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Halloween Narrative Poems | Narrative Poems About Halloween

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

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Details | Narrative |

On Halloween Night

My family had money, political power and pride, oh yes pride.
They say that pride comes before the fall, that is so true.
When I was born into the hideous world, my parents lives shattered.
Rains of glass pierced their future, stuck in the shards of sickening.
I was abnormal, not forgivable abnormal either, I was twisted disfigured.
Black tinted irises, the white of eyes tinted red; lips like a slice of a knife.
Fingerless left hand curling into my chest, and no color to my pale skin.

I was taken away immediately, only warmed by my mothers affection.
She loved me when fathers eyes showed only hated from his broken hopes.

I required blood transfusions for my body produced a vial poison.
A modern day vampire with a machine as a supplier.
I watched the world from the outside, the attic window my reward.
The suburb streets filling with families, I grew lonely and I suffered.

I watched as the streets filled with Halloween decorations, interesting.
My mind, sharp as a tack, asked my mother, "could I go out on Halloween?"
She loved me something fierce, I already knew she would say no.
My blood began to boil but I held down my fury as she punctured me.
Another needle in my arm, bruises from every poke laughed at me.
My mother, so caring, before me, held me in her arms and tears silent came.
She mourned me, the damage that father did before he left.
I became host to barbed wire scars on my neck, a knife puncture to the heart.
No matter what he tried, how he tried to kill me, I just could not die.

As I thumbed my wounds, I knew what I had to do.
Mother tried to stop me, I did not wish her harm, but her old heart stopped.
I gathered her in my arms, with the moon as a back light I walked the main street.
Step by step in the sea of trick or treaters, I did not go unnoticed,
I went applauded, the skin that I was in was a costume to the world.
And I knew what I had to do.
This town would wear masks year round. This town would be my town.
This town is Halloween Town. And I am the year round horror show.



08-29-2014
For Contest: On Halloween Night
Sp. Gail Angel Doyle


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October's Gift

It is October again, but I have another in mind
One long ago, and it brings tender memories
It wasn't the usual, of Halloween kind
Of parties and goblins, of which there were many

It was a year of some changes, our family had moved
I was ten years old...struggling and shy
A small little town, I'd been replanted and torn 
It was late in October...now uprooted and more...
A different school....a country lane....no close neighbors next door

On Halloween night, it rained and it poured
The end of the world...I was unhappy and bored
Leaving what had been home, familiar and sure
Where our old street had been filled
With Halloween thrills
Here in the country, ...no one came to the door

I was dressed to go out...but storms plagued the night
My mom understood....she saw my sad plight

She went up to her room, made up her face
She combed up her hair, until it stood on it's roots
Covered her face with black fireplace soot
She threw on her robe, and pulled on dad's boots
Crept out the back door, and to the front porch

When the doorbell rang....I jumped in delight!
Trick-or-treaters had come to our house this dark night!!
When I opened the door, at first I didn't see
It was mom, ...trying to hard, bring me some glee!
She grabbed me and laughed and pulled me to come
Out into the rainstorm....up the road we would run
We ran in the downpour, getting soaked to our skin
Laughing and yelling....such fun it had been!

Later that night, we warmed by the fire
She let me stay up....no one was tired
So cozy and warm...no longer so cold
With popcorn, and candy...and the ghost stories told
That one Halloween, on that night of the storm
Was the best Halloween....and reminds me of home.....
I'll never forget  when each Halloween comes
The gift of the fun....   all thanks to my mom.....


Details | Narrative |

On Halloween Night

Last Halloween night the candlelight stirred, By wind, a breath or something absurd, I didn't know, but dampers were closed, My nose twitched at smells decomposed. Looking around, hearing no sound Except the baleful baying of a hound, Trembling, my hand looking for a knife Found the letter opener used by my late wife. Rising, I crept to the bedroom door, To which shadows crawled across the floor Bidding me follow, so with tallow in hand I could hardly swallow or withstand To see what the shades bade me to see Behind a door locked since '93. Fumbling with keys I thought never to use, I took the one that seemed to accuse Me of the abject isolation I felt, Not to mention the decay I smelt. Thrusting the wick into the gloom, It departed as if meeting its own doom. Behold ! Only one item was revealed That wasn't there when the door was sealed - An envelope on the floor where had stood a bed Upon which she'd last lain her head. Picking it up, I nervously scanned My name scrawled in blood by her own hand ! With the letter knife I slit the flap, And just right then a thunder clap Shook the walls, the door slammed shut, And someone hit me in the gut. The smell of rot fled and her perfume At once filled the entire room. Gripping the taper, frozen in place, I raised the paper to my face And filled with dread of the dead, These are the fateful words I read : "My Darling, for nigh thirty years enlivened, Still you have not forgiven Yourself for driving me, your blushing bride, To the point of suicide. On Halloween we were married, Three days later I was buried, And you retreated, my dear spouse, Never again to leave this house. Neither have I, for since that day I have been watching, I'm here to stay. Moans and groans, silence on the phone, That was me and me alone ! This was how I consummated our vows, And so I reaffirm them now. Next year on this very night, As you reread these words I write, The letter knife will take your life, Then you'll forever be with me, your wife !" Now that very night is here, The letter knife is drawing near, Grasped in a hand I can't control. In one minute midnight will toll, Something grips my hair, my neck is craned, And I open my own jugular vein. . .
For "On Halloween Night" contest by Gail Angel Doyle Submitted September 6, 2016 30 lines


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THE OPAQUEST NARRATIVE

In Michigan, the weather can change for the worst in October.
This particular Halloween came a blizzaring.
The lights went out and in a dark, dark room, candles were lit; therein, the opaquest 
narrative was captured.
* With the shape of With figment With look I will invent the human. Through the mind Via light With aspect The being I will project. I saw sadness. It stared directly at me. I gazed back. It begins to glare. I looked away. Why am I afraid? It is an ape, a primate. With child fists, I walked toward this apelike creature and strike out. Finally, I saw more than eyes and it pounces. It is a little child as a man. My hands represented some insight. Would we fight? ** The universe stood as earth. Solar we are to the sky above. Humanity shouts with a hoarse voice. Man, woman, and child stands as an echo. God sent the demons. The sinners are all of us. Through commandment of what Hell is Heaven is not. Demons are with God. The Pacific Ocean is the end of the world. It runs east and west. Why do we not investigate this? [Because our capabilities are limited!] Are we afraid of what we will find? We discovered each other and now we hesitate. Procrastination is a thing that delays knowledge. Are we wise to seek? Demons are with God. Are we? *** Body [body] {Body}! Gut (gut)! Skin and bones wake up! I am a reincarnation of that that is not known. Many have come before me but none was as I am. I am the body for the human to gut a man. However, women are now involved and they want to be in the belly. Instinctive they are but this was only for man to do. Why do they want to be that damned fool? Unconscious to the world that they are within, one would ask self why they want to be like men. The answer becomes to fit in. What if there is one left out? The answer becomes their bodies have been gutted and they are only GI. **** The Moon has no Gods. The Sun is what speaks to us. It tells us prophesy and what the world shall become. We are mongoloid, brown and bronzed spiritual to our existence. Our tribes are of North America. A hundred plus [we] stand[s]. Our land is our strength. We fought. We won. We lost. Died from disease but gave birth once again. Our population stands now and we are healthy. The European man has given our wisdom and knowledge. Our minds are set on our economic growth. We will become political minded. Five hundred nations are we those lost tribes of our history. ***** The mockery of man is a stance of incorrectness. It transforms through government and states that your freedoms are not anything to believe in. You, as people, are nothing but possessions and no one knows who is blessed. You are lucky to be here. Your way of life is given by our nation’s wealth. We are brought together as immigrants and the natives of this country are indigenous. We cannot pretend that we are more than that. We must pedestal ourselves to unity and know that people are only structure to adhere. One came for liberation. Others came via slavery. Nomads were unbound. They let them in yet they were said to be uncivilized. Today we are unified. We are the United States of America bound, bonded, and realized. {We are gratis; free to form our own lives.} ______________________________________________| PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 13, 2014!


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Halloween Night Zombies

One Halloween night, I woke up screaming, There were many zombies around me, all furiously staring; With their burning red eyes, they were ready to smash my head; When they pulled my arms and legs, I squirmed and jumped out of bed. I ran to take my bike and drove it as fast as I could, I knew they all wanted to eat me, so I thought of hiding in the wood, While I was driving on the way, all I heard were growling sounds, With disco music, it looked like a big celebration outside the grave grounds. “Did they ruin the whole city?” that was a query in my mind, How can I get back to take my shoes and see if my friends are still around? On my way, I saw some female zombies walking with their arms stretched, I tried to avoid them, so scared to see their faces that had been wrecked. I’d finally arrived at the wood but with some bruises, I got off my bike to relieve them with hoarfrosts on leaves and branches; Suddenly, I heard strange sounds not far from the back, I saw group of male zombies… so prepared to attack! I stood, turned around and I could see them everywhere, In morass, I convinced myself to stay alert… losing my poise…I didn’t care; I ran to a long tangled vines and swung myself up to the tree, Once I landed on a big branch, a large snake hissed at me. “I would rather die being eaten and joined with those zombies.” I thought, Than to be poisoned and strangled by a snake, I tried not to be caught; I swiftly took branches to defend myself through an Arnis and Taekwondo, Then, I jumped down back to the zombies with a messed up hairdo. Everyone was coming towards me but I kept calm, With my two crooked branches, I did my best not to be harmed; Profusely perspiring… I courageously prepared myself, When they were approaching, I wondered why a zombie behind was left. As the darkest cloud revealed its full moon and the wolves howled, I recognized the zombie at the back and I cried out, “It’s my Dad!” All the zombies turned around and looked at him, At the snap of my dad’s finger, they went away with him as one team. “Wait for me, Dad, please wait for me!” I was then crying, But they never looked back anymore, all their bodies started melting; I realized that in a Halloween Night, even if it’s so scary it’s also amazing, In the darkest of its night, an angel is still there for us--protecting.
Oct. 20, 2013 8.2o am Notes: ©2013by Leonora Galinta • Arnis Sport/Jendo Arnis is one kind of a martial art sport similar to a karate and taekwondo which is also called stick-fighting sport. To know more about this sport and its origin, you can google it. ;)))) Thank you so much. First Place Contest: Halloween Only Judged: 11/9/13 Sponsor: Poet Skat Second Place Contest: Latest Poem Judged: 11/17/13 Sponsor: Poet Linda/PD First Place Contest: Story Poem Judged: 7/21/14 Sponsor: Poet Carol Eastman


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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.


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it's magic

it's magic!

A prestidigitator I know
graciously agreed to show me
how to make quarters vanish
for small children in costume
on Halloween night.

After insufficient practice 
the night came for me to 
offer the choice, "trick, or treat".

Few came by to engage in the 
uh..."hallowed" American tradition
but that is another trick.

When asked "Do you want the trick, or 
do you want the treat?",
everyone, said "treat!", much to my dismay.

The final costumed charges came up,
a probable four-year-old girl
and her younger brother in tow,
mother at the driveway.

I asked her the question, expecting 
the previous answer in return, but
to my keen expectation, she answered "trick!"

I proceeded to pull out a quarter
and do a slight bit of slight-of-hand, 
somewhat clumsily, but when I opened
my hand to drop the vanished coin
into hers, she looked at her empty
hand for a few perplexed seconds,
then began to giggle uncontrollably
- now that, indeed, is magic to me.

© Goode Guy 2012-11-01

she got the "magic" coin and a big candy bar.


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Friday the 13th


13
riding out the night 
searching for that solar storm
instead, up ahead
columns of wind 
breach the scene
green trees clobber the place 
as bedlam pulls out the white swords
and once again it's on

808 Boom! 
808 Boom!
808 Boom!

moonlight exsanguinated
even though it was full as can be
no sign of Jason Voorhees either
maybe he's graduated from the mask

this place ain't so scary
I said, 
"THIS PLACE AIN"T SO SCARY!"
(stirring up the devils)
only 15 minutes 'till we're in the clear
Saturday 14 is near


©2014 ~JSL PoetTreez Publishing


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On Halloween Night

***

   It was All Saints Eve, Halloween,
   And from my window I watched;
Children dressed in various disguises,
   Trick or treating to each house,
   Where Jack-o-lanterns shined;
          On Halloween Night.

   Inside my house candles flickered,
   The corners filled with shadow;
Upon a table was an ornate Ouija board,
   Waiting for my guest to settle,
   It was time to open the door;
          On Halloween Night.

   With our hands on the planchette,
   We asked the spirits that dwelled;
To show us a sign or perhaps a presence,
   A long silence was thick and eerie,
   Candles blew out and a door creaked;
           On Halloween Night.

   We heard a man's harsh whisper,
   I could feel his breath on my cheek;
As though he was leaning over me,
   All of us were frozen in cold fear,
   As footsteps on wood echoed away;
           On Halloween night.

   It was that very night in my bed,
   That I felt my covers being pulled away;
And I had an odd feeling I was not alone,
   I felt his open mouth hanging over me,
   Then I was screaming and dying;
          On Halloween night.



___________________________
August 31, 2014


Narrative



Entered in the contest On Halloween Night, sponsor Gail Angle Doyle

                          







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What's Fair

Who decides what's fair?
I dunno - but I can sure
Tell you what's 
NOT FAIR:

Putting out costumed morsels
On Halloween night
And having their parents or other large beasts accompany them
Some of the large ones carry mace
The worst ones
Carry wooden stakes
or CROSSES

Tasty-looking tots go from door to door
Trusting in the kindness of strangers
Who will give them candy
And toys

But not ONE will come
Into my parlor
Willingly or not

I've had a few tugs of war
Over several treats
Who tend to scream
And somebody big always
Comes to their rescue

Then they go away
WIth all their TREATS

Whilst I remain here
Alone
And HUNGRY

Now THAT'S not fair!









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