Best Afright Poems


Homunculus

Ago I watched a woman coax
A fellow back from death.
Sand clung to the drowned
Man's shoulder, briny fluid
Dripped from clustered hair
Breath pushed lung to throat

In that moment inelastic life
Crashed back upon the dead
like a shadow tsunami
A curl of pale and bilious gas
Fumed from chimney nostrils
Solidified in black to wight

A crowd appeared though I alone
Observed that embryonic beast
Queasy, shivering afright,
I marked its flight beyond the foam
And with a sudden acumen
retrained my sights on death undone

Anon the surly imp invades
My repose, persists, cajoles
Courses as the Golden Horde
Across the spear grass steppes
Lodges of despondent darkness
Curtains drawn in masquerade

Where to the sopping man, renewed,
Removed I have no honest clue
Yet, with Lutheran conviction:
Beware the mirrored urchin clone
Loosed against our universe
Deceptive doppelganger who'd

Concuss humanity, earthbound
Sedate the benefactor faction
Throwing shade across the globe
Foment a foul and frothy chaos
Their like exists, implicit legion 
Homunculi, contrary of the crowned

Premium Member Hearing the Wind In Garden City

Word Lyric for Music #4

”Hearing the Wind in Garden City”

Got off the train at silent midnight,
Standing in the glow of a swerving streetlight,,
Then I heard something fly through the center of my soul,
It was the big yellow bird with black nuns in tow,
One by one the avenger attacked without pity,
But I was alone, hearing the wind in Garden City.

Drove on old Highway 50 at noon time,
Pulled the car into the shade with the Sunoco sign,
Standing in the darkness of the dour men’s room,
I saw the Cherokee killer wearing the lizard costume,
Soon, seven miles down the highway, he will show no pity,
But I was alone, hearing the wind in Garden City.

Creeping slowly down the old oak lane,
I saw the house, and the green unforgotten pain,
The guys tied up the moon and left the sun afright,
And shot four holes through the heart of the night.
Then I heard something fly through the center of my soul,
It was the big yellow bird with black nuns in tow,
One by one the avenger attacked without pity,
But I was alone, hearing the wind in Garden City.

Standing over their graves in the shadows of Valley View,
I saw Nancy dancing in red, with Bobby dressed in blue,
I saw a terrified girl in the darkness, begging for her life,
I saw the guys carrying a blue-barreled shotgun, and a hunting knife.
There is blood on the walls, and innocence is lost,
Four ambulances on the lawn, their tracks are star-crossed,
Then I heard something fly through the center of my soul,
It was the big yellow bird with black nuns in tow,
One by one the avenger attacked without pity,
But I was alone, hearing the wind in Garden City.

The Ghoul Club

Dancing and prancing around and around.
     They came in droves to Halloween town.
Laughing and joking they all came to sing.
     and all brought a handbell that each one would ring.
 
This is the ghoul's club and we all belong.
     Said one little ghoul who looked like King Kong!
Cemeteries North, South, East and West we've flown from tonight
     Just to be a part of this horrible plight.
 
We've all come long ways to sing our favorite song.
     And the way we all feel, we can do no wrong!
Each has their handbell to ring different notes.
     But when we start singing, we sound like froggies that croaks.
 
Your ears will tingle with each woeful sound.
     As we go a flying on the Merry-Go-Round.
What shall we sing and which bells will we ring?
     This is the question that the ghoul club did bring.
      
The concert had started when the caskets arrived.
     Each ghoul was startled at the little surprise.
They clammered and hurried to find the right one.
     He could lay down in and have him some fun.
 
The ghoul club started howling like banshees in the night.
     Of course that's what they were, so don't be afright.
They ended the concert and got ready to leave.
      Each one in their casket in traffic did weave!


Premium Member Marchsillypus

O Marchsillypus!
Sour apples, roaring dandelions
lambykins and daffodils
furglowering seeds
blown through sweetling fingers
and tweedy cantankerous fiends
with the fierceness of lions
toss the bouncing balls
of lollypopkins into streets
not made of gold
to save his much too lawngreen soul
except for honeysweet grandma types
who stomp on the old man’s toes
he cries with defeat
as his sprinkler tears torture more seeds to sprout
and poppop is forced to pat
candy-necklaced twins
softly on their wretched heads
his sentinel-wife sanctimonious with arrowslant eyes
will reprise a kick in his bumbum
if he doesn’t likewise pat their furpet
who tinkles and wrecks havoc
O sillysourpusskin
your dreams are afright
not for sun days but treacherous nights

3/10/2021

JUST A SILLY POEM!

Centaur's Charge

Fauning hairy sprite
Convene woodland diet
Passion and fervor ignite
From forest thickets alight
Guided by Luna's veil so bright
Gird your loins with all your might
Reins and halter held tight
Wend your way thru the dark night
Brandishing sword, your birthright
Scour lowlands scourge, blight
All that haunt and afright
Search lowest dale, mountain height
Nymphs uproot, demons fight
Forage your pastures stealthy, quiet
Keep fleeing dwarves in your sight
Sequester unicorns, leprechauns that spite
Mollify wizards that charm then slight
Into babbling brooks foamy white
Caress truant mermaids until first light
Then to your sylvan lair take flight

Premium Member A Real Stinker

Dedicated to Jan Allison

A REAL STINKER

Medically speaking, all humans have movement of their sphincter.
Eruptions of sphincters can cause disturbances of epic proportions.
    Your fresh squeeze, young and delightful, may utter a proof that
sensory brains indeed moved to a higher atmosphere from the rear.
The scented sphincter will not easily dissipate, can’t wait just a sec -
       the sulfuric scent can linger longer unchecked. Clear the room
   for if you enter in too quick, a sign should really appear, quite like
       the caution of the Parisian catacombs, the stench of dry bones
              quaking under the sphincter’s attack - a real stinker in fact.

His date was afright as he grew green, sped to his brother’s house,
familiarity threw open the door then onto the bathroom lickety-split.
                                  That roaring relief catapulted to new heights,
                     as a little boy’s voice leaps from the tub, “Uncle Dan!”
                              (Name has been changed but the laugh is reel
                                as the paper unwinds over or under -
                        no one cares when there is a great deal of thunder)

Disagreeable relations lean in
to hear the tale again and again,
        until one has to go…real bad

12/3/2021


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