Best Ghoul Poems
Pumpkin party was in full swing
the ghosts and ghouls began to sing
they sang off key
it tickled me
as I danced ‘round the witches’ ring.
There was a teen ghoul named McDimple
Who thought scaring kids would be simple
He'd moan and he'd groan
Just like he was shown
But the children just stared at his pimple.
From the house of the dead
There comes such a dread
Fear fills my heart’s plans
Filling up my empty hands
With inklings of the ghost
Who gives off the most
Feeling of weary alarm
Causing such deep harm
For those who know him
As the ghoul so very grim
He keeps the heart in panic
Leaving the mind so manic
It seems he’ll always bring
A fright that seems to sting
Awakening the apprehension
That comes from comprehension
That this haunting is obsessed
With qualms we have confessed
As lingering glimmers of fright
That fill up the darkest night
Ghost poetry contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
February 11, 2021
I live in darkness, in hidden caverns
Dwelling below the graves above
I hate the light for it burns me
Causing my flesh to bubble and melt
I feed on those that have been buried
The dead become my banquet, my feast
I devour each decayed body with relish
Even the bones snap as I swallow them
I can not eat the living, it is my curse
I fear HIM far above for it is forbidden
To taste fresh meat and drink sweet blood
If only I was brave enough to be tempted
It is a lonely life, sometimes I find a mate
A human woman, that is caught in the dark
I drag her down into the furthest caverns
She screams as I take my lust in blackness
I never feed them, only use them for mating
They starve to death and I let them ripen
If they are pregnated by my seed inside
My child will dine of the decaying remains
It is how we breed but humans are strange
Centuries ago they hunted us, destroyed us
Some of us hid, sleeping for those centuries
But I have now come awake in this new time
They drive metal machines, I see them at night
Metal machines even fly high up above me
I fear I am now the last remaining of my kind
So I must hunt young female women to breed
My kind will rear up and dominate this new world
That has long forgotten my kind, I will remind them
They think my race only fantasy, they will learn
They will be reintroduced into knowing true fear
And my offspring will no long live in fear anymore
No longer will we be only satisfied on the dead
This is a time for my new race to also change
So humans now beware, we will devour the living
Poor little Gary Ghoul was flunking class
He was just too nice; he couldn't be crass
He would try to scream 'boo'
But could only say 'mew'
Teacher asked: "Want to learn how to pass gas?"
October 13, 2020
Syllables: 10 - 10 - 6 - 6 - 10
Checked on Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
Halloween Inspired Limerick Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
There are meanderings who itch and creep
To fill my night with dread.
There are cataclysms where I cringe and cower
That are better left unsaid
And there's an apparition to slake my very soul
Standing menacingly aside my bed.
A miasmal shadow whose form and substance
Seems porous with a brooding discontent.
A vaporous spook from a now empty hoary grave
Crying out some death-bed held lament.
I tremble at this ghastly wretched haunting unsure
How to appease this ghoulish malcontent.
Is it an harbinger of some impending doom
That awaits me in the night?
Or a bleak warning of a tenebrous dark abyss
In dire need of an earthborn sacrifice?
Or a horrific memory of a forgotten transgression
I have conveniently put away from sight?
Its eyes lock in a gaze of sinister desperation
As I search for some meaning to aspire.
But what I see leaves me morose and sullen
As the reflection broods a hellish brimstone fire.
And I turn away with a feeling of minacious fear
Not knowing the spirit's saturnine desires.
This haggard phantom stretches its bony claw
And wails like a banshee twice possessed.
Pointing an accusing finger in my direction
With some long held grievance to address.
It screams in hideous tones, "Beware! Beware!"
Which it most fervently expressed.
"Beware! Beware!" It howls in repressed anger
As I rest my weary eyes.
And through the night it wallows in acute agony...
Lashing out a mournful cry.
But I eventually grow somewhat accustomed
And it becomes a type of doomsday lullaby.
The days and weeks are now three long years
And it continues its nightly shrieking of regret.
But no one said creatures from the spirit-world
Would be straightforward or direct.
I am at an impasse with this ghostly apparition
And remain confused and quite perplexed.
I am oblivious to whatever spectral information
This bit of ectoplasm seems to know.
And the creature appears in no discernible hurry,
But to be honest... I would miss its nightly show.
So until we come to a far better understanding...
I have a place to hang my clothes.
The End
*Follow my cartoon on Webtoon Bob's your Uncle.
LIL’ MISS GHOUL
On the night of Walpurgistnacht,
Lil’ Miss Ghoul walks into her bedroom,
She is deeply saddened after the break up with her latest man.
Lil’ Miss Ghoul puts on her black Victorian dress,
Softly weeping, she sits down at her Gothic, Victorian Vanity Mirror,
She gets out her pure black lipstick and paints her lips black,
Her nails already painted black from this morning,
Lil’ Miss Ghoul walks to her window and slowly looks at the moon,
Her sobs becoming stronger as she tilts her head at the full moon,
She sings to herself a song of love as she begins to weeps hysterically,
Lil’ Miss Ghoul returns to sit down at her Vanity Mirror desk,
She looks at all the pictures of the men surrounding her mirror,
The men who swore their love to her, used her and ditched her,
She slumps over her sobs uncontrollable.
She looks at the Gothic switch blade knife and picks it up,
She looks at the men she thought loved her,
One by one, they were only interested in her body,
Lil Miss Ghoul makes a hard, quick slash across her right wrist,
She looks at the moon, then, slashed her left wrist.
Lil’ Miss Ghoul stops crying, as she looks at the moon.
The blood from her wrists like a geyser, quickly spilling from her body,
She never takes her eyes off of the moon as her life slipped away,
Lil’ Miss Ghoul rises from her body, looks at the men she thought loved her,
She remained hovering in her room, till the next morning.
Momma came knocking, entered her room, and screamed,
Momma screaming, “Oh, my baby!!!! NOOOOO!!!!!!”
Daddy came running to Momma’s screams,
Daddy falls to his knees as he begins to cry, “NOOOO!!!!!”
As the days passed till Lil’ Miss Ghoul’s funeral,
Lil Miss Ghoul in spirit form attended her own funeral.
At her own funeral, Lil Miss Ghoul looks around,
Her entire family was there, all her friends,
She watched as they all painfully weeps hysterically.
Lil Miss Ghoul realized she has made a mistake,
As she says, “Oh my God, what have I done? These people are the one’s that love me, why did I let these men get to me?”
Whether the weather
necessitates to anchor
myself as a tether
when the frankenstorm
socks the east coast
shredding terrestrial
zone like soft leather
i may end up attired
in esprit de corpse
being tossed hither and yon
to and fro like a feather.
If...the forecast imbues
meteorologists flooded with folly
making a mockery
of humanity run amuck
in panic mode - by golly
this mortal male will don himself as
"the chief garbage" taster
with a garland of holly
shuffling along the
boulevard of broken
tin cans and rubbish
feigning to be melancholy.
This getup a throw
back to a costume
adorned this papa when
he attended grade school
eons ago, where corporal punishment
prevailed in case
student disavowed any rule
such as smoking in the boys' room
cigarette such
manufactured by Kent or kool
or lambasting any unlikable teacher,
(whose bookish face) at
receiving end of
pranks rather cruel.
So...presume that Halloween
will take place without any axe
of nature to grind monster
brewing at sea
and picture this poet decked
out dumpster diving
for the most fetid trash
and materiel with cracks
to be affixed upon
a heavy duty sack
with goop from
sullied foodstuffs -
a cause for glee
rotten meat infested
with maggots, shards of glass,
crushed metal cans,
et cetera to the max
will be haphazardly splayed
(Jackson Pollack like)
on this sturdy cloth
that will drape me
spurring a conga like of hungry beasts
ready go pounce – menacing
ferocious wolf packs
adding to the welter per helter skelter
of decayed detritus distributed
from head to knee
and a set of punishing
pronged antlers spiking out
in all directions upon
ma noggin-hence to tax
utmost fear in passersby, and quite
an abominable sight to see.
With a huge paper due at my school,
I had waited too late, like a fool.
For two days and all night
I sat typing; my plight -
went to bed feeling like a strange ghoul.
I awoke, numb from feet to my head;
Oh, my paper! I thought, with great dread. . .
It’s some kind of a jerk
who can’t turn in her work!
I could not even rise from my bed!
Inspired by Carolyn Devonshire's Limericks: "Fruitless All-Nighter"
For john Freeman's contest: "A Double Limerick Inspiration"
Long icicles fall, splinter
On the grey cobblestones,
And silver shrouds of winter
Shield the frozen bones,
Frozen, flesh-full bones.
And ice-gnomes squirm and scurry
Over mossy tombs,
They’re hungry and they scurry
To the feasting rooms,
Marble feasting rooms.
Gangrenous decay
Hideous creeping movements
Odour of rotting flesh
Ulcerated weeping sores
Longing for meat from the grave
Jack Horne for Russell's Challenge contest, 8th October
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!
In the middle of the night
The woman in crimson came to fright
Her hair as black as a moonless night
Her eyes glistened with a milky glaze
She whispered my name
But to no avail
For I pulled the covers over my head
Lest my heart stop dead
She pulled the covers off my bed
I screamed bloody murder filled w/dread
My mom came rushing in
The color in my face drained in fright
For the woman in crimson dress
Stole my light
Cursing me to fear the night.
Mummy dogs and maggot stew
Fire ants on logs
A jack 'o' lantern fruit cup
Nuclear waste punch
A child's big
grin!!
Translation:
Weiner wrapped in strips of crescent rolls....baked
Any homemade stew with Orzo pasta added
Celery sticks...stuffed with peanut butter...dried cranberries poked on top
Hollowed out orange, filled with fruit cocktail...Jack's face drawn on peel with marking pen
Mountain dew, mixed with lemonade....topped with lime sherbet
There once was a timid young mummy
His attire incredibly crummy
He draped a dinner jacket
across his golden casket
Now the pretty ghouls are more chummy