation's
Darker domain as a sheltering harbor of comfort, I will not
Abstain his patronage.
For I am the ashunned, living by the moonlight's haunting glow,
Yet yearning to see one last horizons sunset, but the Holy Father,
Hears not my humble vamperic prayer.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

SIN CITY-LAS VEGAS

On the streets of sin city, on the high roller's main drag,
Known as the Las Vegas Strip, a gentlemen phantom
Does stroll dressed in all black attire, striding forth with his golden Cain,
Flipping a silver chip into the air, and mocking at its power.
The devil's agent of deception is he, retaining a list of names
To collect upon, this gentlemen bandit of the forsaken.
He is here on the dark master’s behalf, ready to claim on
The I.O.U's signed by the greedy, and innocence fallen.
Quietly, moving amongst the crowded venues, he waits
Until his lord calls the name of the unlucky, to be reposed.
Dance do the neon lights, flashing towards pleasure dens of iniquity,
As ladies whom belong unto the night itself, offer their
Tokens of favor, for a working man's paycheck.
Black jacks twenty-one, cut those cards, and pass them out
The first timers dumb luck, will deliver him unto evil,
On this walkers dead man's list tonight.
Against the loaded dice, no soul is left unsanctified,
On the sacred green velvet altar, the wheel of fortune
Spins out of control, then hitting the baccarat tables
Wooden wall, someone screams snake eyes. 
Then all is lost, faded are the dreams of illusion, melting away
Into the harsh desert soil, along the road side leading to sin city.
Beneath the arid sandy duns, lies the grave yard
Of the unknown unidentified, a missing persons
Smorgasbord of the rich and infamous, lying right
Beside, the unreported poor man corpse.
This is the Grim Reapers play ground, taunting
And tormenting, those begging for redemptions
Last chance to gain a reprieves pardon.
But when tapped by his golden cain of death,
Your life's essence has wagered it's last bet,
To the winner goes the spoils, and now you
Belong unto the devil.
People say what happens in Vegas stays
There, and rightly so will he agree, with his blackened
Heart and soul, for after all is this not
The capital of hell on earth, known as
Sin City, Las Vegas, Nevada.
The populations of the undead just added
Another’s names tally and the gentlemen
Dressed all in black, is sent a wandering
Again amongst the crowed streets, to claim
Another victim in the dark master’s wrath of
Vengeance.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

VAN HELSING


A gentleman dressed all in black, hides amongst the shadow realm,
This inquisitions exorcist fights on the altar of justice
And faith, a white knight of the elliptical moon, defending
The mortal souls of humanity, on this thin veil
Between right and wrong!

So speaks the Vampire:
Yes we know of him, this defiler of the unsanctified tomb, the slayer of
The unrighteous soul, this doctor of doom, blasphemer to the powers
Of the supernatural, he enters the pitch dark paradise of my
Fathers sacred blackened temples, killing without mercy’s pity,
Those to helpless, and to weakened by hungers blood thirst, and left
Unable to defend themselves against him, this is the so called
Right hand of your Lord God!
Van Helsing, he’s know profit or saint, to what church or God
Does this mortal owe allegiance, is your Lord of divine love, so
Willing to see blood flow, than what makes him so different than
Our dark father, nay what gives this single man, the right to destroy,
That which took centuries to build, blood ties legions eons to infect, with
The poisonous evil of vampiric venom!
Weep do not the black angels of death, for their undead children
Of the night, oh cry mother vampire, as she pulls the crimson shrouds,
Over the mutilated corpses of her fallen young, swearing vengeance by the
Setting sun, in the twilight hour thy will be done, in hell or heaven, revenge
Shall be yours!

THE BATTLE:

In the Transylvania hills, a carriage rolls along at a break neck pace,
It races against the last rays of moonlight, into the rising sun beyond.
Behind the black coach a creature of darkness follows, not realizing death
Lies hidden within, it is Van Helsing!
Come thus daughter of darkness, meet your demon releaser,
Purification's baptized bat exterminator, let me cleanse your evilistic
Undead soul, by the power of the silver stake through thy
Unbeating heart!
But this she-vampire only knows the sorrow of the loss of
Her children, it drives the madness of revenge towards
The light of self-destruction, and waiting at the other end
Is a gentleman dressed in all black, who laughs at her pains
Agony!
The coach suddenly stops, and Van Helsing steps forth,
Enough of this cloak and dagger, I’m ready for you mistress of evil,
Come and meet your maker, by my mortal hands, so fast
In her flight the bat is entrapped, unable to slow down!
One shot it only took one shot, of a stakes silver arrow
To plunge through her broken heart, as the sunrise
Cascades through the forest trees, she the vampire
Screams why, have you done this unto me and mine
Kindred, Van Helsing, why?
Crawling across the ground as an animal defeated,
The bloody impalement oozing, dripping with the
Crimson fluid of life eloping forth, raising her
Fists of anger towards him, why she yells
Once again, why, than crumpling on the dirty
Soil of her childhood birth!

Van Helsing speaks:
Coldly saying its nothing personal child of darkness,
As the sun’s rays tare and singes at this poor
Creature crumbling before this death stalker,
This white knight of the elliptical moon,
Named Van Helsing?

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Family Grief Family Happiness

  
   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
        
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
          
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John. 
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
         
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
        
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
        
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
        
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    
                       
              

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

THE CURSE OF THE GYPIES

Underneath the light of the full moon, a she-creature
Prowls through the thickets wild.
Stalking quietly waiting for the canvas city to
Slumber into a lazy sleep, ever closer silent sleek black
Paws sneak forward ready to draw its vengeance.
She is the curse of the gypsies, made from the
Blood of a crimson star, which split apart and fell
To earth below.
Two small shards burnt through the forest canopy,
And cut deeply into the earth's soil itself.
Creations ground zero, for rebirth leaving behind
Two lunar figures, one of light, the other as 
Dark as pitch, identical twins of a solar eclipse.
Spin did the wheels of the gypsy’s caravan, stopping nearby,
Finding these orphan’s of the skies, they became
Foundling's of the nomad’s tribe.
Oh beauty of the heavens did glow in the light
Of the bright child, as darkness’s black emptiness,
So burned within her ebony sister kindred.
These solar babies grew in power year by year,
Until thirteen summers and nights had passed by,
One day a great storm came to the tented world
Of the gypsies, flashing thunder and lightning,
Burned and tore at the traveling village.
The dark child crouched in shadows corner,
But the child of light emerged willing to sacrifice
Her life for those whom had saved hers.
Ascending upwards to appease the heavens
Itself the storm God, welcomed and excepted
This child of lights sacrifice.
But the child of darkness was angered, and
Took her revenge on the gypsies, vowing to
Leave none alive.
So she follows them, stalking where ever their
Wheels cut into the damp soil, this is the curse
Of the gypsies.
So these nomads must keep moving always,
But on this night many souls shall know pure
Terror.
For through the thickets under bush,
She waits for the canvas town to sleep, then
Will strike, to satisfy the aching within her blackened heart.
By tooth and claw strike, to be illuminated by
The beautiful face of her sister twin, whom
Weeps amongst the heavens above,
In sorrow for those she herself loved so
Much, are killed, by the darkness of her
Own sister kindred.,
Whom roars with fiendish delight, at her victims
Pain, the black jaguar a lost child of a fallen star.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE CITY OF LOST SOULS

Beware, out-Lander for thy tread on the sacred ground,
Of Louisiana, guarded by the ghosts of the Mississippi,
And here the dead tell know tails, of the living's returning,
After adventuring into the darkness of the night.
Rattle them bones, sister voodoo woman,
Black magic's high priestess, cast asunder the 
Ivory teeth of the white devils, across the streets
Of old New Orleans, behold the ancient city of lost souls.
Hidden beneath the glittering mask, of La Carnival,
It is the celebration of the dead, my friend, and faceless
Figures, do toss the beads of evil, to the lustful
Crowds gathering, for Mardi-Grad's extravaganza.
Phantom walkers, without names or emotions, spirit stalkers,
Roaming the old French quarter, seeking to catch the
Innocent traveler unaware and unprotected. 
A wall of realism and illusion, thin is the veils that divide
Light and darkness, sheer vaporous mist of transparency,
Existing in this the forgotten realm, where southern
Comfort invites the living to visit, but never allows them
To leave alive.
As the flickering rays of twilight fades, swallowed whole
By the spectral invaders, the creatures of light seek refuges,
Holy places, as the church bells ring, calling unto the innocent
Make heist to salvation's shelters of grace.
In he city's center, lays a dry leathery organ, sunken
And misshapen, feel the rising, the awakening of the
Heart of evil emerging, its veins arteries made of 
Cobble stones brick, thus are the webbing's of streets leading, 
Unto the deadened heart, metamorphosing it alive once more.
Slowly bloods spiritual essence rushes through
These ethereal veins, reaching this source most
Evil, it owns this city of lost souls, unto the tolling
Hour of dawns first rays of light, crossing the horizon.
Red bricked buildings lay side by side one 
Another, in a design of Gothic manipulation, feeding
Stations made cozy for the living and dead to reside
Within, as the crimson curtains blow freely from the 
Inside out, welcome my friends to the French quarters,
The threshold's crossing, between life and death.
Hear the low thumping of the Jamaican drum,
Mixed with African tongue, chanting in rhythm's
Echoing breeze, softly spoken in whispers are the spells
Of misfortune, a vow's crimson promise, written in blood
Long ago, a demonic pack made between the spiritual native
Inhabitance and the dark heart of the Cajun Bayou.
On bloods throne the Grim Reaper does so sit, next 
To his bride, the Queen known as Mrs. New Orleans,
Both laughing in tandem, with the musical chorus
In this requiem of the dammed.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE SKELETON KEY

Wrought liquid metal, hued in the fire's of hell,
Pored into a castings shell, then hammered well,
By the angry fists of Satan himself, behold the skeleton key.
Accursed by evil's malevolent spell, one size fits all,
No locked doors can resist against its turnings twist,
Opening unto the supernatural's mystical power, and unlocking
Humanity's hidden passages and darkest corridors,
Leaving no secrets left unspoken or in silence.
Crimson blood spewing forth from corrupted key holes, oozing
Downwards unto the floor below, staining ancient
Tapestries of the royal gentries, and the upper classes refined.
Skull to the cross bones, it possesses a will of its own, 
A vile living entity, with its own consciousness.
Molding, reshaping itself at pleasures dark whim, 
Feasting on hatred's malice, then releasing it unto the world
Of men.
A twisted wanton thing, laughing with intentions cruelties,
And relishing in our agonies pain.
But Homo sapiens are a curious species, never realizing when to
Leave things well enough a lone.
We must know what lies beyond that forbidden
Door, where mankind is not allowed to trespass.
In these dark places of shadows ethereal, it rocks in a fetal 
Ball, a creature, waiting to be disturbed, go then seek what lurks therein,
If you dare, only the key knows what it really is, and it laughs,
At our ignorance, mocking us in the darkness.
Four it is the beast, chained and shackled within our worst
Nightmares, a fierce devilish demon, that pierces through the
Darkest of night, to hunt the innocent souls of wayward men.
You've have ventured to far, beyond thy safety zone of no return.
Four death lies in those reddened eyes that watch you within 
The darkness.
If you move it will attack, motions movements attracts
Attentions reactions, so remain frozen there is no safety's retreat
Thou'art trapped, again the key so laughs in the abyss,
Mocking at humanity's ignorance.
Shaking with anticipations glee, it begs the next
User to place it into the key hole, of the unknown, come along 
Now what can it hurt, just one little peek, let’s look beyond the crimson
Door, as the skeleton key heckles with unbridled happiness.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE GOLDEN PEN

Lightly the rain falls upon the lamp lit streets, the shabbily dressed figure
Walks with an air of uncertainty down the cobbled stone streets, leaning,
On his rickety cane, the elderly gentleman huddles beneath his umbrella Of refuge.
Shadows of the tenement brownstones line the edge of this rough necked
Part of town, here is the sheltering halls of the forgotten do dwell, the poorer
Venue that slum lords build their fortune’s foundation’s upon.
The gentlemen approaches his own dwellings dormancy with hesitations
Beating heart throbbing within his small fragile bent frame, for he knows
Tonight shall be his last night on this ethereal plane of existence.
For one last moments belief reflection he remains completely still, just to
To feel the autumn breeze against his bare flesh, to hear the rain drops hitting
Against the window panes, and to bid his final farewell to humanity.
Taking out his keys with his wrinkled twisted hands, he unlocks the doors
To his apartment, turning around to look outwards the gentlemen sighs, it has
Been a hard life, but I’m resolved to meet the next adventure, then he shuts
And locks the tenement’s door.
Weary from his days traveling the elderly gentlemen, climbs his steps upwards,
Towards his little room in the back area of his apartments, then he sits at his office
Desk for the last and final time, now to complete my journeys final entry, he thought
To himself this writer of the super natural’s acclaim.
Dipping his quilted golden pen into his ink well, the master writes one last line,
The end, or is this just the beginning?
Clumping over, clasping upon his desk the elder gentlemen’s heart lies stilled
As if at perfection’s final rest, his golden pen now runs crimson, bleeding downwards
Across the aged parchment paper, dripping onto the old wooden floor boards below.
The office door blows open a tall figure thus so enters, dressed in a raggedy robe of black,
Thread borne and full of tares and wholes, the creature approaches the dead gentleman,
As if in a screeching howl, the Grim Reapers touches him, ripping his spectral spirit
Free from the fleshes boney shell.
I’ve come for you old man, resist me not for your sins are heavy, and I’ve no time for
The ranting or ravening’s last pleas for salvations from one such as yourself, I have no
Last wishes qualms my friend, take me at your leisure, for I’ve grown weary of this life,
And it’s lonely emptiness.
Then the room grows cold, the ethereal disturbance ends as quickly as it had begun,
Leaving only the shell sitting at the old wooden desk, what happens when the writers
Golden pen runs crimson, bleeding downwards across the aged parchment paper,
Dripping onto the old wooden floor boards below?
The world of humanity thus so weeps for him, for he is the grand master of darkness’s
Written word, the skilled craftsman’s whom reveals what lies beyond the darker realms
Ebony gates, by his darker words of wonderment.
Farewell Mr. Edgar Allen Poe, we shall miss you always, you whom welcomed death
So easily, but the world of men is left empty without thee, as thy golden pen thus so
Now runs crimson and lies stilled forever.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
SCATCH A CHARACTER CONTEST
10-19-2014

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

SUBMARINE-THE GRAY GHOST

From fathoms deepest keep, where man,
Shall not dare go, a white toothy giant
Dwells, with hatred's malice, this is a living man
Eater, whom lies at the bottom of the ocean.
In this striking zone, of deadly encounters,
Here where dead men tell no tails, crimson
Currents of the lifeless, float to the top of the food
Chain, and their last breaths of air explode, as
Bubbles above at the surface,
Leaving nothing behind but a bloody residue,
And the wreckage mangled life raft, and one word
Still lingers on the foreboding breeze, as a screams
Echoing drowns into whispers in silences last refrain,
SHARK!
Nay this aquatic Phantom, called Submarine,
Is the gray ghost that stalks within every human
Beings nightmares, just below the waves of our
Subconscious fears, a demon lurks in the darkness,
Of the murky shallows, waiting to take a bite
Out of us.
A thirty-seven foot killing machine, with razor
Blades of jagged ivory's, moving at velocities mega
Speed, heading straight for humanity's beach,
His favorite hunting grounds.
A leviathan of a shark, highly intelligent,
Circling his preferred prey called man,
The hunter is ready to appease his
Insatiable appetite that is never satisfied,
In a carnivores blood bath of mayhem,
Just off shore of paradise.
In hell's kingdom many souls scream from
Below one word that echoes through the
Chum filled surf above, SHARK.
For these are the latest victims, of
The Submarines wrath, and now they do
So warn the living, beware of this sharp
Toothed Giant!
Look into the black eyes of death, take
Notice if he bares the scare of men,
And notches gouge mark on his dorsal fin,
For than thee shall know for sure, if
It is truly the gray ghost,
Known as Submarine.
If thou’ art sure, than say your final prayers unto God,
And inhale one last deep breath of air,
Than swim away, as fast as you can,
For humanity is now on the menu!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

From behind the crimson curtain,
The skylark sings within her
Gilded cage of musical notes,
To please her dark lord and master.
Beauty's prisoner of the forsaken,
She raises her voice in clarity's
Magnificence,
Beneath crystal chandeliers opulence.
As if a bird taking flight within
Harmonies Symphony.
This youthful diva sheds
Her physical shackles, released
By a spiritual reclamation, of liberty's
Beyond her earthly form.
This mistress of song captures
Liberation’s heights, beyond freedoms
Escape, to soar high above the heavens.
She is set free, released within the music itself.
In the mind of the phantom, he plays
Along with the orchestra of the dammed.
A pianist of great renowned, with loves
Sweet melody, is inspired by jealousy’s
Conquest, she is his, always and forever.
The dead’s musicians, play on, with their
Instruments precisely in tune,
A delicate balancing, is each textures
Movement, it is harmony's perfection,
A Graceful sounding, carried across the
Stage of this twisted tragedy.
On destiny's piano the grand master sits,
With his candelabra lit, from loves eternal
Flame of desire.
It's light softly flickering, by gentle winds
Breeze, calling her name, Christine.
Oh angels of mercy, here the meadow lark
Singing, beneath the cobbled streets,
And sawyers chambered walls.
Love's prince does slay the beast,
As fire shatters the opera house, leaving
Nothing but ashes residue behind.
Yet in echoes voice, he screams by nights
Breath, her name once more, he calls unto her,
The phantom of the opera, Christen.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

TOMBSTONE

Whistle does the lone desert winds, flowing downwards from
Boot hill cemetery, in icy chilling breeze full of echoing voices,
From the past, begging for redemptions last chance of salvation.
Roll does the crimson tumbleweed, towards the ghost town known as
Tombstone, a monuments graveyard to the old west.
In this rock cactus garden of venomous vipers, did the righteous
Live, amongst the uncivilized lawless, in this wildness country,
Of the unbridled frontier.
Blinded by greed's lightning flash, for quick money and easy cash,
Did the earth expose evil's shining metal, silver, from deep within,
Accursed is this place, purgatory's hell on earth, its deadly soil marred
And sanctified in blood sacrifice.
Left to the scorpions and rattlesnakes, as the only living inhabitants,
Ramshackle buildings remain, abandonment’s delinquent tribute
To a once thriving community.
But after night fall, others come forth, crossing the threshold of the
Nether underworld, the gun slinger, the gambler, and ladies of
Reputation's ill repute, claim this desert real estate for their own
Dark amusement park, still whooping it up at the bird cage theatre,
Indulging themselves. In all manor of seductions insidious erotic acts
Of depravity.
The condemned soulless walk these dusty sandy streets of limbo,
Forever banished are these bastered son's of the gun. Or until the last
Shot is fired at the O.K. Corral, on high noon's final sunrise.
Satan is the lawful sheriff here, in this the territory of the forsaken,
And his loyal deputy the Grim Reaper controls the posses of the undead.
Riding against the redden moon, seeking any innocent soul trying
To escape from this desert prison.
You've drawn the dead man's hand my friend, if you find yourself lost here,
For the condemned show no mercy's reprieve to outsiders, the screaming
Souls shout from above, run lone cowboy run, and don't look back,
For the devils possess rides behind thee, and the dark lord,
Takes no prisoner's alive.
Whistle do the lone desert winds, flowing downwards from
Boot hill cemetery, in icy chilling breeze full of echoing voices,
From the past, begging for redemptions last chance of salvation.
But light concurs darkness, and death's icy grip fades at the 
First rays of sunrise, and all evil must return to their crypts
Beneath the earth, from the dust from when'est they came, 
Until the next moon's rising, then wide will the gates of hell,
Swing again, releasing the germinate residences of a city,
Named Tomb Stone.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

IN THE WOODS

Stretching at the very heavens are the braches of autumn,
It is becoming the season of death, and mother natures promise
Of rebirth is with drawing, leaving nothing behind but stilled
 Whispering echoes.
The very ground itself grows fidgeted, as winters icy finger tips
Strangle at earths raw under belly, finally it yields to the pains
Agony and nature lies slain, forced into hibernation’s sleep, until
Spring breath will awaken it at last, with resurrection’s sweet kiss of life
Once more.
A screeching black raven clings to the darkening skies, one by one do
These harvengers of death land atop the trees icy prongs that bend and
Brake beneath their feather weight of distain.
Dark eyed demons ever watching, waiting unto the night takes passion
Of this world of the living, these sentinels of the demonic peck, and strike
At one another with anticipations things to come by night.
A stilled silence blankets the forest; nothing stirs except the creaking of
The ice in a near by stream, on the path a sobering wind rustles at the deadened
Leaves that crackle in the fall breeze.
It so creeps forward the feeling of uneasiness, the soft breath blowing against
The back neck hairs of humanity, a lumbering heaviness boggs down the air itself,
Almost choking the life from all living things in the surrounding venue.
Excited the black birds take winged flight, soaring screeching, announcing it
Comes, it comes!!
Shuttering nature pulls its white snow covering over its very head, she even
Wishes not to see, this true face of evil that cometh forward, the ethereal trap
Door has been triggered, and what elopes onwards cannot be stopped by 
Any powers on earth.
Blow does the trumpets of heaven, angels take to the winds of destiny, beckoning
The evil to with draw, but it mocks at them, screaming in a howling’s rebuking,
I listen not to the likes of thee!!
Then a light unseen for many a millennium comes forward, it is the light of 
Everlasting salvation, then creature of darkness shall thee do battle with me,
Nay I will with draw, backwards from winnest it came it vaporizes and disappears.
In the woods there is a path, never to crossed by humanity, their thou shall not
Step, for the essence of evil’s cold chill still lingers, in the autumn chilling wind.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

DR JACKAL AND MR HYDE

DR. JAKAL AND MR. HYDE

Science verses madness, welcome Dr. Jackal meet Mr. Hyde,
Within all mankind a darker side exists, it is the beast,
Teetering on the brink of being released at any time.
Hatred’s malcontent, our inner basic instinct prowling, in
Our darkest part of the soul of humanity.
A madman’s obsession to gain control of his darker side,
Experiments in places where thou’est should not dare go,
Making judgments only left unto a higher powers call.
In a hidden laboratory, beneath the darkened streets of London,
A scientist crosses a fine thin line between the conscious. And
Unconscious mind, splitting his spiritual soul in two, releasing the
Beast from within himself, behold Mr. Hyde, heckling, screaming,
Into the darkness of the night, I’m free at last.
In shadows hollows he lurks, waiting to prey on the innocent,
Unaware of his malevolent presence, a black bag tucked under
This creature of the inhumane picks his victim with sheer disdain.
Luring them with silver flashing coins of promise, he kills without
Hesitations malice, relishing in their screams of tortures monumental
Torment.
But the manufactured poison, wears thin, and the Dr. Jackal, personality,
Chimes in again, and realizes what his alter ego has done, but it is too late,
To save the innocent from death’s final demise, so he flees the scene,
Escaping into the night’s shroud.
Never again Dr. Jackal vows, will I release this inner demon, yet
Hyde will not be denied, I will take power again.
Dark and light battle within one beings soul, until the eclipse of one nights full
Moon descends, and Dr. Jackal faces Mr. Hyde at last, ending his own life!
But in hell’s final crescendo, whom truly has lost the battle for existence,
The Man or monster.
Heaven only knows the truth on such matters; I’m just a lone mourner,
At a madman’s funeral, and shall I place two roses upon his grave, one
Of ebony black Mr. Hyde, and one white for my dear friend Dr. Jackal.
Farewell my friends, may you both find some kind of peace on the other
Side, he left a note with these budding gifts, and it was so signed
Sincerely the man dressed in black.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

MEDUSA


Amongst myths and legends shadow realm,
Dwells an ancient evil.
Beneath temples walls, and shattered ruins,
Beware mortals of what lies within the,
Burnt offerings wreckage.
In a hushed stilled silence, a figure lingers,
On the outer edges farthest fringes,
In the dark recess of humanity's night terror,
Lurks a demon a demonic priestess,
Called Medusa.
Reptilians fork tongue of darkness’s,
Grand design,
Listen not be deaf to her sweet melodies
Enchantment.
She slithers side by side as a rattle snake,
Moving in for its killing strike.
A hooded cobra lies behind emerald green eyes,
Laughing with sheer fiendish delights pleasure.
Deadliest of Lucifer's mistresses, she alone.
Waits for her next victim to enter,
This dead mans trap.
Frozen in that last tangible moment of existence,
Life depictions stone guardians, seemingly alive are
Poised in eerie poses.
Cement warriors with swords drawn and
Shields raised remain in battles stance.
A chilling realization is fears last expression,
Daring fools whom see death's reflection
Staring right back at them in the dark.
Fleshes accursed immortalized within
These statues of stone.
Fortune does not favor the foolhardy,
It punishes them by tortuous means.
A doubled edge blade placed in mortal,
Hands does not always yield a hero, or
Conqueror.
Step ever so lightly, keep all weapons,
Close at hand.
Heroic deeds deny you this adventurous tail.
For in the hollows depth no spirit escapes,
In her garden most evil,
Beware the wrath of Medusa.


BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN










Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Tail-rhyme | |

The witches winds are blowing

                  
                                               
 The Santa Ana's are here, and the moon is clear. 
There is a mystic in the air that whispers in my ear.
  Is this a peaceful feeling or does it carry fear ? 

What is the passion and hot fragrence of orange blossom that is pulling me a different way , as if this power has been sent only by a Witch of the finest of White Magic, only to calm the Blue Soul I have known my whole life.


 I feel a passion that is running through my Veins like the  power of water itself .
 
                               
As if the Moon itself were instructed to warm the air that is blowing . It is not a new moon , it is not a old moon , it is a moon that appears only in ones lifetime to gaze at .

 By seeing and feeling the very power of this Moon you will dance your way to Heaven with happiness of what is yet to come.
 
The Stars around this Moon are unique as if they take the presence of every loved one you and I have lost . 

The Witches winds with the warm glowing of the moon, as if I had never met you before , are blowing with the frangerence of Orange Blossom or Magnolia , from a distant past of The South.
 
As if I know we have been together once before , a Moon such as this . In a peaceful , lustful state of Bliss.
 

 There is something coming .. is it something I have always known or wanted ?

 What is yet to be known is as intoxicating as the Santa anas that are running through my body.
 As if i have been struck by the power of light , as the powerful moon I gaze at in the Night.
It is piercing my soul with it's only Truth, 
                                         By;
                                            Shanity Rain 

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

THE BLOODY TOWER

THE BLOODY TOWER

I am so trapped a phantom princess, on an ethereal plain, spiritually
Forgotten in isolation's domain, in hell's chamber of brick and mortar,
In this imprisonment of the unjust, I'm the innocent accursed, in England's
Bloody tower of London.
Once beauties most desired, men and kings fell before my velvet slippers,
Begging for pleasures tokens, yet I denounce them, for youth's rose I'd not sell,
Except for devotion's everlasting love.
But men are beasts, with silver tongues of deceit, and the blind heart
Hears only the charming words of vow's promises, spoken beneath the
Moonlight's enchanting spell I fell, a victim of this viper's poisonous bite.
So did thus a royal seducer come unto me, and by a jeweled crown,
And golden bands, I believed in this the usurper, of betrayals broken
Hearted.
Blessed in wedding's sacred church, we bowed our heads low, yet 
Next to me did I not recognize, the wolf hidden beneath the royal robes.
In the bed chamber, he sheds his linens of refinement, and then so exposed,
To the innocent lamb, his sharpened talons, ravished by his carnal lust,
A child bride was so sacrificed, upon the altar of passion's desires.
At mornings first rays of light, the mighty cobra left his bedding's nest,
Leaving behind him a slain creature tarnished by his royal scepter, laughing
In harmony's revelry, with his newly weeping court jester, did this king
Of lies ascend unto his crimson throne, ready to seek another's affection.
Condemned and judged by a jury of mine own kinsmen, for falsehood's
Crimes, my destiny’s fate is to be cut short by a doubled edge blade.
Oh Lord let my hearts sparrow take flights heights, and soar unto thee,
On thy far distant shore, but no prayers answer could save me.
Led unto mine own gallows, I'm led a queen dethroned for the loss
Of her own innocence, the black hooded Grim Reaper smiles at me,
I so do stumble, than collapse.
Placing my shaved head onto the anvils cold steel, listening to the crowds
Screaming off with her head, than a sudden crack, and my life is ended.
A phantom princess am I, wandering from the castle battlements,
To the gardens of fragrant roses, but nay not one step further, for all
Eternity.
From my window's keep, the world outside does change, yet here all
Remains the same, repetitions loop of reflective remote viewing,
Reliving the past over and over again.
If this not be hell's vengeance upon me, the accused than what have
I, the innocent done, to deserve such torture.
In the bloody tower, the walls do so bleed crimson red, and ghostly
Images past nay by the window pains of glass, begging for freedoms
Release from shackles made of mists mystical chains,
Pray for them, the lost souls of histories forgotten.



Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON

In the cradled of life's dark garden,
It dwells amongst the murky waters
Primeval,
Behold the creature from the black lagoon.
Nay what is this creation, neither fish or 
Reptile.
Yet a blending of both, a high bread's mixture,
Intelligent, and cunning, the last of his species,
To survive.
Brought unwisely did men, bring beauties
Forbidden fruit, unto this lost oasis of Eden.
For alone sentinel awaits to partake in such
A luscious morsel.
So does it not say in biblical text, go forth
And multiply, by a driven basic instinct he
Cautiously watches from the thicket brush.
What a graceful motion moves within the
Jungles domain, 
She swims idle caught unaware, the bride
To be herself, charms him with every stroke
Across this lake placid.
With Chameleon like stealth, the groom appears,
Taking his prize to their cavey honeymoon retreat.
So tenderly he greets his mate, from shocks
Dreamy like state she awakes, and recoils in repulsion.
No love's scorn, and tragedies broken heart,
Can do more damage than rejections expulsion.
Bullets may have cut the flesh to the bone,
But was it not beauty, which killed the beast,
And the last sight he saw, was his love in
Another's arms.
So ends natures final verse in this evolutionary
Experiment,
The creature from the black lagoon now lies
Dead, upon this tragic stage of life.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

THE GUILLOTINE


Does it not shimmer to the shine, the steel blade
Of dead reckonings ultimate design, cold is
Its fine edged point, a slicing masterpiece,
Of revolutionary engineering, behold deaths
Chopping silver anvil, the guillotine!
Polished by rags dipped crimson blood,
Washed by virgin waters of the fallen innocent,
From the martyr to the beggar thief,
It mattered not, to this abomination of
Humanities creation.
It wished nothing more except to be fed,
The head stones of the living, reveling in their
Screams of pain, and savoring the victims liquid
River of bodily fluids of terrors anguish.
A flashing chopping block, held and fastened,
By two wooden beams, apparatuses executioner,
Welding a suspended sword of destiny, at a
Ropes pivot center of weights mass,
Of crime or injustice!
The hooded condemned kneel underneath this,
Metal toothed demonic demon, praying
Their deaths to be swift, begging God
For salvation's intervention, but the beast
Awaits hungrily, demanding his tributes prize,
A bloody sacrifice of flesh and bone!
It almost seems to be a living entity,
Waiting, anticipating the carnage that is
To come, as the celebrating crowds gather.
Death’s grim reaper, kicks over the bags
Of weighted sand, just then the biting
Giant hammer clamps down, the final cut is done,
And the head basket of doom, is full at last!
The kindred brethren of the now deceased,
Yell hurray at this gruesome grandiose display,
Of carnages dismemberment and bloody
Theatrics, applauding for more!
Does it not shimmer to the shine, the steel blade
Of dead reckonings ultimate design, cold is
Its fine edged point, a slicing masterpiece,
Of revolutionary engineering, behold deaths
Chopping silver anvil, the guillotine!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

CANDY WARS


Within the pillow case universe, on the sacred night of Halloween,
There was a disturbance in the natural force of the candy zone,
And this is what began the legendary saga, of the goodie treats
Positive sweetness vs. the sour darkness bitter stomach upset!
But both sides conflicting, still leave tiny costumed storm troopers
Begging for more, at the doorsteps of humanity, with a battle cry
Of trick or treat, as porch lights flicker in the darkness of this
Spookiest of holidays!
The bitter chocolate emperor, is protected by his sour patch kids
Body guards, his only aim is to prove that tart is a better flavoring
Then sweet, what a diabolical delicious evil to swallow!
But the forces of goodie treats stand strong against this madness
Of these milk chocolate visions of power, a lone warrior rises
Upwards to take on this challenge, and his name is Luke Taste Bud,
The last true master of sweetness, whom welds the Life Saver,
Of pleasures indulgence!
Many battle wrappers have given their lives of savoring flavoring,
In this candy wars of tastes diversity, innocent star bursting galaxies
Have perished beneath this unjustified cause of bitter vs. sweet!
Whom shall win in this contest of true desire, what side is right
Or wrong, only the remaining left over pile will know after the
Spoils of Halloween are sorted by the overlords of power,
The parental Gods, whom choose the good treats from the bad!
As Luke Taste Buds faces off against the evil bitter Emperor,
Within the dreaming realm of peaceful slumbering, the tiny
Storm Troopers sleep within childhood fantasies of candy
Dreams.
The final Victory is being decided on the table of fate,
Within the living room of a higher plain, by the forces
Of good, whom slain the evil by consumption's mighty
Sharing, in their tributes offering of sweetness
These guardians of Parental power, do this to protect
Those tiniest of storm troops, what a sacrifice to make
On their behalf, they truly are magnificent lords of
Kindness and benevolence!
As the light of the new morning dawns, and Halloween’s
Excitement is quenched by the remaining left overs of
Goodie wars gone soar, within the pillow case universe,
The legend of the candy wars shall continue forever,
In the dreams of reflections memories carried forward,
And relived in the grand remembrance, of our childhood,
In every yummy bite, of the future when we indulge
Ourselves in a tasty treat, or the sour flavoring of pleasures
Delight!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN











Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

THE GRAVE DIGGERS


Beneath the full moon's illumination, two darkly dressed
Figures are quietly digging, gentlemen collectors, of the
Cadavers of the undead, desecration's henchmen of
Greed’s loosened purse strings, murders of the dead flesh
Trade.
Grave diggers for hire, the fresher the body, the more
Coin is made, Burke, and Hare always say, cash only on delivery!
What will it be Sir Professor of medicine, or science, large or
Small we provided it all, young or old, care we not, just tell us
Your preference, money does the talking here, sir!
So what will it be than, what's your pleasure governor,
Say these the body snatchers, of Edinburgh Scotland!
Shadow hunters with clubs of diversions in hand,
Tempting the male with passions of the evening,
Alluring co-horsts, walk their living dead victims,
Into deaths pleasure zone, then flee as the fatal
Blow is struck, by their gentlemen companions!
The Doctor you see, pays better coin, if the corpses
Cadaver is still warm, smothered, bashed, or strangled,
It’s all for the betterment of Science and medicine.
These sadistic serial killers of the past, rightly
Believe, and joking laugh, in the cold evening air,
Of this city’s seeder side of the tracks,
We’re doing this for the just cause, of
Humanity’s sake, ha ha!
Criminals after all my good man, is a harsh
Word to use, is it not for the future medical
Professional’s must be taught with the best
And freshest material possible after all, right governor!
Times are hard for the working man, we have
To fed are own after all, Burke and Hare
Relate, so if one unmissed individual puts
The spoils into our cooking pot, what the ####,
Simply does it really matter!
Let the gallows swing high on their reckoning day,
For sixteen lives will these guilty men pay for,
In their dearest bloods shedding, but in an
Eerie twist of fate itself, their bodies will
Go to the same medical professional,
So you see the joke is really on them in the end!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
This is a true story, it happened in England, and these men were 
Were eventually found out and hung, there bodies were than sent
To a university for the betterment of medical research!

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

ABDUCTION


In the moments of missing time, I’m unable to
Clearly define what is real, fact or fictions of illusion,
Bright, bright is the light of delusions, but I know
One thing I’ve been touch by the other side
Of realities unknown!
Sheer is the curtain between space, and times
Universal continuum, a fine thin veil pulled backwards
By unworldly hands, investigating chattering’s voices
Which Echo within my head, probing mine own version
Of sanities awkward view of life, and deaths
Context of truth!
Burning embers of reddened eyes, sizzle into my
Skeletal perception of panic, fear, this is a nightmare,
From which I cannot awaken from, me the abductionary
Victim, sitting on the stone cold table of realism,
Unable to move, and muted unable to scream!
Side to side, my captors do so move, whispering
In a language unknown to me, their prisoner,
What do they want from me, their caged
Animal, an earthling of mortal flesh, their
Creature held, an entrapment’s futuristic web!
Locked down are my wrists of humanity,
Unable to struggle free, a passive resistor,
Controled by these little green man tormentors.
As if these thoughts are read by them,
One turns and looks at me, a mental whispering
Do I so hear, me the abducted, be still now,
We mean thee no harm, just curious!
Almost tenderly does he whisper within my mind,
As I fell within a deep, deep sleep, suddenly I am
The dreamer awoken, drenched in sweat, shaking
Unto my own inner core, what time is it, what day
Is this, was it real or just a bad dream?
My clock radio, says only a moment has passed,
But I know something has happened,
I’m not just having a bad dream!
So I shake my wife lying next to me,
Obviously spooked beyond belief,
She says, I’ve had a similar dream?
In the moments of missing time, I’m unable to
Clearly define what is real, fact or fiction of illusion,
Bright, bright is the light of delusions, but I know
One thing I’ve been touch by the other side
Of realities unknown!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

A JOKER's- rebirth

      THE JOKER

Come at me Joker you will.
Got your eyes following me like steel.
A piece of me do you need.
Hell, take a few limbs off my tree.

Why did you leave that note on my wall??
Now I fear this echo-y call!
You left (ME) P.D. afraid of the dark.
"LOOK AT ME!"
I'm hiding under my covers, trembling at your weak bark.
I'm so scared,
I'm sleeping with one eye open~
"LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME!"
I even sleep with the lights on. 

sigh!" Sigh!" SIGH!"

I Can't let this go on.

A break in the wind,
Did you follow me again??
I hear this tune playing in my head.
LAUGHING and LAUGHING!
I panic with so many tears to shed!
Like a little girl, my hair I twirl.
Why is it me you dread??
This TUNE is making me shiver and quiver like a kid. 
Your watching me slither back into bed.
This LAUGHING! 
This TUNE I fear!
The noise is growing NEAR.
NEARER and NEARER!
My face is turning white like the dead.
I keep pressing my hands against my ears.
This tune starts to thicken the flow in my veins.
"FINALLY!"
You drive me INSANE.

I get the nerve to look under my bed.
What the FUDGE, is this doing under my bed??
Is this a jack in the box??
Joker are you FREAKING with my head??

A joke a laugh this DESTROYER has lied.
You don't got what it takes to make me hide.

Your trap fell into the pit of my abyss.
I've been waiting for you behind close doors.
We both hide behind a mask.
Your head falls upon my checkered board floor.

I am still P.D., and your masquerade  is over my friend.
I've come to destroy the joke you left on my end.

A trick--A riddle--A joke--A game--
Lets call it your death sentence.
I already tagged your stone with my name.
The POET DESTROYER was here : )
And left her name on your headstone of shame.

**the JOKER - re-post**

from: the POET DESTROYER
to: the JOKER  *from the poetry pub*


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

THE HAUNTING

Entombed behind isolation walled
 Prison,
A haunting malice trapped me within.
Crouching beneath shadows shroud,
 Leering eyes pierce.
Through darkness’s pitch black,
 Covenant.
Pacing beast intercepting motions,
 Movements, mocking my,
Feeble attempts to evade frenzy's,
 Tormentor.
Deceptions deceiver, silver tongued, 
Weaver, spewing lies deceit.
Intricately aligning it's widow,
 Makers webbing,
Feasting on innocence betrayal.
Heckling, laughter echoes, against,
 Dead reckoning.
A chilling appetizing, as if pleased,
 At malice’s intent.
Fiendishly, delighting in torturing,
It’s human pet.
A vacant mumbling feeling over,
 Comes reasoning,
A deeper anger begins to rage,
Rebelling against hatred’s,
Horrifying entity.
Motivated to survive beyond spectral,
 Captivity.
Hear my disgust, creature,
 I shall destroy thee.
Leave me alone, screaming aloud,
 Sanity's domain gives way.
In musty halls empty hollows,
 An odorous stench.
Fills mine senses,
Cease mortal miscreant,
 None leave here alive,
Shudders blood runs cold down raw
 Veins nerve endings,
A deepening realizations rushes,
 The conscious mind,
I'm deaths play thing.
To be pounced upon, a toy mouse,
 Caught between claws,
Extracting, retracting at whims invoking.
Invisible hands grasp choking life's,
 Breath away.
Feeling every heartbeat slowing,
 Quietly ceasing.
Stinging painfully ringing at ear, 
Shots quivering,
Oblivion's mute murmurs never part,
Lips tightly closed.
Let mercy's fallen be forgiven,
 Released from,
Beyond hells hidden regions,
A place devoid of spiritual salvation.
Foul demonic spirit haunting,
 A madman's kingdom,
It whispers to me in sweet melodies,
 Aftershock.
Now we begin, and you truly belong to me,
With satisfactions grimace, it smiles.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic | |

HALLOWEEN

A Pitch black scratched night full of grays, alone in a hut
Far away from the sun. A night of pure terror surrounded by
Whispering voices and all l could notice a pair of dizziness smoke 
With opposite meanings. 

Fiery shivering sweating like l am standing 
In the middle of a thunderstorm rainfall holding a piece of a very dried wood.
Gust increased my fear, the action begins. An empty house nowhere to hide 
Haunted house, scary movements scarecrow in the backyard
Sounds of opening graves Ghosts and brooms flying which evil witches
Ride when looking for fresh bloody like mine.

L saw bloody pallid long hands trying to reach me, even a voice to scream none
L could produce a mirror of a broken piano, a single press collapse to no existence.
Big eyes of red, big two ivory like horns Ghost’s goblin devil easy description.
At almost being touched fainted collapsed l don’t know Enchanting and scary scene
a full bag make me brag and long for next Halloween.

Copyright © Jack Tawanda | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

time

whimsical lass in a calico dress
holding hat on head
of a bob-cut tress

looking for one daisy in
a autum wheat field
.....and finding instead
an old wagon wheel

tom-boy/lady in between
hayrides and romance....
just looking for fun
she is a halloween queen

lovely lady in a long white dress
with slender white fingers
delicately holding a orchid
bouquet...

she looks at her love 
with his strong lean face

fine old woman
in a blue cashmere......
holding her dreams
against the tick of the
clock

stooped old granny
watching for him
lighting a kerosine
lamp .....
she
keeps supper warm 
on his t.v. platter.

janetta

Copyright © janetta harrington | Year Posted 2008

Details | Epic | |

Castle on the Hill

I took my children in October
To a castle in the hills.
We were enchanted by its splendor,
Awing grandeur and strange thrills.

Purple plumes of smoke were pouring
From big chimneys in the sky.
The silver moon came out of hiding.
Scary bats began to fly.

I told my self I couldn’t go on
With those bats flying around.,
But with my children so excited,
I simply could not let them down. 

I heard moans and groans  and cackles
Coming from those castle rooms
And I thought I saw some witches
Flying wildly on their brooms.

I gathered up my children
Fearing that one could be lost
With ghosts and goblins in the castle.
That would be too high a cost.

So I took them to a motel
Where live folks were all about.
Real spooks on Halloween is something
I for one could do without.

I took a head count of my children
And I seemed to have one more
Than I had when we went bravely
Through that big old castle door.

I took him with us trick or treating
Up and down the city street.
He was already dressed in costume,
Eye holes poked into a sheet.

I got them ready for the bathtub
Before putting them to bed
And to help the little stranger,
Pulled the sheet from off his head. 

I dropped the sheet and left it lying
Upon the bathroom floor.
When I turned to bathe the urchin
He was not there any more.

The next Halloween my children
Went trick or treating once again.
I counted twice, and there were four
Where only my three should have been.

So it’s been forever after,
Just the same each Halloween
I take my children trick or treating
With another in between.

He’s just as happy as the others
With his bag of candy treats,
But when I try to free him of them
He’s not there beneath the sheets.

I am hoping when my children
Such small pleasures have out grown,
I’ll still have that little stranger,
I need not trick or treat alone.

    

  ( I took one from my past and changed it a bit to fit.  It is not absolutely new.  You 
didn't mention if it had to be. all new.  I can remove it if necessary.

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

My cousin chaos

My Cousin Chaos

What cousin incest I am my own chaos
too much unpredictable prediction not to be cosmic
comical maybe the anarchy the drive for comprehension
and so much honest serious hilarious enjoyment

I am related to myself brother in arms mind and legs
on the journey to what where and because of 
which fallacious fragmentation reconstructed
polar posited complementing contradictions 

She or he who searches seeks the clown jester uncertain certainty
father mother sibling offspring un-othering completion
takes domination pseudo-science’s conjectures
concatenating refutations of the blinding path and vision

The butterfly who flaps the wings the roots to fly
propels the grounded theories of places times 
in foresight hindsight blind-sight sentinel sensation
full of telling meaning narrative enlivened imperceptibility 

Embraces cuddles rejects rejection rediscovers lost
and lonely loving horizontal longitude the lateral
collateral imprisonment of iron cages rational irrational
emotional confinement liberation freedom from and of

Enshrines in effervescent transcendental condensation
of what perspires inspires transpires in the illuminated
darkness boxes ignorant lamenting shallow high rise entities
makes love to sensual cognition consensual chaos

Or is it co-sin cuisine havoc’s Karma dishy chaperone
and chastised illusion disordered fusion fission 
elemental monument harmonious disintegration musky 
tall minuscule order rising falling standing firm

When thereafter now again before and yet again I loose
the plotting pot containing potty madness sane insanity
I ask my cousin and the loopy loops and square shaped circles
question the Universe that stays aloof precise and altogether mine

02nd June

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

Details | Bio | |

On Halloween Night

On halloween night, 
Vampires, goblins and zombies delight. 
They feast on your flesh, 
Drink all your blood, 
They even eat your brains,
And listen to you suffer, 
And scream in pain,
As you can not escape,
And no one can hear you, 
Because no one is around to save you,
So now your history and gone for good,
On this cold and gloomy halloween night.

Copyright © Brenda Barricklow | Year Posted 2011