Best Bram Poems
“I am the monster that breathing men would kill. I am Dracula.”
Bram Stoker
The successive pounding of the hammer.
The stake in his heart took my breath away.
Came the bright torches, village clamor,
the successive pounding of the hammer.
Rosin of the vampire, screeching glamour,
tightening of cold hands, recant to pray.
The successive pounding of the hammer.
The stake in his heart took my breath away.
10/28/2020
(An Addingham poem)
‘There! Where every curve
injects another memory.’
Analytic beauty that
nestled in verdant valley
allows the mind to review,
where archaic dry-stone walls
enhance the ancestral ghosts,
impeccable trees, nature’s
guardian to one’s heady days,
inscribed when lovers called.
Now historic brows lost
within the village face,
expressive meadows
from a bygone age did
grace now lay in waste,
every thistle upon
throstle nest cut down
and stone barns redundant.
For cement and brick
replace the gathering blooms,
fertile soil lay under macadam
and house numbers
supersede the hawthorn hedge,
and old ‘Bram’ on horse and cart
daily down moor lane
long gone and dead.
Oh. Them old manifestations
embedded, the labour
of many a village son,
where leaf and wood
do part but once a year,
after seasons of regrowth
give way to winter’s ascetic sun
that rolls across Rombald’s moor.
‘Oh. Yes, the sun, one thing
that man has not yet changed.’
© Harry J Horsman 2021
Coffin is where this creepy fellow sleeps
Other people’s blood he likes to drink
Unique teeth – shiny pointed fangs
Naked necks are his tasty midnight snack
Transylvania is his homeland, its soil gives him strength
Darkness is his only friend he works undercover of the night
Real name is Count Vladislaus Dracula
Always avoids eating garlic in his food
Cannot abide a sunny day
Unless he has a wooden stake through his heart he cannot die
Loves to shapeshift into a bat, wolf, dog or fog
Alucard is his name backwards beware he’s cunningly disguised
Jan Allison
29th March 2014
Written for contest ‘Be Bram Stoker for a day’
Sponsored by Darren Watson
~ Awarded 3rd place ~
The moon reflected on the sea,
A night more beautiful than day.
I wheezed and struggled up the steps
And looked out over Whitby Bay.
I saw the harbour far below,
And heard the splashing of the waves,
I turned around to see the church,
The ruined abbey and the graves.
I thought of Dracula, the Count,
Imagined him and Lucy there,
And then I saw a hulking shape -
But, oh, the menace in that glare.
He showed his fangs and hissed at me;
My feet were rooted to the spot.
I cried for help and waved my arms
At people on a distant yacht.
He lunged and bit into my neck;
I tried to fight but felt so weak.
And that is how I came to die -
And you’re the prey I need to seek…
for Darren's Bram Stoker contest
Dracula was in a fix
Blood and sweets just do not mix
The dentist had no doubt
The fangs had to come out
Goodbye to vampire’s tricks.
-------------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus ~ 13th April 2014
Contest: Be Bram Stoker for a day
Sponsor: Darren Watson
Placing: Honorable Mention
She’d thought he was eyeing her rack
as with great charm, he led her out back.
But she realized too late
this would be her last date
as her neck got sucked dry by a Drac!
*For the contest of Darren Watson: Be Bram Stoker for a Day
A female gymnast in Romania
Sweet girl's name is Nadia
Went to a castle passed Brasov
A legendary castle, not of Romanov
Elegant and so cozy
To stay is nonchalant and dozy
Fictional character hailed once
People's world quivered more than once
Nadia kept coming back
In the said castle with a knack
Fell asleep one time waiting
In Bram Stoker's baiting
The night so dim in the scene
As a knight comes out with sheen
But the night crumbled with pangs
Nadia and the knight bitten with fangs
From the bed Nadia dropped on the floor, screaming
... a dream!
At the Borgo Pass I met a coach and horse,
And the villagers warned me not to go,
They were worried about a supernatural force,
But I had business in Transylvania, though.
The coach rumbled along the Carpathian mountain road,
Through the lightning and pounding rain,
We arrived at an old, darkened abode,
And I thought this trip was all in "vein".
But then opened the great castle door,
And the Count bid me welcome to his house,
He cast no shadow on the floor,
Where scurried a bat and a mouse.
In the mirror he cast no reflection,
On our dinner he did not dine,
And upon my curious inspection,
He drank no water or wine.
Then late that night I awoke with fright,
As something hovered over my bed,
Then I felt a quick, sharp bite,
From a vampire who's eyes glowed red.
Then cried the children of the night,
As all at once, there shined a beam,
I awoke to see a ray of sunlight,
And realized it was all just a dream.
(This poem was my tribute to "Dracula" by Bram Stoker)
High winds - stirring sea - surf pounds - Whitby beach
Storm clouds - residual - seagulls - frantic cry
Midnight - a figure - in view - ascending
Bowed down - wearily - cliff steps - Abbey bound
Skywards - waning moon - purple - in streaking
Figure - looking down - last time - hesitates
Cliffside - beckoning - then moves - in seeing
A flash - lightening - from grave - arising
Hungry - Dracula - no escape - figure froze
Exposed - vulnerable - a scream - was stifled
No-one - witnessing - horror - stricken face
Could, would - testify - to what - next took place.
He cuts the sun with his teeth; therefore, ashes were not at his feet.
He was born by day but his family lived by night.
This was his purpose because of his nocturnal life.
He had the life of a vampire.
No one knew his secret because his life was normal.
Inside was darkness.
This is his family embodied.
They did not worry about daylight.
They work, lived, loved, and played.
A generation never to be told and West Virginia would be there origin.
They all are white collar by vocation - the future of a great nation.
By fate, they would be rich in blood - not thirsty for others.
Once old, their thirst would form because they would desire to stay young.
Do not worry this family has to grow in which they will be a manifold.
In the world of vampires, Bram Stoker thrives.
Dracula is alive.
_______________________________________/
Motif: Vampire
Whitby is a great little town
Nearby Scarborough is too noisy by far
Here at Whitby. you can sit around
On the beach dreaming of castles afar
To Transylvania, to the castle of Bran
Where. I saw a vision of Vlad
Known as the Impaler what a bad lad
Leaving his victims impaled so sad
I suddenly saw the look in his eyes
I scurried away I was shaking inside
Round and round the castles did run
Didn't want my body left hanging I cried
His shoes were muffled by the felt coverings we wore
This Is the tradition when visiting here
Felt his hot breadth on my neck
Nearly stiff with fright never known such fear
Through memories mist his hand appears
Grabbing my jacket he hastened to say
This is nice how much did you pay
When I told him in a low voice, Oww Much.*
were the words that came my way
The spell was broken I could see
Vlad the Impaler was smiling at me
Did I frighten you your face was a scream
Felt like impaling him for all to see
Eyes opened I was back at Whitby sands
Was just a small dream inspired by a plaque
Left to commemorate me a citizen called Bram
Showing the place where I wrote. Dracula.
*oww much a typical Yorkshire expression of surprise at the high cost.
Tg
It’s Halloween and Winnie the Witch
flies on her broomstick with O’Bramovitch
mid-flight puss acquires a nasty twitch
both his nostrils flare, he begins to itch
his pitiful me-ow rises to fever pitch
shame cat's aren't fitted with an on off switch!
A Halloween black cat, folk may say is kitsch
poor Bram needs help, Winnie flies to Ipswich
landing at the home of a vet named Mitch
Mitch quickly mashes up some roasted flitch
Bram gobbles it all up without any hitch
he says his twitch and itch were just a glitch
Alas, Bram’s pre-flight meal - a Beluga sandwich
was the tasty snack which gave Bram a stitch
Mitch declares that cat caviar is far far too rich
so this Halloween treat Win will now have to ditch
Bram’s irate, caterwauling that Winnie’s a snitch
hissing all the flight back to their home in Bloxwich
Halloween Monorhyme Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
10/26/21
Hail, high denizen of tree,
not one improvident like me,
safe within your arbor's ruts,
there you keep your store of nuts.
Autumnal bunting soon must end.
and winter dearth is round the bend.
When I behold you as you nibble,
what need have I of nymph or Sibyl?
Lavish more verses on some cat!
Eliot and Gray have seen to that.
Browning did not shun the rat,
nor did Bram Stoker spurn the bat.
Is a squirrel, red or grey
a lesser poet's theme than they?
Let no distain those efforts hamper
that turn our thoughts
to those that scamper.
I am going to admit right up front
I am not a believer in this “New World Order”
In my opinion, it is a conspiracy theory,
Devised by those who are eager to confront,
Of it, frankly, I am more than somewhat weary.
I have heard blather from right-wing extremists
As far back as 50 years ago of a super-government
Being planned by a powerful cabal of power brokers
Closely aligned with international communists
As hard to nail down as fantasies by Bram Stokers.
In truth, we already live in a global society
And nations of like politics have bonded in kind
But national sovereignty is still the prevailing view
In my way of thinking, freedom is still a priority
Though some leaders are of a different mind.
If the world ever succumbs to a “New World Order”
I shall not be around to be a part of it, I know
In any case, I can tell you it is very slow developing
As I said, 50 years ago it was bantered in the corridor
So, it is not something that has come galloping!
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written April 8, 2022
for "New World Order" poetry contest
sponsored by Robert James Liguori
YOU HAVE HEARD OF THE WRITER, BRAM STOKER,
HE WROTE ABOUT KILLING, WAS NO JOKER.
HE WOULD GO OUT EVERY NIGHT,
FOR SOME FOOD AND A QUICK BITE.
THEN TAKE SOMEONE HOME JUST, TO POKE HER.
10 10 7 7 10
SYLLABLES CHECKED.
IF I`M WRONG, BITE ME! lol