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Evil Fear Poems | Evil Poems About Fear

These Evil Fear poems are examples of Evil poems about Fear. These are the best examples of Evil Fear poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |


It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents,
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.
Witchery or voodoo’s domain, it is a place of salvation for
Spiritual challenged, listen to the beautiful music they make,
Singing within this their walled cage of brick and mortar, these
Ethereal victims lost.
Here in peace they wait for the light to find them, a waiting chamber,
Of the lords misstep souls, those whom walked off the righteous path,
Yet are not without redemptions wanton of need.
Wanders of limbo’s astral plain, seekers whom roam blindly until 
Finding a doorway threshold, then crossing over, into this the house
Of spirits.
A corridors slender passageway, a way stations layover for those tired
And weary travelers to rest until their final journey’s end comes for them,
Sanctuaries power house of the supernatural.
Behind these red doors dare not the mortal flesh clasp the gilded knockers,
For within are things of the unspoken variety, creature protectors waiting at
Bay for the stray intruder to wander forth upon this sacred ground.
Angels kindred brethren whom seek out evil, destroyers patrolling the
Darker shadows for night stalkers whom wish to feast upon the forsaken.
But light’s white power is a mightier force to be reckoned with, and vanquished
Will the devils spawn into the depths from which they came, into the bowels
Of hell shall these demons be thrown into the blackened pit from which they came?
In the twilight’s ethereal hour, a mid-ways breaking point between light and dark,
A shimmering glow strikes this standing watch tower of abandonment’s forgotten,
And heaven’s flood gates are opened unto them, calling these the lost upwards
Towards nirvana and at last know true peace.
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents.
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.



Copyright © cherl dunn

Details | Free verse | |


Does the past really matter?
 Does it set you free? 
I’m absorbed in the sin,
That is surrounding him and me. 

Lost in the curiosity,
Cold to the touch. 
Drenched in the poison,
With my dignity in his clutch.

Feeling like I was cheated;
I chose the evil instead of light.
I traded in the sunshine,
For what lurks in the night. 

I disobeyed his orders,
I gave up security to be unsure.
I went against the warnings,
Gave into darkness instead of remaining pure.

Once my bed was made of soft grass,
But now it is made of stone.
Was plump from all of the luscious fruit,
Now I’m starving to the bone. 

My curse is one of circumstance.
The punishment a crime,
I’m stuck inside this dampened cave,
For the rest of time. 
My world came crashing down,
The grief has not subsided.
My heart broke completely,
When my sons collided. 

My misery a token,
From the abandonment I earned.
Upon the time spent in sorrow,
There was a lesson to be learned.

Have I found the moral?
Only in time we shall see,
For all I did was eat an apple-
From the Knowledge tree. 

Copyright © Alyssa Waters

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Mind of a Serial Killer

I have a thrill and a high profile skill
I must have dominance I will get your full confidence
I crave for lust even though you disgust
I control all things with you as you go on a stroll
I will make you bow down to me this will be your downfall
I am very intelligent as you become very diligent
I will stalk you as you start to feel distraught
I'm just your neighbor, or maybe a co-worker
Do You Feel Me? Do You Want More?

2/3/15  T Reams   copyright  Contest: 5th Place 

Copyright © TAMMY REAMS

Details | Rhyme | |

A Day In The Park

In the park, I’d been all day
Reading all my time away
On a park bench did I sit
Until the sky became twilit

As light for reading began to wane
I heard the tapping of a cane.
And looking up, to find that sound
‘T was an old man which my eyes found

Bent of stature, with shuffling gait
And cane helping support his weight
He moved toward me in twilight glow
The beard he donned was white as snow

His hooded cloak there in place
Hid from view his bearded face
But … he moved on steadily 
And closer then he came to me.

My gaze shifted to my book
As his passage overtook
My presence and my train of thought
On that park bench I had sought.

Then, unexpectedly,
I found the man right next to me
The hooded shroud was still in place
Preventing me to see his face.

Without a word the man sat down
And to my face that brought a frown
This bench I wanted not to share!
Yet he sat down without a care.

In protest was I about to speak
When he lifted his hand antique
And then in voice commanding low
“I’ve something you should know”.

By his voice was I hypnotized
My entire being was tranquilized
I stared at antique hands so pale
Then began the old man’s tale:

“You’ll find a house not far from here
Filled with loathing, filled with fear
And you might wonder how I know
My presence here makes it so”.

“The house, it sits on Wilsons’ Hill
All abandoned, cold and still,
Trees stay barren, grass won’t grow
And constantly do ill winds blow.”

“Birds won’t fly, dogs won’t walk
Stray cats don’t even stalk
Across or near that House of Hate …
Listen now … it’s getting late!”

“From deep within that house at night
Emits an eerie, glowing light
Oh, that light … I know it well,
It’s emitted - straight from Hell!”

“Once a man of youth was I
Having aspirations to the sky,
And senses of immortality
And those of curiosity.”

“‘Twas one summer long ago
On a dare I was to go
Walk inside that House of Hate
Then return to re-instate,”

“My belief and then decree
The house contained but normalcy.
I took the dare - I walked inside,
And since then … I there abide.”

“Now, ’tis only once a year
That I’m allowed to quickly veer
Outside it’s walls, and rusted gate
And find someone to share my fate”

“To embrace the horror I’ve endured
To expand the evil I’ve assured
To return with me and be my mate
And share the Evil House of Hate.”

The old man then turned his head,
And as I looked, with growing dread,
His hooded shroud moved in place …
At last I saw his bearded face.

Within two hollows dark as night
His eyes were embers burning bright
And just before he cast his spell
In those embers I saw Hell !

Reaching forth his ancient hand
Whose touch would be my deadly brand
I jumped back, as I screamed
I was quick, but slow it seemed.

I grabbed the cane, swinging hard
And caught the man quite off guard
I heard the thud, and filled with fear
For his status was now unclear

But … for all the things I feared
I found the man had … disappeared.
No shoes, no cloak … it was plain
Left only was his walking cane.

Many years of time have passed
And I can tell you now at last
‘T was the cane that held my fate:
I live now, in the House of Hate.

And now, too, I will stride
Through that park and take a ride
On a soul of someone there
And to you, dear reader, I say … PREPARE!

Copyright © Jack Clark

Details | Ballade | |

Men of shame

Men of Shame

There’s a kind of sickness going round
That makes man act cruel.
He lives in a sordid little world
Creating his own rules.
Ruling with an iron fist
Cause power be his thing
Because his minds is very small
Such misery he brings.

His women have no rights at all
For they be mere possessions.
This ugly kind of human being
Has failed he all those lessons
That teach to act with decency
And treat a woman well
This evil man he treads a path
That leads him straight to Hell

His lady shrivels up so all
As he breeds within her fear.
He’ll raise his fist to bully her
Then say he holds her dear.
She doesn’t know just where to turn
She is caught within his trap
As he treats her like the enemy
And makes her life like crap.

Now when I meet a man like this
I look at all his shame
I don’t care about his childhood
It’s only he to blame.
He takes a Goddess, stops her flow
And bends her to his will
This man is such an evil beast
Maybe, he’ll even kill.

Written in 2003.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Tired of Explaining

Tired of explaining      (a twist from ND. poem)

Ignoring the presence of my stillness==
As you walk with bitterness== 
Your radiance is no longer true== 
A melody with seduction over due== 
The song so bad wiped out by you== 
Rotating my abdomen== 
From the soul==
The worms inside== 
They all die==
Under your control== 
Separating the way==

Is as if though== 
All the beauty in the world== 
Up and lived==
You are more than I need== 
Drowning in my own abyss== 
Judging you one==
Right after the other== 
A hellish so profound== 
Revelations passed so suddenly== 
Expression of limbo, I replay== 
The revenge== 
The revoke== 
Suffer catting my oxygen==

They illness== 
Then lifeless== 
They identify== 
Then disgust== 
Never play the sensitive== 
Feel my needs==
Like the wound full of abscess==
A sore to never go away==
Yes like the illness== 
Then lifeless== 
Dropped addict== 
These shivers down my spine==
Identify, escape, abuse of certain== 
Announcing it even more== 
Proof that I am found== 
Out of love==
The mind finally receives==
Revolution with open eyes== 
The heart is trapped to proceed== 
Cleverer than the open skies==
Old sweat glands in my hand== 
Retiring the mind== 
The best of my heart has no stand== 
Died from your retrieving cries== 
Advancing to my knowledge== 
The darkness that you lend== 

In the depth of your eyes ==
I run before you hypnotize== 

Oblivious to the Valley of your wits==
Refusing to relive the song== 
Feeling that are gone==

Never will it feel right==

I still feel the rotation==
Exhale went out your soul== 

Exiting far from sight==
Revoke an end to your light== 

A kiss of death to your good night==
A kiss of death to your good night== 

(To: Nathan Dilts my way of explaining love over due)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Free verse | |

My Hell

I fall down
deeper and deeper
into oblivion
only darkness.
the sounds of evil
dripping into my ears
slithering farther
and sliding down into me
filling me with echoes.
terror courses through
my veins
into each cell
turning them against
they are no longer mine
they follow another
a stronger being.
icy breezes come
they whisper to me
they say I'm bad
they call me to them
the breezes dance
hug me
covering me
hiding me from the light
shielding me from hope.
falling deeper
only down
my eyes are taunted
I see people
the ones I know
they are hurt
by me
I have betrayed them
left them
I am hurting them
it is me
but I can't stop.
my mind is plagued
new thoughts
 every second
comes a new terror
a cruel joke
all a prank.
only deeper do I fall
light is disappearing
becoming dimmer
fading fast.
all a game
for one person
the puppeteer
the ringmaster
the man in the
the one who is running the show
the show that is me.
he sees me falling
he laughs
I can't see him
but he is there
teasing my brain
taunting my senses
he hates me
he wants to hurt me.
he throws it
the knife
I feel the pain
running up my leg
showing my bones
releasing my blood
it is blue
my blood is cold
it splatters my face
sprinkling my features
dotting them with blue
the blue liquid drips
jumping onto my tongue
I taste dirt
my blood is dirt
blue is all I see
blue is all I become
I am blue
blue is me.
a distant shout
who is it?
a cry for help
the sound is mangled
the sound is mine
I shut my mouth
but I still hear it
chilling my blue blood
ringing in my ears
shaking my breathing
jump-starting my heart
then it's over
the scream has ceased
and silence returns
sounding more deadly than ever before.
still falling
only black do I see
the evil
the monsters' playground
the demons' joyride
and someone is hungry
it wants me
my innocence
my purity
it wants to take it
it feeds on people
people like me.
objects hitting me
ghosts' fingers prodding me
as I fall
I fall down
down into this never-ending hole
this abyss
for eternity
yet full
filled with misery
my worst fears
come back
how did he know?
he knows I'm afraid
the darkness
doesn't help me see
I can't see why
how does he do this?
they cut me again
spilling my blood
oh, the blue
I don't even feel it
I am numb
the sound of me
my skin
being sliced
a quick slashing
and they are done
I am cut
my legs
my arms
my stomach
my face
my neck
I can't see my blood
but I can see how evil it must look.
the thoughts that fell
fell down with me
they too
are damned
they talk to me
they tell me what they see
they can see
yes blue
my cold blood
it is everywhere
I am pale
I look sick they say
oh, no
they say
oh, no
they see the bottom
be ready
they say
be ready.
I fall faster still
slowing for nothing
for no one
being pulled down
the puppeteer has me
he's got my string
and he's pulling
with no sign of letting go.
now I hear a song
they all sing it
the notes are cruel
they bump into the others
struggling to be heard
with no set order
it is musical chaos
he yells to me
it is beautiful
and he sings along to his song
it's made for me
musical notes are played
they come up to me
they greet me
they jump
right into my cuts
surging into my blood
they search inside me
no mercy
moving faster
the drum
keeping them steady
pounds faster
picking up tempo
they found it
they found
my heart
my soul
the music does the talking
it says to hush
hush now
slow down
my heart listens
and I get sleepy
just stop
they say
just stop
the music is evil
played by the man
the man in the mask
my brains sends
a message
one final request
it says to my heart
speed up
it says
speed up, can't you see?
she is dying
it says
you must speed up!
I still fall
with no way up
letting go of hope
why dream?
dreaming of being saved
when I already know
I'll only be dropped.
I smell
something burnt
oh, no
I know what
that smell
it is flesh
not mine
but belongs to someone else
someone close
they too
they smell of dirt
sinners burning
they are nothing to me
they are the stench
in my nose
nothing more
the smell overcomes all
all the other senses
until it becomes me
and I burn too.
even in the dark
the black
I see something
blacker than black
they are shadows
they mock me
they play
they sing
they dance
they laugh
I fill with evil
a longing to hurt
hurt the ones behind it all
without warning
I hear him
my pain
is his pleasure
oh so dark
it's over
I'm at the bottom
laying on the cold ground
in a small ball
too weak to stand
in a pool
of dark blue blood
I hold myself tight
I can't trust
these creatures
these beasts.
he likes my weakness
he tells me I am small
I am ugly
I am worthless
I am nothing
he laughs when I cry
I thought that
just maybe
it would be better
down here
instead of up there.
it's not.
hell is not a game.
death is not an
easy way out.
do not try to visit me.
do not try to rescue me.
for I am more lost
than I hope you will
ever be.
now that I am
at my fate
at the entrance to hell
at the bottom of this grave
of my eternity
and if I am truly
here forever,
I'll have plenty of time
to ask myself
why did I jump?

Copyright © Allyssa Pate

Details | Quatrain | |

All Hallow's Moon

Oh souls that brave All Hallow's moon
whose shadowed face would bid us swoon.
We stare upon your ghostly veil
a-flight on twilight's empty trail.

And yet, we delve where darkness daunts
to fathom mystery, know what haunts
our souls when comes October's tide,
where fear and anguish both abide.

Each hidden passage, road or rill
we spy while walking makes us chill.
Gray shadowed wings on ghostlike trees
make heart and footsteps quickly freeze.

All pathways lead where horrors thrill.
The heart is numbed as is our will.
Frail steps draw close toward the lair
where phantom talons might ensnare.

How long until we're safely home
free of this mental catacomb?
These questions spin within our head
as we trek fully gripped by dread.

How do souls flee such grievous fright?
Oh moon, postpone our dreadful plight.
Deliver us to warmth and home
from black enigmas in the gloam.

Copyright © Brian Baumgarn

Details | Free verse | |


Voices bottled up, far away…out of reach
I still hear them, echoing in my brain
I try not to believe the fear—the disdain
So long I have avoided their gaze, 
But here they are again, at a distance—
All ablaze!

I toughened my shell that night,
From the amplified words drenched in my hands
I cried so many tears for no words came
Unionized by grief and frustration,
How could I ever embrace such abandon?

I thought I could recognize by the fruits
As they were right before my eyes
But within their very cores,
Tears blur the rotten cries
The very words and deeds unspoken—untold
The very truth you tamper and mold
As fists clench—as confused youth look on!
He fashioned you with gold! 

I hear gleeful harsh warnings—poetry—of the collateral damage of my brothers
Running up and down the streets—rampant to get at others
I try to see the beauty in every single shade
But now, all I can do is pray

Voices bottled up, far away…out of reach
I still hear them, echoing in my brain
I try not to believe the fear—the distain
So long I have avoided their gaze, 
But here they are again, at a distance—
All ablaze!

All I can do I can do is pray
All I must do is pray

As the fumes of the anger light up today
Destroying all trapped inside
Splitting the atoms of our faith
I promise you will fall!!!
How gleeful you all are!
I promise the unity is all a dream
Nothing’s like it seems

Inside, I feel blood boiling, but I cringe
Refusing to add to the chaos
My voice box bludgeoned by their fears 
Replaced with stranger’s tears

Too long have I avoided my gaze
In the mirror showing nothing but the hardened
Unable to recognize the rot within
I stay…I pray
Until true words heal and answers free
And the rest I leave in the hands that see

Here they are again
Within me, around me
Surrounding me
Frozen—cold… unfeeling, BOLD. 

He fashioned us with gold
He fashioned us with gold

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | ABC | |



Don’t put your view all are blind
They can’t see ten or nine
They have determined they can find
Solution is already all know shrine

Bereave is not necessity it always dawns
Scarce barks all the day as unwelcome guest
Put your disguise on your veil
All viewed your deceitful hay

Shame on you for being that that
Looting always day by day
Poor creatures are suffocating
Swallowing your poisonous play.

Copyright © Deepak Chalise

Details | Free verse | |

Instincts And Innocence

He capitulates at the fringe of an old song replaying in his head 
the droning message that plunges into his brain so eagerly  
Drowning in the abyss of his sick desire, is a molester's mal-intent   
He fingers the soft ribbons around the dolly's dress and  
waits in anticipation for a little girl who does not notice him    
She is absorbed in play and is oblivious to the sleek black sedan 
parked discretely a few feet away.   
He steals another furtive glance her way, "Patience" he mutters 
to himself.  He hears the creaking of a front door and a 
blond woman staggers out of the house and yells at the 
child "You get in here right now!" her eyes are unfocused 
yet something changes in her stature, perhaps she gained  
a sense during her early morning stupor.  She retrieves into 
the house, she is in desperate need of obscurity. 

He is about to take off when something in the upper window 
moves.  It might have been a figment of his imagination but 
as the tiny rays of sun creep through the faded red curtains
he could swear he spots a tiny elfin figure standing still. It isn't  
long before she shows up again.  This time she is dragging 
a duffle bag way too big for her tiny arms to pull.  He quickly
gets out of the car and offers her the dolly and a big sardonic smile.
It was easy to snag her she was way too trusting   
and way to young to understand the gravity of the situation
He flings her effortlessly over his shoulder as she loses 
grip on the doll and lets it fall to the ground  
He speeds down the street at neck breaking speed
with the child banging her fists at the glass. 

The sun turns an amber gold and gives birth to a thousand tiny tears  
The wipers swish back and forth at maddening speed, and the child sleeps
sedated  in the back seat
Born in innocence, dead by deadly instincts.  

The End....

For Justin's Contest: Instincts of innocence 

Copyright © Mystic Rose

Details | Rhyme | |

Put a bullet in my brain

Put a bullet in my brain
as the rain sweeps her out of my arms
and places her into another's.
Put a bullet in my brain
for I don't want to see love slip away
please end my suffering,
for I don't want to dare see her in the arms of another man.

I fear the tear that slips away from my soul
and touches the ground with a splash
as she is washed away by the lashed memories of the rain,
please, someone put a bullet in my brain.

I can't bear to see her with another man
laying in his arms
as he charishes her beauty
just like I did to her.
As she smiles and laughs at his jokes
my heart would not bare the sorrow and pain
that would tare my heart apart into pieces of tainted love.
Please tell the rain to stop,
as the pain grows when rain comes down,
please someone end my suffering,
put a bullet in my brain
and stop the rain
that washes away every memory of her.

Stop saying you miss me
and just kiss me
for I can't take the pain
of the rain that takes you away.
Kiss me and stop saying you miss me
for those are useless words to me.
Love is where it's at, so show me.
Don't go with him, he'll treat you wrong.
Love and laugh with me till the break of dawn
as we yawn the long night away.

Kiss me and don't say you miss me.
For if you go away from me,
I couldn't bare to take a tear and waste it away.
Tears, sweet tears crying for you,
doesn't that mean anything to you?
I ask you, stop the rain,
stop the pain and put that bullet in my brain.

Let the red blood flow from my temples.
Let the plow dig my grave,
for I can't bare to see you with another
in his arms, him kissing you, where I kissed you.
I can't take it, I have to make it,
make that pain go away.
Prayer didn't help, God turned a blind eye
when I came up and said why!
Put that bullet in my dome
and when I lay in the coffin, looking at the roof of the church
you come and kiss me, and then you can really say
that you'll miss me.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Classicism | |


Oh what a mistake I have made,
Traveled so far to end up this way.
  Not in a million years would I have guessed,
That this idea was truly not one of my best.
  Never had  known things had changed so much,
We for sure had fallen so far out of touch.
  So many different do's , don't , and bewares,
Actually has left me absolutely  scared.
  What a fool I was to ever believe,
That she would ever be in love with me.
  At my age you would think I know better,
You can trust this will be remembered forever.
  Oh what a terrible mistake I have made,
Wanting all these memories to just fade away.


Details | Alliteration | |



Berty Beaver, he was quiet
He never said too much
Yet Molly, Berty’s little wife
She mouthed off just a touch
She’d always threw her weight around
And poor old Tiny Tim
 He got a slap most every day
And times his days felt grim

Molly, well she was his mum
And though she loved him so
She always had to nag someone
And give them a cuff or blow
Tim became a poor young man
And shrunk from every one
And as the bully’s hung around
More evil did get done

His mum she says ‘now that’s not on
They don’t do this to my son!’
And she goes running to the school
Oh, she’s an angry one
She glares the teacher up and down
And lets her know who’s boss
Teachers try hard to placate her
Though, they only suffer loss.

Then Tiny Tim, comes running in
And says right to his mum
[Frustration snatching fear away
No more his mouth hangs numb]
‘Look Mum, at what you always do!!!’
He says with voice stern
‘If you’re a bully too, then how
Will us kids ever learn.

28 June 2013 @ 1727hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

Every body's New Year


There is something, something going on
No one knows it, but something is wrong

Everybody  around to end the year
Celebrating this year last cheer
Counting from 10-1, forgetting 2012 is near

The ignorance of this world has hit again.
Spreading happiness through every window pane
Sending hugs and kisses to every friend
Forgetting the feelings of the times we felt insane

Relaxing to the joy we create.
Acting like we enjoyed every day.
Passing smiles on this one day 
This day, the whole world celebrates
For this one day we all await
Asking to shake the hands of the ones we hate
Forgetting about the worlds ~2012~ due' date
Cheer from me before it gets too late
Kiss, Kiss, Hug, Hug
Happy new years, everyone!

By-gones~ be bygones
Cheers, cheers, toast your beer.
My new resolutions list is here.
In one blink of the eye its over 
And a new year begins..
Look at it this way,  we have 365 days.
To say life stinks all over again.
Happy new years to that, my friend!!

 ~   SKAT  ~

Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Haiku | |

No Fear

Evil's popular,
But I will do the right thing.
If caught, so be it.

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Dramatic Verse | |


The wall of horrors was never to be addressed.
I watch these monsters emerge as marvels.
Ten little white thumbnails aglow were detached setting in two rolls.
A short man stood by himself with such a pose.
There was a giant of a man in the line of the wall very composed.
These monsters would visit my house for what I do not know.
However, on this particular night, my skin begins to crawl.

The wall of horrors was never addressed even with my grandma being of Irish blood.
The short man that stood by himself was a Black leprechaun.
He would just stand there and show his rotten teeth.
I would shout out to him who are you to be.
The giant would not move one inch.
The little white thumbnails were also men.
Let me now mention the black goblin who eyes were effervescent.

The wall of horrors was not addressed.
On this particular night, I became rigid.
Hair follicle felt in the arms cause me to jump up and run.
In the front room, I went to tell my mother about what I see.
She told me go to bed.
I was an obedient child and went as she said.
Fast asleep, I desired; however, I only closed my eyes.
I will awaken, as day broke, with new profound knowledge untold.

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Park Bench Ghost

Why am I emerging from the dark 
Staring at a bench in City Park. 
Breathless air without a bird in song. 
So I sit, unknowing, yet belong.
Sudden waves of anguish flood my mind. 
Feral, vicious, senseless bursts of time. 
Then a calming whisper fills my ear
And my reason now, for being here.
Minutes of my final day proceed.
Mockingbirds and peanut squirrels to feed.  
Speckled sun through breezy treetops sway 
And two hidden figures inch my way. 

Choking arms, a weakness, loss of breath; 
Forced behind a thicket to my death. 
Off they bolted free without a trace. 
Now I'm vengeance. Patiently I wait.

I'm aware each footstep, as they move, 
But this peaceful park is where I choose. 
Soon they stalk again. I know the place. 
Little do they know the wrath they face.

Gene Bourne


Copyright © Gene Bourne

Details | Rhyme | |

The Rotten

Analysis read—and wronged—and pulled
Lulled into our idealistic mess
Words no longer ours but hung distress
Farced in carnality—they are ruled

Soundness remains what we will believe 
And all else is but tethered nonsense
Clinched tightly in unfriendly absence
Overcome in overwrought relief

The judges judge on behalf of tongue
When ears and eyes close achingly tight
And perhaps in woe we find them right
For witches sought and bound must be hung!

Lower than the softened dirt that cures
Where worms in halves blindly come to eat
The higher crush with tormented feat
And the suns scorch what is left of hers

Answers never tried—and cured to hide
They look to superior sources
The rotten are the strongest forces
Ripened and toughened with bequeathed pride

-Iambic Tetrameter
Contest: Metrical verse
Sponsor: Giorgio Veneto
Laura Breidenthal

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Ballad | |

The Alien

The Alien.
"Here's the village Idiot
Here comes the loony fool"
So many taunts did follow him
Oh kids can be so cruel!
The Alien, his face all cowed
With caution treads his way
As the gossip done, invades him every day.

He's a shade too short on mighty brawn
He's a pilgrim of the soul
He's a Sailor floating through his dreams
And he has no worldly goals
And when those kids kicked footy balls
And swore and carried on
The alien got lost  within his own song.

He's been told that he be nothing
By so many through the years
And now his body broken
Still wading in his fears
The wings have made to open up
So the butterfly may rise
And so the mighty Phoenix 
must head he for the skies.

Dec 22 2003.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Rhyme | |

Kingdom Lost

In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march  
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die, 
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone 
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is 
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown, 
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
was mistaken,
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…

Copyright © Cole Banner

Details | Elegy | |

Alien In My Own World

I’m an alien in my own world
I think only I can see from above
I see the entire Earth
I see people, but no love

I try to tell them 
They’re the aliens in this world…
This world was built to be loved
And yet all they do is hurt…

Look around…the world is round!
It is spinning for us!
For me…
Because there’s not many humans to be seen…

I know I’m not alone though
Humanity will never die…
That’s something that I know!

You created districts…
You ripped humanity into pieces
Now we’re fighting like we’re beasts
I mean…I’m from the Middle East…trust me I’ve seen…

I’ve seen the value of one’s life
Destroy a home for a dime
Destroy humanity and it doesn’t count as a crime…
and yet…I’m out of mind?

Copyright © Zeki Madjid

Details | Elegy | |

Looking for Silence

It’s so quiet…so peaceful
It’s so calm…so hopeful
It’s dark…yet beautiful
It’s…cold…yet warmer than warm
My dream is to stand there
Stand among the stars 
Stars shining so bright 
That their light reaches us 
Billions of miles away
My dream is to stand there
Stand where no man has stood
Stand where nor evil nor good has set foot
Stand where it’s peaceful….
Stand where it’s quite…
But if a human can’t get there
The only other place is here
Beneath our feet…
But death is something that will reach
Each and every single person when time comes
Weakness is giving up…
So I won’t give up…

Copyright © Zeki Madjid

Details | Rhyme | |

The Enchantress with the Greenest of Eyes

The Enchantress with the Greenest of Eyes

This lady is quite lovely and most fascinating with the greenest of eyes,
And she’ll easily captivate and bewitch all men she meets with no surprise.
This lady has the reddest of hair, long and full, with such a lustrous sheen,
And with her soft skin and a nubile appearance she looks just like a queen.
This lady’s grace of movement and mellifluous voice are most charming,
Which makes her all the more enthralling to men and at once most disarming.

Now one can see why this Enchantress with her comely visage of pulchritude,
Can make easy work of the men she meets and mesmerizes with such certitude.
This reflects that some people in life are not what they always appear to be,
And this Enchantress wears such a mask hiding her true self—for no one to see.
Since this is the reality for men who fall for this lady while making their pitch;
It will be obvious to many of them over time that this Enchantress is a Witch!

For men who succumb to the spell of this Enchantress, it’s time to pay the Piper,
And so they will now meet the real person behind her mask who is Satan’s Viper!
With powers of sorcery and debauchery supreme this Enchantress sets her goals,
Which is to sow fear in her victims—bringing eternal damnation to their souls!
For men who might meet this Enchantress, don’t look deeply into her green eyes!
This deep look will lock your soul under her evil power and bring on your demise! 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, January 20, 2015 (Rhyme)  

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Narrative | |

The Old Man

Up on a hill there was an old house and in it lived Abigail, a young lady without a spouse. One day her doorbell rang and she went to the door. There stood an old man, his head to the floor. He appeared scared and weak so she let him come in, for if she didn’t it’d be a sure sin. The old man smiled and gave his thanks, and she said, “Not to worry, there’s no need to thank.” Abigail and the elder talked for quite a long time. Sharing story after story, and soon drinking wine. The two became very good friends and laughed, and laughed ‘til night came to end. When the next day dawned, they went for a walk, down at the pond they decided to stop. It was frigid and misty, but they enjoyed the stroll because their friendship was warmer than the wind’s dreadful cold. As they stood in front of the calm, cool pond, Abigail asked, “Where do you come from?” The old man laughed a deep, dark laugh, “I come from the boneyard, the place of last breaths. I am the man, which many name Death.” The creeping old man then pulled out a knife and slashed Abigail’s throat before she could fright. Her life left instantly, her body grew cold, and the elder’s smile sparkled like gold. The pond was hungry and the old man knew that Abigail’s corpse would have to go soon. He tied a brick to both of her feet and tossed her away into the deep. As her body sunk into the watery blue, the elder stood there and felt renewed. Back on the trail the aged man went. Not a worry in mind, no remorse ever meant. He did what had to be done, to the grave his soul belonged. The elder approached another ol’ house. He rang the doorbell and waited, innocent as a mouse.

Copyright © Bruce Coates

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Choice

The World

My work is over time to head on home
Made lots of money trading stocks on-line
I told my secretary she could leave 
Askance my traders quid pro quo was fine 

I entered elevator floor nine-teen
Pushed ground floor button number one then saw
Another door to lift laid opposite
Impossible, turned ready to withdraw

The Devil's Minion

Unable to escape the way I came
The capsule doors on other side agaze
Was drawn out by a large, dark silhouette
Inside a narthex three closed doors ablaze

I listened to malefic force within
Effulgent scuttles have distracted me
With ears submitting to an evil force
On knees established I forlornly see

The Choice

The devil's minion utters chilling words
“You worldly man you face deserving death”
“You will be given one last stabbing choice”
“You get to choose a door with your last breath”

If there's a god I pray you save my soul
The dark and eldritch spirit yield a laugh
He said “each door is named must pick one now”
“Not fair” I said, he showed me golden calf

Door number one depicted the word ME
Door number two was written the word YOU
Door number three aglow with the word HIM
“What in the hell am I supposed to do ?

I looked at evil spirit's saber drawn
With my last breath I ran to a new dawn


Copyright © Thomas Carney

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Nightmare on Elm street

            "My college try at 'You're in a Horror film "

               something has taken over his spirit
                I do think I'll be his next ...

                The land line rings , I answer Hello ? a response with crackling voice.
               " Do you remember me , I am an old friend ? "

                Who is this ? I respond noticing the rain falling hard ..
                a sketchy voice response..

                I am here , can't you see me? 

                "is this a sick Joke ? as I grab a knife for protection"
                I'm calling the police ! This is Harassment ! 

                " The police are here ' ....'in a psychotic response 

                The lights go out , the lightning from the storm has
               hit a tree, I am scarred now, looking for all candles to light my way

                A loud Knock !  Again a knock , I  slam the phone down , fearfully
                 lock the door fast, yet trembling. It's as if someone is breathing 
                 a cold breath with a long finger nail running down my back ..
                Knock Knock again , I look out the peep hole, it is the police !
                 Opening the door , The Policeman says " We are checking to see
                 if you are Ok ? You need to let me in and stand behind me "

                  The policeman calls for backup to Elm Street .
                " Someone said they saw a tall man with a mask and knife enter
                 your basement , The storm has blown out the electricity, lines are down "
                Grabbing the cordless, I respond " someone just called , scarring me! "
               That is not possible , these lines have been down for hours , the person 
                 driving by called prescient on a cell. 

                    I try to get a line and the phone is dead ....

                 The policeman is searching the home with a flashlight .
                  As he goes into the Kitchen I see a large knife in his Back shirt ,
                  Now he is laughing ..the phone rings ..

                         'you're in a Horror movie contest '      

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Ballade | |

The crime and the punishment

He had a  dream ,then many more
When he was just a lad
But school, and all those bonds it tied
It slowed him down a tad
And all his dreams did fade away
As the bullying went on
Till, a sad but gifted boy
Got lost in a darker song.

His father had his own dreams
He did not care at all
That the only way to be with kids
Is bring them up with rules
Yet love them more than life itself
He scorned the boy all day
And all his youth, and joy in life
Was swept out of the way.

As This fellow did grow up
They brain washed him, those ones
Who called themselves his family
They gave him knives and guns
And taught him hatred well disguised 
In the mask of their beliefs
And all the boy did ever know
Was misery and grief.

It started off with road kill beasts
He found upon the roads
Dissecting them he found was fun
When he was in that mode
His mind it so intense would grow
Yes death it was his game
His sad young mind was growing up
And soon would come his fame.

He started hunting with his guns
Any creature that did move
It seemed that he to all the world
Was out himself to prove
Then he got bored ‘Oh what the hell’
The creature told himself
‘I need to do some bigger stuff
He was low on mental wealth.

First it started, one young girl
Who was wandering alone
Became the victim of this fellow
Although with heart of stone
He charmed the lady with his manner
Then took away her life
Causing to those folk who love her
A heap of mental strife

But then with the passing of the weeks
Another girl was slain
Then another, and another
The fellow was insane
But now he sits there in his cell
A gentle little fellow
Who when a person talks with him
Is always kind, and mellow.

He lives in hell, yet no one knows
And no one cares at all
His night mares have caught up with hin
He’s acting like a fool
All cowering and quivering
The furies they are here
And now he suffers awfully
His mind all filled with fear.

And folk call out, ‘give him the rope!!’
How little these folk know
This mans descending into hell
And his fear can only grow
His Karma it does follow him
He has nowhere to go
Yet maybe from insanity
A good seed well might grow.

15 June 2013 @ 1920hrs

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Diamante | |


Devil Dark, evil Twisting, manipulating, tormenting Struggle between right and wrong Persuading, reassuring, convincing Light, righteous Angel

Copyright © John Michaels

Details | Epitaph | |

The End Day

At the day of tribulations'  
Reckless deeds and end
            Of time
Your consternation
       Beguiles' me
And is relative to me
     The Lord is He
The maker of mammon
  Hath made his bound
           Of inequity
The trove and treasure
          Of the unholy
Which the unholy of thee
      Shall never resist

Gary Fields
Poet Author

(Rev. NOV2013)

Copyright © Gary Fields