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Best Halloween Poems

Below are the all-time best Halloween poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of halloween poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Halloween Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Halloween poems are below this new poems list.

From Halloween To Christmas In A Minute by Schumacker, Earl
Halloween Girlfriend by Diamond, Seth
Halloween Night by Goodson, William
Hell's Halloween Ball by Johnson, Ernest
The Halloween Store by Carson, Tommy
Halloween Nightmare by Negron, Nayda Ivette
Wobbly Halloween by Foster, Gail
Today is Halloween by Price, Franklin
GIRLS OF HALLOWEEN by Gentry, Susan
OLD CHRIS KRINGLE HALLOWEEN JINGLE by dunn, cherl

View all new Halloween Poems

The Best Halloween Poems

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POOR PETER PUMPKIN

Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.

The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.

Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!

I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!

“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”

Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.

They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.

The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”

Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.

We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."

Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”

He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As  he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!

“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”

Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.

For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!

10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Halloween's Mask of Comfort

In a house beside the forest lives a woman and her son

He is scarred by burns and fire – hidden kept from everyone

There is land where he can wander far away from prying eyes,

But he misses friends to play with; all alone he often cries.


That is why he gets excited at the thought of Halloween

He can mix with other children without fear of being seen.

Mother picks the perfect costume that will fit his height and size

Then she adds a mask for comfort – the completion of disguise.


The boy behind the mask wishes every day was Halloween

He'd gladly offer friendship to any child who wasn't mean

But he knows that one day he will be too old for trick or treat

And he prays each morn to see the sunshine on a public street

 
Even though he realizes his wish may never be fulfilled

For he'd have to learn to avoid stares and let confidence build

After reading the sad tale of Frankenstein, he sheds a tear

As he can relate to Frankenstein and sees him as a peer

 
And so he keeps reading stories of people judged by their looks

His greatest fear is what will happen when he runs out of books


------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a collaboration between Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire



Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

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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

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Halloween's Headless Horseman

One Halloween night when I was five
Rain pelted city streets, we stayed inside

Dad lit the Jack-o-lantern candle
Told us the tale of a famous vandal

One “Headless Horseman” in Sleepy Hollow
‘Twas Ichabod Crane he chose to follow

Crane ran breathlessly, was terrorized
(At this point my father’s eyes looked wild)

Thundering behind him through the forest
The hooves of a horse and a rider headless

Carrying a sword to strike Ichabod
(Dad grabbed a spatula, swung it like a rod)

Not just we children but our mother too
Gasped at the thought of Ichabod pursued

High winds cut off our electrical power
As in our kitchen three children cowered

Orange light from the pumpkin’s evil eyes
Showed Dad seemed to have dematerialized

The youngest, I felt something run through my hair
I screamed aloud in horror and despair

The lit pumpkin fell from table to floor
Darkness as I ran through the kitchen door

Leaping into bed, pulling up the sheets
Dad snuck into my room, whispered, “Trick or treat”

So if you think I am a drama queen
Please realize that it’s all in my genes



Happy Halloween!


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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THE HOUSE OF SPIRITS

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.

BY; CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

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HALLOWEEN FUN

HALLOWEEN FUN

Carving the pumpkin, oh such fun
How they danced when dad was done

Twisted mouth with large, black eyes
To scare the kids, then pumpkin pies

Hear those darlings on the street
Tiny fingers, tiny feet

Soon they’ll ring the bell and shout
“Trick or treat.      Hand outs!”

But see old moon, he’s hanging high
A big gold searchlight in the sky

Just peeping o’er, the sun has set
With rosy, glorious hue, and yet,

A solar quake now rumbles forth
Spewing flame toward the earth

Those fiery rays have stirred the dead
The night is bright, the moon is red

Check the time – it’s nine o five
Jack O Lanterns come alive

Oh, how they cry, each frightened child
Belegged pumpkins running wild

I’ll tell you how kids went to bed
Twas in the ground without a head

Those empty gourds were hearty fed
The night was cursed, the moon was red

Moo haha!    haha!   haha!   hah OH
Haha!     haha!     haha!    HAH!

Dave Austin


Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014

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Devil's messiah

Drug addict hooker - raped violently and left for dead
Lying in a coma unaware of the seed that breeds inside
Months later a boy is born, but mother does not survive 
Unfortunate angel lets infant fall from her fragile grasp
Demons pounce to infiltrate child and slit angel's neck
What a shame he did not die inside his mother's womb
Doomed childhood lies ahead passed from home to home
Abused, raped and humiliated, voices plague demonic mind
As his foster parents molest him - virginal innocence is lost
Manic voices seduce him to murder them with brutal vengeance
No prison sentence - judge rules self defence - hellion is free
Bullied and mocked in school, voices return to haunt him
Hundreds of students die when food is poisoned with arsenic
He walks away with satisfaction - school never found the killer
An appetite to kill hungers inside him as he plots further victims
Randomly killing animals - manipulating and violating children
Thinks he is invincible perverting the streets as a free man
By chance he meets his demonic queen - to share their malady
Within the ecstasy of masochistic desires, he begs for more
He develops an acute messiah complex ready to rule the world
Demonic duo plan a barbaric killing orgy on an Halloween night
The predators ambush innocent children luring them with treats
Throw them into the basement to feast on them one by one
Hands tied and mouths taped no one can hear their cries of horror
Excited by their successful hunt - they engage in perverted gratification
Caught in a moment of passion the queen slips and breaks her neck
In disbelief and utter shock - angered he decides to set the house alight
As the house blazes - a moment of regret sets in and he tries to escape
but the smoke is too strong and overcomes him - he perishes in flames
When the fire brigade arrive they only find two charred bodies
No one checked the basement - the fire had destroyed the infrastructure
A new home was built over the damaged site - its owners unaware
The mystery of the missing children was never solved - nor their crimes
But the new house is always changing occupants - as screams echo in its corridors

The Silent One
21 October 2015






Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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- Haunted Beauty -

 

The family had just moved into an old castle in Scotland; 
mother, father and their only daughter, Emmie, that they loved so deeply. 
Emmie was only 12 years old, and so innocent and beautiful. 
One night, she was woken up by a dripping sound; 
an echoing sound of water drops in a sink; 
rhythmic and terrifying. 
She sat on her bed, and suddenly appeared a free floating arc of strange light. 
It's that time of year again: Halloween night. 
Doors flew open and shut; strange voices and footsteps started. 
She was so frightened, that she almost threw up. 
Emmie made the sign of the cross, and plunged into a thicket of thorny wild roses. 
Terrified, excited and ready to run out of the house in 20 seconds, 
she overheard whispering words: "All beauty must die." 
The voice was so deathly, that it sent chills through her spine. 
It did not make it any better that it sounded too close to her ears. 
Her nightdress being torn by rose thorns like papers in a paper shredder, 
she ran as fast as she could; not back to the old castle, 
but away from the creepy voice, and strange events 
in the old castle. 
Exhausted, she searched for a place she could find rest 
"All beauty must die" the voice visited 
her unceremoniously once more. "What do you want from me? 
Is it wrong to be born beautiful? " 
she asked, wondering where she got her courage from. 
The energy to scream or run departed her, 
the moment she saw a woman dressed in white, 
levitating in the air, and moving towards her; 
a horrid face that carried the night's darkness, 
looked decayed, with worms crawling out from it. 
Remember this is a true story about Emmie; 
she gets chills just remembering the events of that night…… 





Contest: Halloween Co-Writes, By Diane Locksley

Poem Written by: Teddy Kimathi and Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved 


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

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The Grim Reaper Cometh

As All Hallows’ Eve approacheth my thoughts turneth to darkest dread,
Whilst in old age I harboureth a deep fear of seeing this one’s grim head;
Methinks the Grim Reaper cometh this time with his scythe in hand,
Which striketh maximum fear in me and maketh him feel quite so grand. 

Death and darkness doth pervade this spirit’s intent from that great beyond,
And bringeth one a chilling fear if one’s destiny be unending Hellspawn;
All Hallows’ Eve is the image I conjureth of my imminent departure,
But I hopeth for divine intervention and protection during this departure.

For I shan’t want to feel the fear and malediction of the Grim Reaper’s gaze,
As he eerily walketh in the deep mist to bringeth my soul into that darkest haze;
I prayeth then Oh Lord God, haveth an Angel escort me on my final trip beyond,
And spareth me the Grim Reaper’s terrifying visit and his image of Hellspawn.

I asketh thy divine power and all goodness in protecting my eternal spirit and soul,
And delivereth them to Heaven on All Hallows' Eve most sound and quite whole!

Amen!  Amen!  Amen! 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - October 25, 2014
(Shakespearean Sonnet)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

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THE VAMPIRE

For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Of blood.
Then reanimated as the living undead, in mine own image,
These are my forsaken children of the Night.
Kissed by the angel of death, I'm resurrections insurrection,
Spawned in hell a creature devoid of heart or soul, yet do I
Exist, biting at the exposed throat of humanity, leaving it
Drained completely dry.
Does not the white lily turn ember red, within this the
Valley of damnation.
My throne is a black coffin gilded in golden refinement,
Residing beneath the wooden lid, the beast sleeps,
Waiting to be embraced by the darkness of night.
Slowly, emerging from mine cryptic mausoleum,
I'm famished for the taste of the living essence
Of mankind.
A gentlemen reaper of the fallen, deeply do these
Fangs penetrate into the soft flesh of humanity,
Tis a dark blessing's supernatural gift, have I been 
So given, to take life then to restore it.
Raw beasts of instinct, clinging to the ethereal
Moon, that hangs above illuminating this,
Our unholy abyss.
Welcome to a shadow nation of the unseen,
Whose roots extend backwards, to an older country’s
Unconsecrated soil, called Transylvania. 
On mine legacies crest, a red dragon with talons
Extended reaches out, grappling for powers control.
For I am Dracula, born of royal blood in life,
But in death I am a king, let these castle walls
Bleed on forever, and the hounds of hell,
Sing outside my rod iron gates.
But beware mortal flesh if you so enter,
For I will enjoy every trespasser,
Whom dares to venture within my
Sacred territory, with a fiendish smile
Upon my hungering face.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

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Blood Red Moon

Blood Red Moon

Deep devouring passions bleed now from this solar eclipse 
As black blood flows from an evil army of “undead” beings 
Whose fangs hideously and cruelly pierce the veins of their 
Mesmerized and unsuspecting victims who are held at bay.

In such silence burdens prowl inside deep sad heartbeats 
As ghastly living shadows creep eerily in and knot the 
Tortured guts of a twisted scared bloodless life falling 
Under the dark macabre gaze of the Blood Red Moon.

At night uncanny black magic spells are intoned in the 
Old Latin scripture as large spider webs cast a gloomy 
Presence and envelope now all those trapped by them as 
The misted breath bleeding hearts howl to Heaven’s roar. 

Standing upon a rugged and lonely mountain crossroad 
There can be no release from the devilish glare of the
Vaunted “Blood Red Moon” whose evil presence pervades
Every breath you take and casts a demonic derisive stare.

My senses are now frozen in place as a deep chill shakes
My soul to the very core of its primordial existence as I 
React to the cutting cold of a dawning maleficent darkness 
Invading every corner and space of my psyche and existence.

The wicked jaws of a rabid beast seek now to bite and rip
All beauty from me and all thoughts I hold close and dear 
As I gasp now for life and painfully feel my tired heartbeat 
Slow as my immortal soul numbs and cries crocodile tears. 

I’m cursed now to walk alone forever as my spilled remains 
Are cut now and my ties of human existence have disappeared 
Putting me on the ground on all fours as I ponder my ultimate
Fate in the hands of a supernatural force beyond any mercy. 
 
As the shadow of Lucifer’s Blood Red Moon passes over my
Tortured face I spy a look at one demonic siren prompting me
Now to follow her as my body is placed on a sacrificial alter
And my life ebbs away as I’m kissed by spirits of the damned!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – October 11, 2015 
(Narrative Quatrain)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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- Halloween's Evil Visage Cometh -


Halloween’s Evil Visage Cometh now alive in this famous predestined time
Where dubious shadow shades run a riot as the ghastly ghosts of darkness,
Begin calling to all goblins, ghosts, ghouls, and witches in the graveyards;
To come alive—as black cats call out their signals to all lost souls seeking, 
Powerful black magic spells to aid the spirits of ancient alchemists as they
Brew their potions to dull the senses and conjure all the evil spirits on Earth.  

A falling silver-layer mist appears as these uncanny evil spirits invade our
Mortal plane and lost ghosts appear as hungry human skeletons looking for 
Sustenance and seem to be horrified at the stillness broken by a death-cold.
They scream as bloodless fingers touch cold shivers without a warm heart; 
And who knows for sure the sad and mournful song from an ancient grave,
As “The Undead” conjure ravenous demons seeking warm blood to feast on. 

Blended into the dust are the crows whose shadows as a “Dark Phantom,”
Begin to form and take his shape—yet fear not the potent occult light as
That special Halloween Eve super moon beams brilliant and bright making  
Its presence known as your destiny and destination are already decided as
The Ancient Alchemist beckons all of us to drink widely from his mystical
Chalice of Darkness as all malice is reconciled—the birds and beasts speak.
 
Life as we know it is offered upon the Demonic Alter as the Dark Phantom
Initiates all human sacrifices as a drool-dripping envy of all existence drops; 
And the lustful and vengeance-seeking Vampires scrape along the walls as
Sharp poisonous thorns begin tearing behind their secret inner-vision as the 
Deep-dark and dismally-damp curtains open and eclipse the radiant dawn as
An unpleasant and horrible pain visits and our heartbeats grow faint and stop.

An unending agony screams sonorously as a deafening silence falls over us. 
In this “Land of the Dead,” they make their own laws overwriting all limits,
As a vile, creeping, malevolent mist crawls down into the valley deep below; 
The Devil's Advocate slithers on in a nasty, vicious way under your own skin,
As shivering timbers of truth of a living being watches outside our bodies on 
This Halloween Eve as our individual dreams enter the Twilight Zone forever! 

The Devil’s clever wizards and witches concoct an ancient poisonous mixture,
As the boiling cauldron of demonically-enhanced soup is stewed with care and 
Fresh toads, spiders, worms, beetles, ticks, and tiny black snakes are added in.
This unholy and potent poisoned soup from centuries past is now blessed by
The Dark One—to take life from the living and give nourishment to the dead,
As the veil between The Living and The Dead disappears on Halloween Eve!   

Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 1, 2015) (Free Verse)


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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Halloween's Evil Visage Cometh

Halloween’s Evil Visage Cometh

Halloween’s Evil Visage Cometh now alive in this famous predestined time
Where dubious shadow shades run a riot as the ghastly ghosts of darkness,
Begin calling to all goblins, ghosts, ghouls, and witches in the graveyards;
To come alive—as black cats call out their signals to all lost souls seeking, 
Powerful black magic spells to aid the spirits of ancient alchemists as they
Brew their potions to dull the senses and conjure all the evil spirits on Earth.  

A falling silver-layer mist appears as these uncanny evil spirits invade our
Mortal plane and lost ghosts appear as hungry human skeletons looking for 
Sustenance and seem to be horrified at the stillness broken by a death-cold.
They scream as bloodless fingers touch cold shivers without a warm heart; 
And who knows for sure the sad and mournful song from an ancient grave,
As “The Undead” conjure ravenous demons seeking warm blood to feast on. 

Blended into the dust are the crows whose shadows as a “Dark Phantom,”
Begin to form and take his shape—yet fear not the potent occult light as
That special Halloween Eve super moon beams brilliant and bright making  
Its presence known as your destiny and destination are already decided as
The Ancient Alchemist beckons all of us to drink widely from his mystical
Chalice of Darkness as all malice is reconciled—the birds and beasts speak.
 
Life as we know it is offered upon the Demonic Alter as the Dark Phantom
Initiates all human sacrifices as a drool-dripping envy of all existence drops; 
And the lustful and vengeance-seeking Vampires scrape along the walls as
Sharp poisonous thorns begin tearing behind their secret inner-vision as the 
Deep-dark and dismally-damp curtains open and eclipse the radiant dawn as
An unpleasant and horrible pain visits and our heartbeats grow faint and stop.

An unending agony screams sonorously as a deafening silence falls over us. 
In this “Land of the Dead,” they make their own laws overwriting all limits,
As a vile, creeping, malevolent mist crawls down into the valley deep below; 
The Devil's Advocate slithers on in a nasty, vicious way under your own skin,
As shivering timbers of truth of a living being watches outside our bodies on 
This Halloween Eve as our individual dreams enter the Twilight Zone forever! 

The Devil’s clever wizards and witches concoct an ancient poisonous mixture,
As the boiling cauldron of demonically-enhanced soup is stewed with care and 
Fresh toads, spiders, worms, beetles, ticks, and tiny black snakes are added in.
This unholy and potent poisoned soup from centuries past is now blessed by
The Dark One—to take life from the living and give nourishment to the dead,
As the veil between The Living and The Dead disappears on Halloween Eve!   

Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 1, 2015) (Free Verse)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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- The living and the dead -



Halloween is a time to let the imagination run wild 
Halloween is a holiday shrouded in darkness 
linked to the supernatural and known for inspiring fear 
Dress like your favorite fantasy creature 
or tell ghost stories in a dark room 
But Halloween is not just about 
to dress up in costumes and ask for candy 
A favorable time for predictions about marriage, 
happiness, health and death 
An evening of spiritualism, ghosts, vampires and goblins 
From old time it was a holiday steeped in folklore and customs 
Poisoned candies to vampires and goblins 
Carving pumpkins to trick or treating at your door 
Masks and costumes to scare away ghosts 
or to be recognized by them
Happy Halloween and good luck







31.10.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved 


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

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Around the Corner

As I walk downtown I see an alley 
Where a black cat sat staring up at me,
The sound of her purring was so soothing 
Lulled and hypnotized me how could that be.

With its green eyes lightning up the darkness 
I saw a sign was hanging that said Tea,
It seemed to be just around the corner
In an alley that led down to the sea.

I walk and the black cat seems to follow 
Awareness of her presence filled the air,
In a flash we turned around the corner 
Where stood an old stone building with one stair.

I looked to find the feline now missing,
Then climbed the step and gently pushed the door,
Cobwebs hung from rafters on the ceiling,
The wind made dust balls race across the floor.

I noticed tea of all sorts lined each wall,
The smells of herbs and spices filled my nose.
Sitting in a corner sat a woman,
Glaring at me sniffing a thorny rose.

Her eyes an emerald green that sparkled 
Her hair a shiny black darker then night,
By her stood a broom with crooked handle 
My senses told me something was not right.

I turned and ran while saying I’m sorry,
It seems I’m lost forgive me and good day,
Hearing horrid screeches I am shaking
Running around the corner in late May.

Soaked with sweat I run out to the main street 
People wonder why I’m carrying on,
As I shout loud, don’t go down this alley
I turn and notice that it now is gone.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.17.2014
For Francine Roberts Contest 
Around the Corner 
2nd


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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On Halloween Night

I hear the October winds whispering and I think it knows,
as the witching hour arrives and a harvest moon glows,
only once a year, do we celebrate death on Halloween night,
it is a time for remembrance, and not a time for fright.

As dead leaves come to life, once more, somehow they know,
on the twisted claw-like branches, I see the excitement grow,
black bats take their flight and wise owls call out to you,
it seems strange, but I imagine that they all know, too.

I ask you now, my dearly departed ancestors, to arise,
come and dance with me, there is no need for disguise,
on this one dark, Halloween night, it is the only time,
when we can feel truly alive and so morbidly sublime.

Let me wipe away the ancient moss from your tombstone,
come forth with dust and decay, your shroud and bone,
feel the warm glow from this carved out jack o' lantern,
and watch his lit, grinning soul, may it flicker and burn.

You must still remember the candy corn's sweet flavor,
and those crisp apples, with juicy bite after bite to savor,
it is only on this night when we can taste this rare treat,
and it is only on this Halloween night when we can meet.

Tonight will not be your usual haunting among the graves,
or beneath the dead willow tree, weeping, shackled like slaves,
you are free to wander, to celebrate, and honor our past,
until the morning sun rises, on this Eve that will not last.

So come with me now and our spirits will live once more,
as we roam down our old streets, and visit door to door,
let us go, and lead them all in our mysterious nighttime parade,
where we can finally be ourselves, no need for a masquerade.




Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Until The Sun Rises

No trick or treaters on the street
     they're all in bed now, getting sleep,
Candies piled high upon the floor
     collected from each neighbor's door,
Smoke rises from the pumpkin's grin
     the day's magic still burns within,
Restless spirits are set free to roam
     and find their way back to home,
An earthly reunion until the sun rises
     with those who've met their demises,
It's time for October's farewell scene
     on the final night of Halloween,
The harvest moon is setting low
     opposite the rising sun's gentle glow,
Wandering souls leave us for another year
     and say goodbye and shed a tear,
Because, they surely miss us, too
     their tears become the morning dew,
To stain the leaves a shining gold
     and welcome in wet November's cold.





Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

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The Bell House Tower

We seen a dim light upon top of the Bell House Tower
a dark shadow slipped by it in the midnight hour.

What was that? I asked my friend, I don't know
she said, but it sounded as if something has met
it's end.

The wind was blowing with such a strange howling
and all the city lights were off making it dark for
mysterious prowling.

A loud, maddening laughter rang through the air and
stood on our arms, every one of our hairs. We ran like
crazy down the alley way and never looked back until
the light of day.

The next morning a crowd had gathered at the Bell House
Tower and every one was shocked to see it was the bell
ringer who rung the bell, hour upon hour.

Not a sign made anyone sure of what happened, but we know
what we heard in the midnight hour, mad laughter from upon
top the Bell House Tower.


Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014

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One Halloween

It wasn't the usual Halloween night
Of parties and goblins, of which there'd been many
It was a year of big changes, for our family had moved
At ten years old, I was still struggling and shy
And, in a brand new school, where no one gave me an eye
I'd been replanted and torn,, forlorn and alone 
Late in October...uprooted and lost

On Halloween night, it rained and it poured
It seemed the end of the world...I was unhappy and bored
Leaving what had been so familiar and sure
Where our old street had been filled, with a million new thrills
Now, here in the boondocks, ...no one came to the door

I was dressed to go out...but storms drenched the night
My mom understood....and tried to keep bright
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 candy, the fun....   and the gift from my mom.....


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2010

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Medusa's Love

Medusa’s Love

Medusa is a hideous and vile creature of Grecian yore. 
Medusa, once a high priestess in the Temple of Athena,
Suffered Athena’s unforgiving wrath for violating her 
Sacred temple as she and Lord Poseidon made love there.

Medusa’s Love entices all of her naive human victims,
Up to that special mesmerizing moment of her icy shock,
As they end up unwittingly gazing into her evil, hellish  
Eyes and their bodies harden and turn to stone forever. 

You can never trust those Gods who relish in making
The plight of mortal man more challenging on Earth.
Once a perfect paragon of radiant female pulchritude,
Athena transformed Medusa into this mythic monster.  

As if this life isn’t frightening enough, with the advent 
Of Halloween Eve and the cold, dark nights preceding it;
Medusa’s restless spirit as this grotesque Gorgon can be
Conjured from her lair at the entrance to the Underworld.

From the hissing and viperous serpents adorning her head,
To the ever-present shaking death rattle of her reptilian tail;
Medusa’s sneering and unholy visage paralyzes her victims
As her fiery and demonic eyes bring them a stone cold death!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 1, 2015) (Unrhymed Quatrain)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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Halloween Memories


      I was dressed as a witch for Halloween that year long ago,
And with my friends we were going from house to house;
            At that time kids could still do that without fear,
Our street was perfect for Halloween trick or treating fun.

      It was a hill with many cozy old homes some heritage,
They all had big covered porches and glowing windows;
            And all were nestled behind great ancient trees,
It was a memory I cherish, one of innocence and sweet joy.

      Sometimes, I was a princess, or a ghost, or a pirate,
And other times it was hard to tell exactly what I was;
            The leaves crunched under our feet; the air crisp,
Mother told us, "only go to houses that have Jack-O-Lanterns."

      "TRICK OR TREAT!" We would yell when the door opened,
But if the person said, "TRICK!" We would be so confused;
             When my bag got real heavy, I took my loot home,
And had a costume adjustment or even maybe a change.

      At the top of the hill was an old house; a haunted house,
It was dark and rundown and had a nasty black cat hissing;
            A real witch lived there; she ate little kids I was told,
Mother said, "don't be mean, she is just a lonely, old lady."

      I would like to tell you about the old lady who lived there,
But that is a whole different story, maybe another time;
           After the trick or treating, we examined all our treasures,
Our loot consisted of candy and chips, apples and other stuff.

      I gave mother the apples, she seemed to like them a lot,
My baby brother tried to eat all my candy but I hid them;
           Mother said, "don't eat it all at once!" (mother that is silly)
The next day, "oh mommy, my tummy hurts so bad, bad!"

___________________________
October 6, 2015


Narrative


For the contest, Happy Halloween, sponsor, Kelly Deschler

First Place


Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

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The Undyings' Curse

Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star

Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw 
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries

A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought  by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn


Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

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Halloween by The Four Musky Tears


Sit tight Fright night Daunting Haunting Sweet treats On streets Dumb witch hit ditch corn maze kids craze _From the mouth of babes_ SMALL GHOST SCREAMS MOST _Toothless bites_ VAMPIRE RETIRE _Toddlers first Halloween_ BUMPKIN PUMPKIN _Trick or treat please_ CANDY FOR ME _Neighbor has out done me on decorations_ BUY MORE DECORE _welcome to the haunted house_ MY LAIR BEWARE pirate's privates push broom costume munchkin pumpkin hung bones loud groans candle vandal scary carry _the perfect appetizer _ spider slider
Co-written : Jan Allison Casarah Nance Yvonne Maurice Tim Smith


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

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Come With Us Halloweening

Come with us Halloweening.
We’ll frolic in the streets.
We’ll race from house to house to house
Spouting  “Trick-or-Treats.”

And eagerly we’ll each collect 
Confections in a bag.
Fellow ghouls, we’ll abandon you
If you even start to lag!

No slackers in OUR party
As we dash from door to door. 
Unlit locations far removed
Instinctively we ignore.

Our goal: to get all we can hold
This wickedly winsome night,
This “Hallowed Eve” of children’s dreams
For fancy and delight.

A time that kids’ imaginings 
Collectively take flight
In form of costumes of all kinds-
Of whimsy and of  fright.

For Dale and I, that’s part of the fun,
But even better yet
Is what we’ve counted the days off  FOR-
The bounty we’re going to get!

And through the dark we onward dart.
Watch as we trespass
People’s lawns, but yards with dogs
We cleverly bypass. 

And when we need to go back home
To get more paper sacks,
We drop off  treats we’ve got so far,
Then quickly double back. . . 

Until we’ve covered every block
Of every foreknown spot
That  we had ever frequented
And some that we had not!

Then good and late we homeward speed
With just a little dread,
For darkened windows greet us
And most folks have gone to bed.

We throw our candies on the floor,
So much there is to eat!
We count each chewy chocolate bar,
Each popcorn ball and sweet.

We toss out raisins, apples,
Tiny suckers, silly fruit,
Or give them to our siblings
Who received too little loot.

Then off to bed, our day complete,
We dream of how we’ll feast
Each day with glee, while savoring
Our treasury of treats.



Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

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Striking Deeply a Painful Reminder

Striking Deeply a Painful Reminder 

Striking deeply a painful reminder comes of you now.
Salt falls inside my open wound bringing untold pain.
My soul has one choice to make amidst all this pain,
Telling me the considered direction I must take now. 

Washed through a dirty ocean lining all foamed up,
We are frustrated with ourselves to no end today,
As we stand at the crossroads of our broken lives 
Asking sad, difficult questions and feeling all alone. 

Begging the wrong side for forgiveness is no fun as
We answer while looking upon two sides of a story; 
And a wounding confession of lights promises only
A flash darkness blinding out of a tragic haunted mist. 

Warm dawning radiant colors say love to us both now,
As they elicit a soothing and gentle compassion of hope;
Yet real tenderness is nothing but an illusion as deep pain
Lives inside the shadows without any remorse or apology.

Invading poison of a snake bite brings such sweet love, 
As your alter ego robs me of all my dignity and grace. 
I listen now to the stark tonal sounds of the seagulls, 
As they mix their cries over the ocean dark and deep.  

Kissing salted waves filled with the care of true angels, 
I cast now cruelly—bitter stones in the Garden of Eden,
While touching an apple once bitten never to shy away.
It’s funny how one can see such a tragedy in the daylight.  

Sacrifice a dove dancing within the light now turning dark; 
Behind the curtains a grotesque, ghastly face appears now
As the double side of your coin is exposed for all to see— 
And when flipped, the truth opens its book quite readily. 

Dropping down a snake crawls upon its soft underbelly, 
And behind the scenes people find this image repulsive,  
Since it portrays how a poisonous viper strikes fatally as
His very mask falls away for all to see his diabolical grin. 

Forbidden is the soul of who you are and want now to be; 
A sweet-talking deceiver I know too well for my own taste; 
One who really hides behind a false face but revels in his 
Deception as the dark demons mask their fear and cowardice. 
Dusk now blends into the night as death comes to life;
I realize now the hellish intent of Lucifer’s own demon
Who stares intently at me with his blackest of eyes—
I see my soul consumed now in the flames of Hellfire!

In my final strength and emotion, I drop to my knees:
Almighty God in Heaven—Save me now . . . Amen!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – October 25, 2015 
(Free Verse)


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015