Best Eerie Poems
The Amadawn ‘ave played the joker
for the Good folks fairy Coort
‘T was they ‘ave egged the paper birches
an’ touch’d the scare crow’s stalks.
They ‘ave giv'n leerin pumpkin ‘eads
to Dullahan black ‘eadless ‘orse.
Tied the liein’ Leprechain’s tongues.
Changed the dread Pooka’s course.
Stol'n the noble Banshees keen moan.
an ‘idden ‘er bone white comb.
They ‘ave lured two changeling lovers
to Red Man’s bloody ‘ome.
N’er free since June, the jesters play
their brash tricks on Samhain’s eve.
Stealin’ all the gifts left fur the dead
‘neath mournin’ mortals trees.
N’t till the sunrise will they lave off
wid ‘ the Leprechauns in toe.
And sadly scurry ‘omeward bound
sure laven us all alone!
Crashing tides, a relentless assault,
Bitter cold winds, a chilling jolt.
Faces slapped by nature's icy hand,
Entities from the deep, a sinister band.
Waves rise with a thunderous might,
Like demons dancing in the pale moonlight.
Each gust of wind, a haunting wail,
As the ocean's grip tightens, a ghostly tale.
In the abyss, dark forms arise,
Silent whispers, echoing demise.
Deep entities with a grip so cold,
Dragging towards a final resting fold.
Salt-laden air, taste of despair,
A struggle against forces, ruthless and unfair.
Yet within the chaos, a defiance stirs,
A resilience against fate as hope recurs.
Streaks of pallid moonlight
wash over blood-stained
burnt umber leaf blight.
Glistening stainless steel remains
within wilting noir roses
and blistered blades of grass.
Sickening hands shake my repose,
heart racing, sure to collapse,
feeling faint.
A revolting nausea elevates,
trying to find restraint,
as madness deregulates.
A heart separated
from a lifeless corpse—
death awaits.
Flashbacks play like static reports,
too hard to get a clear picture.
Splashes of splattered red fill
spaces in between scriptures.
Screaming echoes spill,
dirty visions getting clearer,
as the sacrificial lamb
becomes the predator, evaporating fear.
Fighting for the blade, fingers clammy,
spinning out of control.
How could you bring me to this?
Steel cuts against palms, foretold—
splatters of crimson spray, don't resist,
covering fear-filled eyes.
One last-ditch effort:
grab the hilt and arise.
On this deadening night, collect.
You became Samhain’s sacrifice,
a feast for the demonic nether, sanctified.
Coach Alan Brown was incredibly unique
At eighty he had an athlete's physique.
A fullback mocked his years,
Brown hefted him by his ears.
Since then mouthy jocks have squelched every squeak.
Amazing grace
Let the bagpipes play
While in blissful peace I lay
Beneath rolls of morning mist
Let bagpipes whine and wail
At the portal of my heart
Tugging at the gateway of my soul
Releasing timeless ageless tears
In supernal universal rhythm
As generations of kindred spirits
Swirl above the eerie misty morn
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on June 4, 2019 for contest YOUR CHOICE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - HONORABLE MENTION
There was a florist in southern McNungus
Sloppily smeared with soil humongous.
Customers suspected something was wrong
When proof arrived indisputably strong:
His ears displayed five varieties of fungus.
Sue and King were just married
In the night they were harried
By the cat and mouse
In their grave top house
Where they were freshly buried
Winter lizards are henpecked
Don’t trust them if they are baked
When clock strikes ten at night
They gather guts to fight
The fried fleas in the plate caked
In Eden there was a thief
He planned to steal Eve’s fig leaf
He burglarized the house
Pounced on Adam’s spouse
And he found a mound of beef
Where are the brave, those men of courage?
Where are the pious people of God?
Where are the Good who stand and rage,
Where are their voices, the views they had?
Where are the ancient values treasured?
Where are the truths their fathers died for?
Where are the ones whose anthems measured
The passion, endearment for the land they adore?
Bowed into the eerie silence of the grave
Bowed, mute, mere watchers, just like sheep,
Bowed Freedom clutches the chains they gave
Bowed, from the fading stand they failed to keep.
All rights reserved ~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~07.25.15
Anaphora -repetition of a word or words at the beginning of two or more successive verses, clauses, or sentences.
What a doll you've been in this crisis!
I have broken my pubic symphysis
You've propped me with a ladder
You've applied on ass an adder
And brought me a pesky paralysis
I sat at my desk, just typing away
The snow was falling, throughout the whole day.
There was no one home, just me and my pet
This eerie feeling, the chills I did get.
I swear I heard steps, above in the hall
I stood really still, and shouted a call.
The cat came walking, for he was quite near
What I was hearing, it wasn’t that clear.
It seemed to be close, right above my head
In my son’s bedroom, and right by his bed.
What was I hearing, up moving about?
Should I go and see, or get the heck out?
I snuck up the stairs, and tried to be brave
I looked all about, no signs had they gave.
Okay I was scared, for my house is old.
Entering the room, it felt rather cold.
So I went back down, and began to type
I heard it again, I knew I was right.
So I grabbed my purse, and walked out the door
I needed to go, get milk at the store.
Upon my return, my daughter was there
I heard it again, and I told her where.
“Mother” she had said, and rather aloof
That’s snow falling off, of our high-pitched roof.
I wasn’t convinced, and felt really dumb
Not sure she was right, I still was quite numb.
Your eyes can play tricks, and your ears can too
Watch for the shadow, that brushes by you!
One sinister night, heavy laden with a
dense layer of fog, no presence of
moon or stars. Shrieks
of a tree-dwelling owl and eerie noises
of a double iron gate, hanging,
swinging loosely on rusted hinges at
an entrance to an old rural cemetery,
was all I immediately heard.
One could barely see the age-old
granite headstones of ancestors
interred centuries ago.
Wait! Are those footsteps I hear
in the distance?
Is it just my imagination?
A slight breeze rustles fallen leaves, and
feelings of fear cause my mind to visualize
spirits and shadows darting in, out, everywhere
around me. Thus invading the resting places of
these rusticate deceased souls.
As I awaken, veiled in a blanket of sweat,
great relief overwhelms me, alters me
into a state of reality. I arise from my moist
bed sheets, opening heavy drapes, foreseeing
a glorious morning sunrise.
To my horror, all that presents outside
my bedroom window is gray, dark, dense fog.
Quickly, I close the curtains, asking myself;
"Was it only a dream, or was there
something more?"
Indeed, an eerie feeling of Deja vu!
The crazy in me came out last week,
but I don't care???
Normally my house would be armed to the teeth,
waiting for some form of retribution,
normally i'd be bouncing off the walls with paranoia,
darting in and out the windows.
My mind thinks about it,
but i'm not fazed,
i'm calm,
my mind just won't fixate on it.
eerie calmness....
but I still wait for whats to come.
death comes to us all...
Las Animas
Light intones creeping darkness in unfinished overtures
Of fallen leaves scraping against a broken path
Like distant footsteps faintly heard in rising mists
Of incensed passages leading to a yard
In growing shadows where life reflects back to life
With dates that start and end in chiseled granite,
Stone angels keeping watch, upon this night of hallows,
Passing through a creaking door, silently closing in swirling fog,
To feel an outstretched palm hovering above the spine –
Skin rising up in prickly terror with sweating palms
As trembling hands brush at unseen cobwebs
Like brittle tendrils caressing red hot cheeks
Uncooled by moaning winds of twisted chaos -
Stumbling in a dance macabre of shades when two worlds collide
Until twelve bells releases fiery fingers of unheard screams
As las animas finds stars upon the other side of midnight.
9-24-19
The Shadows Know :o
On this eve when creeping shadows devour the fading light,
As fiery phantom secrets touch the neck just out of sight,
Nightmares cackle on tiptoes to slip past dreams at midnight
And silent footsteps stalk the unspoken with ghostwrites. :o
Dark cauldrons of the dense spells blur the scene outright -
Snake through alleys of trembling truth with no moonlight.
What lays hidden beneath this unknown breath uptight?
Cold sweat rises leaving reason bereft of clear eyesight. :o
A cache in ghostly apparitions of remorse take delight
In prickly dancing panic - taking shape in the half-light -
Chaotic heartbeats pound at feared exposure’s fright
Secrets stumble dodging reason’s insight. :o
Shapeless terror stretches up to hover over midnight
Blocking escape from this howling wild and ebony night
Hairs stand up on the spine in fainting trickery’s plight -
The eerie shadows know a thousand eyes see all tonight. :o
10-19-21
Contest: Halloween Monorhyme
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Such an Eerie Sound to Be Heard
Continuation of "Farewell" October 2008.
The night has come upon us,
The fog is rolling in,
Crickets have stopped their chirping,
IT's coming to get us again.
The last time we were lucky,
We got away with our skin,
Running so fast,
Can't believe he's started again.
We told our tale to the town folk,
How we were running so fast,
They thought it a joke,
We knew we couldn't last.
All they did was laugh at us,
Made fun of the story we told,
Said that we were brainless,
We needed to be controlled.
Then comes a scream from the nearby forest,
Such an eerie sound to be heard,
Pick out your mount, make it the swiftest,
Make sure he is tightly haltered.
Now off you go into the woods,
To see if you can help,
Their screams now their loudest,
So much louder than a yelp.
You know you must be closer now,
Your horse has given his best,
You jump off running somehow,
You surely must be blessed.
You are now where the screams came from,
But there is nothing to be found,
Everything so quiet so calm,
Then you look upon the ground.
Many signs of a struggle,
There is blood everywhere,
The scene, it is so awful,
Worst than a nightmare.
The fog is getting thicker,
You know you must hurry back,
Get out of these woods much quicker,
The darkness now pitch-black.
But you hear something coming nearer,
You think "not again"
You wish you had armor,
It's coming from the glen.
Hurry back to your horse, you think,
He will get you away so fast,
Your courage has started to shrink,
You have to get back to Belfast.
There you will be safe and secure,
You know this for a fact,
The rain has started pouring.
Why hasn't he attacked?
Maybe the rain has slowed him down,
Might have even turned him away,
You better get going, get back to town,
This is one place you don't want to stay.
1-31-2009