Best Frighteningly Poems
You wake up to commotion, throw on some clothes.
Outside you see some bloody bodies piled on the street.
People are screaming, running in all directions
away from oncoming military trucks and tanks.
Your heart is pounding; your mind shouts
what should I do? Where should I go?
You can't head back home because now
soldiers have headed there,
collecting folks and dividing them into groups:
Men separated from women,
the elderly from the young, boys from girls.
Trucks are filling fast with the different groups of people.
You look all around and see only confused and mortified faces.
The fact that all these others share your emotions
is your only comfort.
A woman breaks loose from a line crying out for her son.
A shot rings out; she collapses to the ground.
You can see one small group of people have escaped -
perhaps unnoticed - beyond a fence in the near distance.
Another group have all scattered, and easily seen,
they scramble toward a store.
They fall randomly when intermittent shots from the soldiers' guns fire out.
You stand motionless, knowing soon you will be tagged
by soldiers herding people into trucks.
Will you try to sneak toward the fence or will you remain as you are
to face your frighteningly unknown fate?
Are there more tanks beyond the fence of which everyone is unaware?
Won't those racing for their freedom eventually be caught?
you must make the decision while no one seems to have noticed you yet:
Freeze or flee?
April 2, 2019 for Laura Loo's
'Favorite Poem From Last Week (March 31-April 6, 2019)' Poetry Contest
March 21, 2022 for
A Brian Strand 1094 Poetry Contest
Old Jack hated Halloween night.
The constant ringing of his doorbell
he didn't like. So he turned off his
household lights.
His wife said, "Why did you go and
do that, Jack?" he replied "They
won't see the house, and I'll get
some rest!"
Little did Jack know that the Trick
or Treaters were determined. They
found his house, rang his doorbell
and Jacks anger just worsened!
Every time Jack got up from his
easy chair, you could hear him
mumbling to himself, and start to
swear!
The little kids would yell, "Trick
or Treat!" Jack would throw the
candy in their bags, and say half
jokingly, OK now let me be!
The doorbell would ring over
and over again. Each time the dog
would bark and Jack would cringe!
His wife would say, "Jack why
do you have to be so mean?" His
reply was, "These kids drive me
insane, non stop, that's why I hate
this Halloween!"
"Every year it's the same old
thing. The doorbell rings, and rings!"
His wife said, "Jack can't you
see the joy you bring?" "It doesn't
matter if the doorbell rings,and
rings."
"My parent's never took me
Trick or Treating. So, I never did
experience what little boys and
girls are feeling."
She felt sad for Jack she took
him by the hand and said," It's never
too late Jack, if you are willing."
They joined a group of children,
as they stopped and got some treats.
The homeowners looked at Jack in
wide- eyed disbelief!
He noticed all the fun the children
felt, as they went from door to door!
And he felt a joy overtake his heart,
and something much, much, more!
He and his wife said goodbye to
their little friends that night.
And Jack became a little boy, as he
relived his boyhood side.
Every year since he changed his
ways. Jack can't wait. To hear the
footsteps of his little friends, come,
Halloween day!
His house lights are on, and his wife
is by his side. With a great big smile
he answers the door, and acts
frighteningly surprised!
The children love Jack, it's their
favorite house to go. He fills their bags
with so much candy, their bags just
overflow.
Screwed IX Contest Rob Carmack
A slippery sloppery slipping snail
Slithered slimed and slid on the floor
Feeling hurried harried hungry and helpless
As starlings screeched spiraled and saw
That slippery sloppery slipping snail
Who slithered slimed and slid on the floor
A fluttering of feathers fell frighteningly fast
Meant that slippery sloppery slipping snail
Who slithered slimed and slid was no more.
© DAW
When no one else is around
I AMUSE MYSELF while sitting down
And bring myself tons of joy when I pretend to be
A stand-up comedian amusing all my friends.
I amuse myself then.
Nothing else to do while sitting in the pews.
I might as well count my blessings, and
AMUSE myself while confessing.
When I'm sleeping I amuse
Myself with my nightmares as I'M screaming
Frighteningly amusing me.
I amuse myself with fun and jokes GALES of
Laughter thereafter. FUNNY patrols the halls
Of speckled jest. HA! I amuse myself at my
Own request.
When muscles are weak from laughters cause
I amuse myself with my APPLAUSE.
I create a funny story recite it to myself
And listen to my own glee.
I amuse myself with peals of SPASTIC
HILARITY. With tricks and folly it's all the
Same. I amuse myself with silly games
At the end of the day I'm amused by the moon
As it sits beneath its HALO laughing quietly
At me
HILARIOUSLY amusing me.
And I saw a new heaven and a
new earth: for the first heaven
and the first earth were passed
away; and there was no more sea
— Rev. 21:1
Satan is king of the sea
When he was cast out of heaven,
his star fell into the midst of the deep
And the dreaded armor-scaled whale arose,
with destroying breaker waves
An unholy submarine terror is he
Jellyfish can fatally sting,
and Great white sharks
are devouring deadly
But the biggest, baddest fish in the sea
is Leviathan ... he’s the one
who swallowed up Jaws, baby
Moby Dick ain’t nothing but a mere goldfish
compared to this dark-scaled monstrosity
This hulking behemoth rules the sea —
King Poseidon ain’t nothing but a cabin boy,
his trident weapon is just a plastic fork toy
Mythical tales
drawn from the deep fountain fears of man
It’s frighteningly obvious indeed,
Leviathan rules the sea
King Neptune ain’t nothing but a fable,
a man-made up story water balloon
I’m sorry to burst the bubble,
all you doubters
Mythical tales
drawn from the deep fear wells of man
Yes, Leviathan is bad as they come ...
he will drag you 20,000 leagues under the sea,
my doubting daughter and son
Leviathan ain’t no tall tale;
he will swallow you whole,
then vomit your soul
into the bowels of hell
It’s scary obvious to me,
Leviathan rules the sea
Wake up from your watery sleep, people
Satan is real ...when will you believe?!
No worries though ...
in the end, God prevails over the Devil
This is so comforting to me —
for in the new earth there will be no sea
Written: April 27, 2025, for contest by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Quote: "Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." By Rumi
************************
When love weakens, a vacuum remains,
A canvas painted with countless shades of gray.
Laughter fades into a quiet pain,
And joy shifts into a foreboding sway.
A world of vibrant colors unfolds before you,
Yet now dull tones steal away a fading dream.
The echo of your presence hits frighteningly true,
A spectral grip, a limitless gleam.
Once filled with laughter, now it's a mournful sigh,
Craving the touch of a once-lovely grace.
My spirit shrinks and begins to softly die,
As darkness stretches across my face.
Yet a spark still flickers amid gloom,
An unknown strength; a will to rise anew.
A phoenix emerges from the grave of doom,
A reborn self, strong, courageous, and true.
Though love may have faded, a lesson shines bright;
To spot the beauty in a tightly clenched shell.
To conquer suffering, I must stand and fight,
Learning to love myself and embrace the tale to tell.
Accept the love that escaped you,
Love is not a feeling, but rather a choice.
Being able to love is even more untrue,
A strong love adorns our lives with rejoice.
Traffic Jam Slam
Who dresses them up and puts them in cars
gives them their keys as they leave the bars
these drivers who sit at the red light and grin
preachers out practicing Sunday’s big sin.
Somehow they think we can’t see inside
as they dig in their noses and ogle with pride
something they found that they should probably hide.
She’s putting on make-up, He’s combing his hair
the kids in the back seat wish they weren’t there.
As the light changes they make that left –SLASH
while plucking the last of their graying eyelash.
They’re texting at red lights so they tend to linger
and when you disturb them they give you the finger.
Then there are those who ride on their bikes
who haven’t matured since they fell off their trykes,
riding on sidewalks and running stop signs
dressing in outfits that require fines.
Who leaves the slow people alone on the street
stuck in the crosswalk – rush hour - dead meat.
Now we have turkeys and the Canada Goose
invading the country, just plain running loose
crossing the highways, honking at us
and if you should hit one – oh what a fuss
PETA will come with a camera and crew,
let the whole world get a good look at you.
So put on your make-up and straighten that hair
your fifteen minutes of fame is frighteningly near.
For SKAT A slam the slam contest
John G. Lawless
5/31/2014
How could you, Mr. Barnoby?
How could you give me a math example?
You know I don't do math.
YOU'RE My math teacher, you know that.
You should know where a young person like me
Is with math. Yeah I said young person. Instead of
Kid, because I DON'T feel like a kid.
I'm 13 give me a break.
This math thing has kicked me around plenty
In The classroom.
Now, that I'm an adult or at least I think I am.
I might suffer a bit because Of the way I'm choosing to deal
With this math monster unlike most people would.
I plan on totally avoiding percentages, division, and equations.
I can perform division and percents if I wanted to.
But I'm choosing not to.
So far I've managed to not be mangled by a complex, crucifying,
Convoluted, conundrum.
A blood sucking equation.
I've never been mathematically inclined.
But after becoming an adult I discovered that I wasn't the
Only victim who saw algebra as FRIGHTENINGLY COMPLEX.
THE LAST WORD: A CALCULUS - LIKE MIGRAINE.
(x-3y+17) 5r= 15/91xy-p/2r-x
How lovely, isn't
It, to have an 'off' switch, shotty wiring
And all,
And a presence lined up to ****?
They are always there
To cauterize the wounds of emotional castration
Without desire to examine
The blood pattern forensics,
Chalking the splatter up
To an affinity towards Jackson Polluck.
Tears are to the meek
As injury is to the bold,
Chastity is to pureness
As promiscuity is to curiosity.
And what
Supplemented activity relates to the character
Defect of an over-eager search for validation?
How surreal a menagerie constructed from
Syringes full of sunshine.
Currency crusted by blood in place of worth,
Hopeful scribbles of the pale and placid carrying
Small flecks of over packed bags under the eye
Can seem when sunlight filters through rose colored lenses;
How frighteningly apparent
Connect-the-dot freckles and
Spasms of the left cheek and
Teddy bear smiles and
Xylophone ribs and
Bits of skin ghosted from lips become
When refracted by a Narcissus pond—
How I m p o r t a n t,
How appropriate these sentiments:
Perfect companions for the rolled-up-carpet's journey
Of finding permanence along river bottom
Set into the silt and framed with waving algae:
A'voir, piggyback consistencies,
Meet oblivion in shreds
Blown out the back end of the skull
In the instant chapped lip worshiper meets collarbone shrine.
Such ready to leech services are no longer
A necessity
In the four hours of chemically enhanced rawness
Stuffed with bile and bruise and suck and lie
Hollowed of meaning,
Save for the proverbial cholesterol of hope clogged in pores.
But I awake in numbness,
Cold and invalid,
With my head pressed on Doubt's chest
And my fingers knotting in its own
Begging to be warm again.
Gun violence is a real thing.
America arms herself.
Horrible sadness it will bring.
No matter how much supposed wealth.
It is detrimental to her health.
Frighteningly real. Bang. Bang. You’re dead.
Our streets and malls running river red.
This is a day for separation
allow a stillness to unfold
in solitude, the revelation
sees above expectation
of what we are forever told
this is. A day for separation
from hesitance and trepidation
within the sharply shattered mold
of solitude, the revelation
of wisdom, silence’s fascination
and what we will forever hold
“this is a day”. For separation
yields conscious manifestation
we nearly lost within this fold
of solitude. The revelation
brings onset of alteration:
forever fear, frighteningly bold!
This is a day for separation
in solitude (the revelation).
Set free the caged dreams and ambitions,
let it swing freely alongside with inspiration into the freeborn kingdom of stardom.
But this is frighteningly difficult,
because the free will that freely stimulates the free world of the freethinker, rich, poor, arrogant and elephant minded humans, has out-weighted the stimulus of human free ideology, to freely understand, conceive knowledge, and regulate in times of freezing stress.
This has freely transformed most humans into free-floating educated duckling, living as freelance hustlers, in an untitled free world,
Where the wise:
freely fish less, but catch more,
freely hustle less, but gather more,
freely talk less, but solve more,
freely take less, but give more,
freely run less, but arrival fast
While the fool:
freely eat with the longest spoon, but still stave of starvation,
freely move with the wisest idea, but still sink,
freely hustle more, but tumble fast,
freely run and act fast, but shun fast,
freely have the most stardom, but still lack absolute freedom.
Freeing Freedom,
Is freely achieved, by nesting patiences, control, and not aggressively wrestling life;
But by having the tendency to bullying struggle, and make it dropout of college.
Freeing freedom,
Is freely achieved, by adding more strength in developing intellectual power, free-living, and free acceptance of who you really are, rather than that of rage and free falling into discontent aggression.
Freeing freedom,
Is freely achieved, by forever caging doubt, and letting inspiration free-for-all like free vote, and also letting love run innocently barefooted into the gates of Bill Gates brain, to reap inspirational freedom.
We make motions, to fight lack of resistance,
That are recognized by only ourselves.
- Motion noticed - We're still certain of our stance
So to the depths of emotion our fight delves.
Forever and a day, plus an hour or two
Led to hollow war waged out of control.
- Isn't all we need - a couple or a few
For a mist of lies and deceit to slowly roll?
Follow me down to the ragged, shallow
Explosion-torn landscape we live in.
While there we'll find corpses to hallow,
Or those dying quickly, wasted and thin.
But Cleverer, Or More Clever still,
Is the addition of your friendship,
- When your love is this powerful. -
Frighteningly harsh, like stinging whip.
You've never been closer than the here and now.
But while I advance, you move farther away.
I'll take what I can't and give back the "how;"
Let short-lived loneliness bring what it may.
An ocean of people pulled by the moon
Frighteningly stand on foundations of sand.
A word deemed unkind will cause them to swoon
And so, by their hand, all dissent is banned.
Teetered precariously on their feels,
Not thinking it strange they constantly change.
Those thought against get no court of appeals,
No trial arranged, no pris’ner exchange,
No quarter, no mercy, no clemency,
And no kindness found, no mutual ground.
No one allowed simply to disagree.
But, they, too, are bound by rules that confound.
This can’t be good for our society.
Drowning beneath a wave of fantasy.
written for Wave Of Fantasy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Last Halloween was scary
with evil brewing strong
when Peggy planned a party
and things went off all wrong
In tatty robe, her hair awry
she slaved all day with care
her neighborhood to satisfy
with an elegant affair
Fine treats she baked and broiled
and decorated in detail
until her appetite was spoiled
and strength had almost failed
The house she'd scrubbed and polished
to a frighteningly bright sheen
every speck of dust demolished
she worked like a machine!
But, oh- the guests arrived too early
before she was quite dressed
and between her looks, and manner surly
were somewhat less than impressed
And to make things even worse
they quipped in her living room
their clever lines, so well-rehearsed
“Oh Peg, we LOVE your costume!”
They waited half a second, while
still within earshot
and sniped with vicious smiles
about all her house was not
How her home was far too small
to host this gathering
with depressing rooms and narrow hall
too shabby for anything!
The kids came in rolled their eyes
at tacky Halloween kitsch
and consoled themselves by cracking-wise
about it all with Mitch
Now Mitch was Peggy's husband
and should've known her mind
but he said things offhand
that came off as unkind
Then Nan came in with Merrilee
a chef of snobby taste
who (nose turned up), quite warily
declared the food “a waste”
Then as the midnight beckoned
Peg raged against the room
(a “woman scorned”, I reckon...)
the party met their doom!
___
A Halloween poem to make up for my deceptively titled 'The Living Dead' poem... which has nothing to do with the holiday!