Best Creeped Poems
Spring Enchantment (a love poem)
As wisps of clouds creeped
overhead before a storm moving quickly east,
the moon lay down his vanilla beams
to dispel the darkness hiding our bared feet —
set side by side — romantically
touching for warmth, for love, for eternity,
hopefully, to envelop us, like the coming rain
in our lives’ thundering, combined heartbeats
…joined into those duets passion will release
all about from the great springs of yearning.
(c) s.y. Eslinger 3/2024
Thanks be to God——
All I remember is rampant rain and a loud bang.
As dawn distilled through a canopy of palm trees,
glimpses of light reflected like emeralds on leaves.
I felt blessed in its warm golden glow,
as I awoke under clear sapphire skies.
Radiant sun blazed brightly,
reflecting like a fluorescent mosaic
upon turquoise waves kissing my bare feet.
I could hear cobalt macaws squawking
and soaring from cliffs to branches,
as the ocean lulled with a soft lullaby.
The air was so pure, but muggy,
as curious creatures, I had not seen before,
creeped and crawled around me.
As I wandered along a champagne shoreline,
I could hear an orchestra of morning birds,
composing their exotic melodies,
which added to the tranquillity of calmness.
Footsteps of fate led to a verdant forest with
an abundance of mahogany and rosewood trees.
A fluctuation of kaleidoscopic butterflies floated
among a plethora of petals in lush layers of
amber allamandas, maroon mandevillas,
orange orchids and purple passionflowers -
their sweet scents blending with saltiness of the sea breeze.
As my soul connected deeply with my surroundings,
a leafy path of twigs led to a myriad of mangroves,
their roots resting in an aquamarine toned lagoon.
I could see fancy fish in vibrant red, yellow and silver,
swimming in trails of troops around water lilies.
As my enchanted eyes gazed beyond a
flock of fuchsia feathered flamingos,
towards a gentle waterfall cascading,
serenely over steps of rock -
I caught a glimpse of a figure in divine light.
Dressed in ivory and gold,
reflecting in the image of Aphrodite.
Her bronze skin shimmered in the sunlight,
as her flaxen fair hair flickered in a gentle zephyr.
Such was the epitome of her grace, I was mesmerised.
I could have admired her brown pearl eyes, forever.
Unaware the endless blue horizons were
now dipped in velvet and honey hues,
I forgot about the diamonds in the sky.
The moon glowed like a ruby at midnight,
shining scarlet moonlight upon her lips -
my whole being craved for just one kiss.
Before I could approach her,
I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar room,
as a nurse in a white uniform asked me;
"welcome back, are you all right?"
Will tomorrow be smiles and lovely
Will your smile ever be real to me again
I don't know how to change what is
Time has creeped upon you and I
Grey is our hair and loose is our skin
Those things don't matter
Just the way you speak unkindly
Hurts me to my soul
Bitter blood boils through my veins
Tension causes stress points in my face
My smile has been away for awhile
I miss that smile
I miss your laughter
What should we do or say?
creeped out by the cat
such an unexpected touch
stealthy and sneaky
Covid didn't like being labeled "just a hoax"
So it took revenge on one who made sick jokes
I don't wish him any harm
But he won't buy the farm
It seems his face is covered in rotten egg yolks
What arrogance in refusing to wear a mask
Was keeping the vile germ away too much to ask
Spreading it to many others
Parents, sisters and brothers
For that he should be ashamed and taken to task
Well, now the jokes on him and his foolish pride
The Corona germ creeped into the naysayer's hide
Covid kicked him in his gut
Then bit him on his big butt
It could've been avoided but he lied. Yes, he lied.
How awful have been his political transgressions
"It is what it is," one of his smug expressions
That man is just too haughty
He's despicable and naughty
All he cares about are his worldly possessions
I don't like writing about people in politics
But D.C. has too many liars and lunatics
Time to clean up his mess
He's caused us such distress
Four more years of Trump? I say, "Fiddlesticks!"
~Jan Allison has written a limerick about Trumps "tweetment," that you would enjoy. https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_correct_tweetment_for_trumpty_1292245
This is my personal opinion, and whether you agree with it or not is your choice. If you do not, I suggest you write your own views instead of
leaving negative comments. Thanks.
I saw a ghost, when I was small,
It had a shadow, upon the wall.
My mother left, to go to the shop,
And the house is where, I had to stop.
Me and Buster, my precious old dog,
Who sat on my lap, like a heavy log.
We watched TV, and played around,
But got disturbed, we heard a sound.
A loud bang was heard, Buster took a look,
Whilst I lay still, for I was quite shook.
His snout went up, towards the air,
And he fell into a long, and gazing stare.
He barked as he ran, towards the door,
But soon he stopped, and looked at the floor.
He ran back to me, whimpering and scared,
And I cradled him, as he watched and stared.
I creeped to the door, to a long narrow hall,
And saw a shadow, upon the wall.
I gasped in awe, I was petrified,
‘There’s something here, it’s come inside’.
A door half open, at the end of the hall,
Began to move, and creak, then stall.
My eyes did widen, cold entered inside,
‘What is there?’ In the room it would hide.
The door would move, once again,
It widened the crack, and suddenly then,
Buster did run, away from me,
There was somewhere else, he’d rather be.
He hid on the sofa, as I slowly looked back,
Down the hall, and towards the crack.
Then I saw, the ghost appeared,
The crack in which, it slowly neared.
The room was dark, but light enough to see,
A large dark figure, that was looking at me.
The dread I felt, on that faithful night,
Kept me awake, until morning light.
My mum came home, and I told her the story,
Of a dark floating figure, with feelings so gory.
We went to bed, and the following day,
Her face was white, she had something to say.
‘You know that thing, you saw last night?’
She said to me, with her face of fright,
‘I woke up this morning, around quarter to three,
And the figure you said, was stood next to me!’
A true story
Behind the Glass Walls
You ripped out from the private place only you held in my Spirit.
Slowly tearing my flesh away, keeping me suffering every day.
Picking away at me, slowly dying, it's pure agony, can you see
Any just in this madness? Turned into the monster that
Betrayed the both of us with his nastiness.
Tears of blood pouring out behind my glass walls that I have
Kept working for the ability to see outside this world and
Survive In yours. I fall to my knees, unable to please nor to
Proceed. This has to be over.
Screaming silently from the depths of my Soul all the love
Has turned to sorrow.There is no more hiding till tomorrow.
Slowly you seeped out. Please keep out. Your world is so
Creeped out. It's time I have to shut you out "daughter".
See you again, if your able to try this better and start over,
Keeping it stable.Try to fill in all these holes of sorrow,
But my glass walls have began to shatter, the pressure
Exploding, don't you see, that my life matters, my dear
Daughter, until you can love me for me, put the blame
Where it started, our paths have to stay parted.
Achingly slow the way that we kissed,
enjoying the entrapment we laid in.
You commemorated this with cursive.
The soft swirl and soft hand of cursive
matched us as the paper was kissed.
Italics bold as your tongue trucked in.
It was comforting how you creeped in
with flirtation flowing in pristine cursive.
Immortality penned the way you kissed.
A love letter french kissed in cursive.
Stung with the absence of his father, he excruciatingly rumbled deep inside of his mother’s womb.
He stormed out already filled with disappointing void.
The mother’s joy was of uncertainty.
Memories of her husband, flashed back right in her face once again.
She could feel the exhaustion of a lifetime encircled around her and the weight and magnanimity of raising the beautiful baby on her own.
Two years creeped by and the bond between them was legendary.
The love was so constant and consistent, like the sun will rise.
Their friendship thrived through the encroached stormy desert.
Her wings unfolded like an angel, extraordinarily patient as a lion hunting.
The fondness between them was as phenomenal as THE SERPENT GOD at chichen Itza, that he was unceremoniously detached from her.
A devastation of a 4-5 year old separation to a foreign land, felt like an erupted-never-ending-volcanic-nightmare.
The purpose of that crushing disconnection, was feeble.
he was starved off of food, shelter and raiment.
Apportioned milk from animals became the only privilege given.
The purest and cleanest form of consumed water, was of a residual of donkeys streamed through the shin of an old dirty black slave man.
An occasional feasting on birds, caught through invented-trapping.
With innocence, he’ll apathetically rip the head, feathers of the little creatures with bare hands, bury them in the sand of the mountain top desert, hours later, it’s BEANO.
He was deprived of even just a glimpse of his family for all those years, he wimped in loneliness.
And on a dark frightful night, came the growl of the famous fox, but he survived.
Life is fickle and comes without no warning and can’t be anticipated.
Survival can not be measured by *echoes* of preventions, it is destined and destiny is not always a gift.
The tale unfolds in hardship, a narrative woven through the threads of resilience and survival. The bond between mother and child, tested by separation, echoes the unpredictable journey of life—a journey marked by both strength and vulnerability.
The day she left
The world shattered
The day I found her
Splayed on the floor
I went back to the winter
When her and I laid side by side
Making snow angels
The day she stained the snow blood red
I remember her holding me
As I cried
Like I was the one broken
Like I was the one
Who had a heart
That could never
Pump enough life into my veins
I remember every moment
Like it was yesterday
I remember
The day she told me she loved me
And I didn't believe her
I remember her laugh
As she took my hands and smiled
I remember
The curve of her mouth
The way it felt
When she kissed me
I remember
That no how many times I tried
I could never kiss away her demons
The ghosts that creeped
Into her dreams
Twisting them to nightmares
Invading her sleep
Now she wakes up screaming
I remember when I said she was beautiful
And she showed me her scars for the first time
I remember kissing each and every one of them
Thinking my lips
Could heal them
Like I would fill the cracks
In her life
Make her whole again
I remember the time
I found her after her first suicide attempt
Sitting in the bathroom
Crying clutching the bottle of pills
The way she was clutching onto her life
I remember holding her that night
Staying awake as she slept
So I knew she was still alive
I remember trying to fix her
To heal the brokenness she held for so long
Pulling her out of the canyon of her hurt
But no matter how hard I tried
She kept falling
The death of a lover
Is something you blame yourself for
I remember thinking that I should have tried harder
That I should have held her longer
That I could have stopped her from leaving me
But truth is she was gone
Long before she met me
It creeped upon me slow and increased day by day
Something was draining all my spiritual food
I could not pray without being interupted the words kept slipping away
I could not sing praises making melody in my heart
I was not focused on him
My hope was built on nothing
My Peace had been disturbed
My whole body begin to shake and become weak
Everything good I was once taught was being drained straight out of my head
No zeal to serve him
My Joy had been stolen
My mind was infested with worldly things
My feet walked another way
My memories of the thorns on his HEAD were completly dead
Thinkings of his hands and feet being pierced bothered me no more
My fear of him was invisible
My concern for my SOUL vanished as if it were never there
How could I allow this terrible thing to happen to me in such a short time
Why did I not GUARD my SOUL? I had to have been out of my MIND!
STAY FOCUSED
< the sleeping giant once again has been awoke
to the sounds of great thunder and billows of smoke
what has happened his imperial's majesty's sleep
out from the depts of hell a great wavetrain has creeped
tainting soil where once land had been so enriched
brandishing homes businesses left them in a ditch
twisted metals dancing in swirls of stenching air
recovered bodies of beloved this is so unfair
across it's great mountain range somber is now heard
unity becomes one and not forgotten word
rebuild rebuild the sleeping giant request
let our people of japan return to their nest
for there will always's be another tomorrow
where earthquakes and tsunami's will bring such sorrow
for an sleeping giant all nestled in his bed
and his people dressed in five elements of thread
Tribute To Japan
~Hear The Call~
(Free Flow Verse Style )
Dreams of doom fills me quick,
Overshadows my whole being
And thoughts as dark come to be,
With impending doom I can hardly see
I feel so tired, weary
All of sudden feel heavier on my feet...
Nothing to hold me, I can't take another step,
His evil presence blinds my way
I'm falling into a darker endless hole,
And a fear like none other raises over me,
Where undead horrifying faces my heart grips...
He overpowers me and his dark riders creeped on me
The precious he wants from me at all cost
And the ring bids me now , strongly, to do his master's will!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2004
June.29.2016
Authors notes:
-From Frodo's point of view at the Prancing Pony Inn. Frodo's about to slip into darkness...
-From my extensive poetry collection, inspired by the LOTR trilogy and the Hobbit books and all the movies and books by J. R. R. Tolkien-
PANDORAS BOX
To have the power of the gods doesn’t mean you should play God
Some things are better left the way they are; don’t wake the sleeping dog
He wanted a body evidence and dug into a murder case that murdered him
The Judge said that the case should have been left to be since the chances are slim.
The day incessantly keeps creeping into the night
The creatures of the night are tired of having surprise daylight
This is halting their business; they sought on a planned surprise attack
The day ignorantly creeped in as usual; darkness swallowed its light like a shark.
Blood is thicker than water
The ingrate bastard thought knowing his biological father could make life better
He persistently sought to know that he disregarded his ever known father
Could life be so horror? The man whose daughter he raped is his biological father.
Some things are better left undone than ever done
Man feels that concerning himself with what concerns him is never enough
He got too busy with another man’s matter; enough got more than enough
He opened the Pandora’s Box; it was far too late to blame himself for attempting.
Lordvip
October, 2013.
The most awful things happened on a dark and stormy evening,
foreshadowing the battle between good and bad-darkness and light.
Opaque clouds concealed the light as it escaped from the moon.
We were on our way to the Native American History Museum
to see its latest treasure; an amazing monolith of some sort,
excavated from an old Indian burial ground. That creeped me out!
I admit I was frightened, but it was a matter of pride to win a bet.
There was sure to be some vindictive consequences if we refused.
The whole idea seemed to be rather grim and gruesome,
and I could think of more delightful ways to spend an evening.
After opening a window, we climbed in, but finding the right room
took some doing. One guy made annoying Indian chanting sounds
so I asked him to stop. He said "Ok, whatever you say, boss."
"Don't patronize me," I shot back in a vicious undertone.
The monolith was encased behind an oval of glass, but as we approached
it started to give off a bright golden glow. Flashlights were dropped,
we all back away, but no one could speak. There was an eerie humming noise coming from within the case and suddenly the glass shattered,
sending pieces flying in our direction. I wasn't first to fly out the window,
but I made sure I wasn't going to be the last.
We ran until we couldn't catch our breath, but no one talked about it.
I held up my camera, as if to say... I got a picture.
We were fortunate to escape without being caught.
Victorious in accomplishing our task, but we're not taking any more bets.
7/19/2016
Make a Poem *2-Shadow Hamilton
Required words: Awful, amazing, annoying, grim, gruesome, delightful.
frightened, fortunate, finding, monolith, moon, museum, oval, opaque,
opening, patronize, pride, prelude, vicious, vindictive, victorious.