Grave Halloween Poems

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

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Details | 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!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014




Details | Rhyme |
Halloween: The Best Time of the Year

Halloween
Frightening
Everything about the nonliving
Everything about the dead
Scary stories to be said
Monsters coming out from under your bed
All in one night
All in the biggest fright
Lock your doors really tight
Trick or treat
Smell my feet
Don’t give me no rotten meat!
Candy everywhere
Scary masks giving you a stare
Giving you a scare
Toothaches
People acting fake
Zombies come and wake
Knock on every door
Abandon houses to explore
Stay safe worried moms implore
Flying witches on brooms
Wake up the tombs
You are doomed!
Pumpkins glow out light
Clock strikes midnight
Kids wandering around is still a sight
Children eat pumpkin pie
Watch movies where people die
This night is no lie
Old men hitting teenagers with their canes
People loosing their brains, all aboard the haunted train!
All humans drinking cider
Watch out for hooligan hiders
Watch out for creepy crawly spiders!
Halloween is my favorite time of the year
Everything is to be feared
Everything is a little to near

Copyright © Aidan Gilbert | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
whistling past a graveyard Devil may care, but I have no regard I walk among granite tombstones six feet below are boxes full of bones I find myself in a dark, dark room only to realize it's a witch's tomb gravedigger has bodies to retrieve on this night, Saint Hollow's Eve

Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2014




Details | Quatrain |
The Celtics called it "Samhain",
The day the Dead are seen.
The phases change their faces,
Like the moon on Halloween.

10/9/15

Copyright © Jessica Highstreet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
My beloved wife

It was the crows calling that gave the final warning on this mid October morning.
Just as the mist began falling upon the hills in a strange manner that was almost unnerving.
This morn shall be my final calling as my soul begins souring high above the clouds on this mid October morning.
Signalled by the single rose placed upon my coffin.
Not a healthy rose but one that's wilting, It's red petals fading and it's leaves browning.
It was placed upon my coffin by a loan woman who stands morning on this bitter October morning.

She turns towards home and begins walking, towards my old manor house that now stands rotting.
She passes the spot in the garden where she hid the knife the other morning, just before the police came calling.
Alerted by the chamber maid screaming upon discovering by body laying bleeding.
Murder was the diagnosis, probably by a burglar was the prognosis.
The window was broken and my jewellery was stolen.
They didn't bother to ask about the missing kitchen knife, it was all falling into place for my dearly beloved wife.

As she approached she questions what she saw, large boards placed upon the entrance door.
Upon the door a sign held by a single rusty nail, it read this property is now for sale.
Due to deceased occupants an auction will now take place, in gods grace she calls out from behind her veil of lace.
This can't be true, I felt the morning dew seep through into my newly bought shoe, she pauses for breath as she begins to think things through.
Now the truth begins dawning that it was her soul and not her body that left the hill this morning.
We are now two souls exploring, one up and one down on this bitter October morning.

Copyright © Damien Biggs | Year Posted 2014

Details | ABC |


Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night, 
from an evil source that I fear to strike. 
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices 
that when I found my stallion horses. 
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide, 
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide. 
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep 
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat 
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast. 
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.

by Keith Kadell

Copyright © Keith Relf | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
                 
                 It was the Southern French window blowing open 
                    he came in the night no word spoken 
                The eyes so sensual and piercing me as if nothing matters
                     he is all I think of now as each day I grow weaker

               I will soon die unsure of my fate 
                  my life I will give to him a offering I ask him to take
               This man so desirable with dark eyes and hair
                  even if he is not a man but a beast 
                I no longer care I submit to the last drop of blood

                 As I lay with a cotton white gown in a locked room 
                   I throw my rope of Garlic far to be seen 
                 Nothing can stop this now longing and lustful 
                      feeling like I'm in a forever dream  

                    I wait for him too enter 
                       I wait for him
                                  willing to die 
                               I wait losing my Religion
                                   The Vampires offering am I              
                                   
                          

                 " For That Archaic Poets contest " Shanity Rain 

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

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

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

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

In the elliptical nights moonshine of night, a figure of lavender
And aged white lace, roams amongst the rocky sea shore, a 
Glittering phantom of beauty most fair, walking with an essence
Of smoldering evil and the smell of burnt sulfur fumes oozing
Outwardly catching upon the chilling autumn air!
In the bushes hear the rustling, the meowing of the felines,
For this is the velvet witch the care taker of the familiars,
Calls forth unto her four pawed legions, dwelling within
 The depths of the night, as eerie eyes pierce through the
Darkened glows of the shadow realm!
Glazing hypnotic orbs set in memorizing forms, glen in the
Flashing moon lights fine point of the ethereal sheen, small
To the large, they do so come, these creatures of the supernatural
Flame, called by their Mistress the Valet Witch, of Skat County!
Rubbingly, adoring at her shifts skirts of purplish hews,
These cattish guardians of deaths resurrection, and evils
Omens of shattered dimensions, purr with utter devotions
Loyalty, to her their protector!
As the last stroking of mid-night falls, a cloaked ghostly
Image, stalks the hallowed hollows near a rippling lake
Of lost reflections, no floating silhouette is composed
From the maiden whom crosses these waters of discontent,
Against these crystal clear waves of absolute calm!
Hidden beneath this bewitching shroud of ancient mysticism,
Echoes an enchanting voice of incantations speaking in a cat-like
Tongue, casting mystical spells of worships beguiling!
At the foot gates of the pet cemetery the valet Witch thus
So stops in sudden motions stance, than raising her arms
Upwards, she utters in words of a muffled language,
To those spiritually resting within!
All the winds breathe seems to cease for an instant,
As orbital greenish lights raise from their entombs of burial,
Floating within the waiting arms of this their honored
Matriarch, this cat collector dressed in lavender and lace,
The Valet Witch of Skat County!
In the mists of death’s vaporous out lashing, the capped
Figures shroud drops upon the soils consecrated ground, 
And in the night a voice whispering is heard, almost seemingly
As if a soft purring lingering within this darkness fading,
In the twilight of dawn first rays of light!
Two by two glaring emerald eyes flash into the forests wild,
Screeching in reverence respect, for their darkened mistress
Of familiar has left unto the gates of the neither world beyond,
The Valet Witch of Skat County.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN-fictitious legend-Dedicated to Skat my youngest soul sister!





Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
The moonlight shimmered on the winding road
A chilled wind rolled to battle and smite
Slicing through the fog and croaking toads
There was a blood curdling scream heard that night

The fog's hand choked the throat of graves,
as it passed the stone bridge grasping its iron gate
Tall stones stood like marbled guards that wait
These sentries for death moonlight illuminates

A caretaker's eyes welded to shadows moving slow
A scream, a wolf's howl pierced to intervene,
the dark wings that flew by a dead willow
Frightened the caretaker, his imagination he gleans

No one knows of the caretaker's fate,
or of the shadowed wings he had seen
At each full moon near halloween,
a scream and wolf's call is heard pure and clean

They say ghosts had risen in the fog in flight,
by the stone bride with its iron gate
There was a blood crudling scream heard that night


contest Ghost Stories
10/23/14

Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatern |
================================

Hiding in the shadows, there
at the corner of my eye,
I am slowly made aware
there is someone else nearby...

"Who is that?!" I bellow then,
"Hiding in the shadows there?"
"I've no use for boogeymen!",
I yell into empty air.

One more sheepish peek I dare,
feeling harebrained to have thought,
hiding in the shadows, there
was some scare that there was not....

But my heart begins to race
when that cursed glance I spare,
suddenly reveals a FACE
hiding in the shadows there!

================================

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015

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

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |
Something’s lurking in the shadows. Something’s hiding in the dark.
Something’s out there by my window, so why doesn’t Fido bark?
Something out there wants to get me! I am losing my sang-froid.
Something wants to disappear me. I’m not being paranoid!
 
I used to have a neighbor woman--We cannot find her anywhere.
When I called for some patrolmen.  They did not show ‘cause they don’t dare!
Something outside isn’t human-- or at least not anymore.
A cannibal or psycho axeman, or just a clown covered with gore.

I’ve got the willies something fierce. Those shivers just won’t go away.
I’m not ready for the hearse. Too scared to run…too scared to stay.
Someone’s walked over my tomb, or given me the evil eye.
Something’s out there in costume--Trick or treat, it’s time to die!

Something’s out there by my window, so why doesn’t Fido bark?
Something’s lurking in the shadows.  Something’s waiting in the dark.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse |


Between these Gothic walls of mortar and stone, 
O, here with dread is where I roam, 
For the misty forms that here come creeping 
Are of the dead abroad who are not sleeping! 
They move where shadows lie 
And from behind the walls upon me spy, 
Then they taunt me and defy me, 
They come each night to try me, 
For they are not sleeping! 

They pace the attic; they walk the stairs, 
In every room they haunt, I have seen them there; 
They are the torments of my being, 
O, these wraiths that I am seeing! 
And my soul has now become their keeping, 
For the dead are not always sleeping! 

Between these Gothic walls of mortar and stone, 
O, here am I, but not alone, 
For my companions that come nightly creeping 
Are of the dead who are not sleeping! 
And in the mirror I have seen their faces, 
I have felt the horror from their embraces, 
Then they taunt me and defy me, 
And in their misty forms they try me, 
For they are not sleeping! 

O, from this mortar and stone I cannot flee, 
For too it is a part of me, 
And from the walls you may hear me talking 
Or upon the floorboards hear me walking, 
I am evermore the mist that you will see creeping, 
For I am among those who are not sleeping! 

Copyright © Robert Liam McCallum | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
Snakes came upon the garden bhour
waiting for the family for an hour 
a long journey was faced
a curse shall be placed
upon the house in the desolate side of town
its getting closer to sun down 
darkness was all around
blood started pouring from the snakes' eyes
until one dies 
the house became a torcher chamber 
there was demons and ghosts surrounding the house
as if someone was a mouse
it was odd that it was the Sabbath
the demons murdered all the family in the house
a note from hell was placed upon the door 
written in the blood of a whore 
the letter unleashed goblins and ghouls 
and other horrors that no mortal has ever seen before
they started killing each other and drinking their blood
darkness crowds the old shed 
an evil witch formed in the shed cursing the ghost out
then a tornado came and sucked the evil out
and now the town is in peace again

Or is it...

Songs from hell started playing from the sky
a thunderstorm began to emerge
but why?
was this the end 
or something far worse
could it be that the devil himself was taking over our planet
the sea started to rise 
serial killers roam free, terrorist bomb the U.S., and pollution 
death oh glorious death is all over our little earth
aliens come from above 
killing people and ripping their hearts out
and for what?
So that the government can make money?

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
From depths of Hell I hear them cry
And close my eyes as they float by.
They chill my bones I don’t know why
And think it’s now my time to die,
As my face turns green.
Some of them they hold their head
It seems they don’t know that they’re dead.
I feel so frightened in my bed,
Each time it’s Halloween.

The stench of Zombies in the streets,
Vampires sucking blood just for treats,
The Rippers head bows as he greets,
All these things they give me the creeps
And make my face turn green.
Dracula, his hair slick he grooms,
As Witches fly on crooked brooms.
In shadows hide ghost’s fresh from tombs
Each time it’s Halloween.

Goblins make such horrible sounds,
Their screeches heard all over town.
Tombstones they rise up from the ground,
There’s no relief from grief I found,
That makes my face turn green.
Frightening scenes in neighbour’s yard,
Dripping black bones from Christians tarred,
I pray that Angels will me guard
Each time it’s Halloween.


09.02.2014

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Just a thought of working with a ghost
One I knew or a guest specter
I won’t fear the unexpected and can’t boast
A spectator on this skittish November

A silent visit of a lonely spirit 
Stories to unfold, connecting the past
The strangest seems I have had more merit
A nightly cast of fog so thick and fast

Real or airy-fairy experience
Those ghosts are pent into another dimension
Free from the tussle of life and beyond deviants
Reconnecting with the living in cold attention

One evening, startled by a transparent figure
Inside a room with translucent glow
Leaning on the table, staring on a paper
Suggesting writing his own memoir


October 19, 2015

Copyright © Noel Villarosa | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

     Sun hindered sultry earth, wet mound of mossy growth, 
       Cast to my grave way too early, untold secrets held by oath.
     My cross bearing name, years untold, vines they wind, 
       Loved ones, lost souls crying, constrained, I’ve left behind. 
     Placed six feet under, to reside, by wronged eternal shame, 
       Respect shallowly given, bare tombstone, initialed name.
     Unkempt, desolate, outskirts, socially banished bed I lay,
       Once disclosed, a man’s untold secret, during night times fallen day.
     Provoking sudden panic, with “vulgar lies” by fortunes truth, 
       “Prove it” flame torches burned, sovereign citizens, absent ruth. 
     Those ideas came and went, a mistake, to share such knowledge, 
        A frightened small town life, unjust powers screamed abolish.
     Unleashed a fears throne devil, tied up “witch”, my smoke stack burned,
        Inherited genes my sisters gathered, a unions threat, conversed they learned.
      A gift of genuine beauty, I’ve stood behind these sorcerers lives,
        Through times suspicious husbands, to life’s ‘all knowing’ cautious wives.
      For my sisters they kept quiet, by sustained years, their families grew, 
        Long lived our families secret, a blood lined “witch”, for all she knew.
      Overgrown vines for years have passed, Salem nights as they have changed, 
        Life’s seasons, predicted secrets, no longer provoked by fears deranged.
      For these vines is all that’s held me, natures embrace casted shadow,
        Death speaks, my lingered voice, unspoken truth will not forego.
      Not ruled by judgements nature, for in me their roots have grown.
        Unseen, my weathered head stone, dressed in vines, I’m not alone,
      A child’s future, my leaves unraveled, jaded visions to them I give,
        My torture speaks, a hidden tombstone, the Salem witch in you, I live. 

Over grown with Vines- Poetry Contest
Dated 10-04-2016

Copyright © Chelcie Darling | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
Yeah, the Angel of Death was an ugly old Toad
In a ratty black robe as He walked on the road
Where I drove a big truck full of asphalt that day
So I hollered at Him, "Get the hell out the way!"

Then he gave me a look that would stop a clock dead
And it felt like a brick had just struck my poor head
But I shivered and regained my composure at last
So I pulled the air horn, and He jumped at the blast.

Well, I laughed and I laughed 'til I thought I would choke;
I mean, who would've thought you could play such a joke
On the Man whose sole task was to make people die
And to leave loyal dogs at their gravesites to cry?

I get mad when I think of the arrogant Creep
Who does nothing but plant victims two fathoms deep.
How the hell does He know when it's our time to leave
And to snatch us away whilst our goldfish all grieve?

But as much as I rattled the grim-looking Goon
He refused to indulge me by ending too soon
The long life that was left me to do as I like
So He settled for booming, "HEY BUD, TAKE A HIKE!"

Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Halloween tonight
Tonight I'll rise from the grave that's right.
I'll walk with my friends in an honorable sight.
Not to have fun on this Halloween night.
  
I don't drink water or beer that's right.
Only blood that will make you shake in fright.
On this Halloween night.

I'LL'cut off an arm or a leg that's right.
Maybe your head to make you a fright.
Only to have you see look like a sight.
Standing with a chainsaw behind you would be a fright.
For it's Halloween tonight.
So do not fall in the graveyard tonight.
I'm here to scare you into a fright.
To make you dead that would be a sight.
So boo it's Halloween tonight!

By Harold R Hunt Sr and Larry b zombie.
Halloween tonight
Tonight I'll rise from the grave that's right.
I'll walk with my friends in an honorable sight.
Not to have fun on this Halloween night.
  
I don't drink water or beer that's right.
Only blood that will make you shake in fright.
On this Halloween night.

I'LL'cut off an arm or a leg that's right.
Maybe your head to make you a fright.
Only to have you see look like a sight.
Standing with a chainsaw behind you would be a fright.
For it's Halloween tonight.
So do not fall in the graveyard tonight.
I'm here to scare you into a fright.
To make you dead that would be a sight.
So boo it's Halloween tonight!

Copyright © Harold Hunt sr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
Boorish hater of light.
Bashful, burrowing soul.
Baited with putrid smells,
Bereft of colorize.
Basking in dirt and damp.
Baying at sounds above.
Being ... once a human.

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
 "One Halloween Night"  

There's a old woman who comes out at night
A gray hair, black robe and a white rope too,
Just don't look at the window, is it fright?
The graveyard stands still, while she's by you!

Spirits roam through the grave and haunts about
They prance and dance with spooky shadows,
"Hurry and run, run, run", as the angel shouts.
Don't be scared, or you'll have to fight the battles.

Tonight is eerie with the moon and howling dogs,
Where ghosts and mummies are roaming in the night
And a black cat that creeps along the bridge in the fog.
Looking for Frankenstein and mummies are out of sight!

Having a Halloween night filled with scary thoughts too,
The excitement of spooky costumes, and many monsters
Filled with candies, games, parties, and some fun with you.
And don't forget the eerie grave of one who haunts her.

Yolaine Armitage  10/01/12

Copyright © Yolaine Armitage | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |
Into the graveyard I walk all alone Save the spirits that follow me at times The gravestones show dates that are very old Seems the church saw me and begins its chimes All at once the ground does begin to shake And up the ghosts and spirits come to fright They scare me nearly to death, fly at me My fellow spirits join them with their might I run and hide behind an old dead tree But the owl gives up my true whereabouts And they all plow right through my lost being Fear brings out my soul and I start to shout I’m torn from my body, flowing around They now force me into the ground alright Into the depths of hell to burn always Because I entered the graveyard at night
Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Rising from the shallow graves
Illuminated by moon’s glow
Spirits awaken to misbehave
To get revenge from long ago

She was sent to an early death
Deprived of opportunity
Translucent yet not lacking breath
From death she has impunity

Her ghostly tale will be passed on
In whispers carried in the breeze
Whomever she may come upon
Will be transformed by what they see

Copyright © Eric Niehoff | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Born a legend, based on fact 
The story of the blind woman's well 
For she couldn't see the water's edge 
And in the watery grave, she fell 

When the moon shines full in the still of the night 
You can still hear her mournful cries 
She's begging for mercy from those in the light 
From this place where her body lies 

First blinded by darkness and then by revenge 
She swore that she'd make them pay 
She would take their children one by one 
And in her watery grave they'd stay 

For they knew that the woman went missing 
But there were none who seemed to care 
They had seen her bucket at the water's edge 
But they chose to leave her there 

She lured the children with promises of sweets 
That this woman in the well had found 
But when they would reach to claim their prize 
She would hold them til they drowned 

Twenty times two were the number of lives 
Before the curse was finally broken 
They filled in the well with tons of earth 
To end those words she'd spoken 

No more children would ever go missing 
To their watery grave below 
But in a well-shaped garden in the middle of town 
Forty-one roses still grow 

Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
Spectre! Spectre! dreadful sight
haunting tombs all hallows night
my mortal eye fears to see
are you in the cemetery?

wafting through murky midnight mist
'tween head stones do you twist?
in my ear do you bemoan?
would you terrorise one alone?

and how shocking, how maligned,
have you twisted my once sane mind?
and when my heart begins to beat
will I run on leaden feet?

that your cackle? your rattling chain?
what asylum's in my brain?
that your claw? such iron grasp
will I flee its icy clasp?

Archangel Michael felt the scars,
when Satan threw down the stars,
Did imps smile their work now through?
Did He who made the Lamb make you?

Spectre! Spectre! dreadful sight
haunting tombs all hallows night
my mortal eye fears to see
are you in the cemetery?

Everything Halloween contest
25/9/13

Copyright © Rachel Fawcett | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Oh no and I will not forget tonight! If you loved me you'd treat me well oh but what the hell, don’t you know pay backs are hell! You will be sorry when I work my spell on you, yes you will be sorry for the rest of your cursed life! 'Cuz it's back to the Graveyard once again. Too late now to make amends. Try as you may you cannot win! Oh the curse of the Gypsy witch will haunt you 'til the day you die. Some things cannot be forgiven and this is one of those things. I’ve taken all I'm gonna take from the old Lion and blue grey eyes. You have no one else to blame but yourself, now the ends justify the means on great dark wings. And it's back to the Graveyard once again.
Too late now to make amends. Try; try as you may now you just can't win! You are no match for the Graveyard Witch and yes it is back to the Graveyard once again!

Copyright © Bo Lanier | Year Posted 2016

Details | Senryu |
    An apparition
    Dancing on my grave tonight
    Uninvited guest

    10/ 16/ 2017.

Copyright © george seal | Year Posted 2017