Best Horrors Poems
RUFUS
Fat boy Rufus takes a rooster to bed
"It's my natural alarm clock" he said
He woke late the next morning
Now Rufus is in mourning
Cos he rolled over and flattened him dead...
ARTHUR AND SUE
Two newlyweds Arthur and Sue
Were doing as young couples do
But then as their bed rocked
They became interlocked
And they stuck together like glue...
FRUITY FREDDIE
Fruity Freddie was in bed with wife Beth
Hanky panky he was hoping to get
He leant down to kiss
But gave it a miss
When he caught a whiff of her morning breath...
SOGGY JIM
Jim's bladder wasn't what it used to be
So before bed didn't drink any tea
He forgot one night
And woke with a fright
When he found himself afloat in his wee...
OLD JOHNNY
Eighty year old Johnny ran out of steam
Now at bedtime in his eyes there's a gleam
The doc gave him pills
That sorted his ills
Now his wedding tackle works like a dream...
Written 3rd January 2021
Let me be clear from the beginning
any honest discussion of peace
begins by staring into the face of evil
Not the cartoon mask of villains
but the slow systematic evil
Evil that traffics children like cargo
it teaches hatred until it feels like normalcy
until neighbors become executioners
Ordinary hands commit extraordinary horrors
Indifference calcifies to stone
and thought itself
collapses.
Marcus’s story does not end in triumph
At seventeen he was shot outside his high school
not because he joined a gang
but because he refused to
His funeral was filled with teenagers
They understood that sometimes peace
is a luxury they cannot afford
One in four women beaten
One hundred million displaced
Philadelphia streets— my streets
where children fear to play
rival war zones
in their statistics
And then the litany of mass shootings
Columbine. Sandy Hook. Pulse. Las Vegas.
Parkland. Buffalo. Uvalde. Grand Blanc.
Not distant tragedies
but the lived reality of families I serve
The young who ask me
“Why should I plan for a future
when someone can decide to kill me
while I buy groceries?”
Children conscripted as soldiers
Women sold like cattle
Populations vanished by decree
Young men with weapons of war
end dozens of lives
in minutes
Viktor Frankl, survivor of the camps:
“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing:
the last of human freedoms—
to choose one’s attitude
in any given circumstance.”
I see the aftermath
I sit with the grief
I listen
to the questions
that have
no answers
Every abolitionist knew this mathematics
Every civil rights worker knew this equation
Every protector standing between trafficker and child
They fought forces with more money
more weapons
more power
than they could ever possess
They fought anyway
Not because victory was guaranteed
but because surrender
was unthinkable.
Arsenic
Bisphenol-A
Cresol
Defoliants
Ethanol
Formaldehyde
Government collusion
Herbicides
Insecticides
Junk food
Killing us all
Lead
Mercury
Naphthalene
Oil
Pesticides
Quiet destruction
Rodenticides
Styrene butadine
Trichlorothylene
U.S. produced 15 trillion lbs. of chemicals in 2007
Vinyl chloride
Water pollution
Xylene
You might want to read ***
Zero tolerance
*** "Poisoned Profits: The Toxic Assault on Our Children"
by Philip & Alice Shabecoff
hidden not to elicit
a trifle response
spiteful mordacious
shackled on a horde race
cartridge loiter about the ground
wizened with years
4/3/2017
I did see the buoyant bubbles of bliss
fizzing out of my charming muse's smile.
A bubbly butterfly that she is,
was fluttering and whirling around me with verve.
She was so excited to explore the beauty of nature
and capture some thrilling moments as remembrance
for me to string those rosy memories
into pretty festoons of verses and rhymes.
But alas, she went and came back with an ashen face
and harsh rock-hard facts; when hit by those...
causes insufferable pain.
With angst, I deliver this grievous message
about the horrors of extinction inflicted upon Mother Earth
by the very superlative breed of hers with ravenous greed
they feed on everything to suffice their need to succeed.
An empire of dreams they want to build
on grave of ailing nature.
Enchanting hues of dawn and dusk are overshadowed
by hazy clouds of smoke that smothers each breath.
Economic growth thriving on combustion of fossil fuels.
Always caring to reap more than they sow,
countless trees are brutally chopped and their trace effaced
in the name of luxurious development.
Where once they stood with their crowns held high in the sky
and welcoming arms extended for shelter and shade
to so many birds and animals, are now replaced by
concrete towers and skyscrapers.
Bravo, such a triumph for axes, chainsaws and bulldozers!
Succulent fruits and vegetables sweetened with saccharin
and their skin rubbed with wax for sheen.
Plumper they are because of hormone injections.
Soil fertilized by corporate compost
and irrigated with water that is not crystal anymore.
Every drop is infused with wasted toxic chemicals
and surges the stench of disposed garbage
that begets monstrous diseases.
Even the depths of the oceans are not safe
as marine creatures are dying and lying on the shoreline.
Cheers to the sewage that adds to the quality of water!
A paradise that provided us life is pleading for mercy,
to be saved from the hellfire that we are stoking.
Do we really wish to be the curse for such a blessing?
Date: 06/28/2017
Witches so surreal
Silhouettes upon the moon
Flying on broomsticks
Jack-o-lanterns : smile
Through the flames of Hell, inside
Feigning , frightful sighs
Spooky ghost run by
On moonless Halloween nights
I, cower in Fear
Inspired by the POETESS EXTRAORDINAIRE :
The SWEETHEART of POETRY SOUP ( and me )
Mrs. Linda-Marie's Contest " ***Halloween Haiku*** "
Dedicated To my Haiku Sensei " Raul Moreno "
The lightning, it was over-bright;
My eyes could not filter the glare...
Dark horrors exposed in the light.
The lightning, it was over-bright-
Hovering in and out of sight-
Too dreadful to be a nightmare!
The lightning, it was over-bright;
My eyes could not filter the glare.
[Gershon recently likened (tongue in cheek) my line
‘My lunch is you’ to some classic movie lines. This
inspired verse one.
Jan recently described a dental dilemma which inspired
me to add a few more verses.]
________________
It isn’t ‘To be or not to be’
And it isn’t ‘Not a drop for me’
My favourite line I’ve ever heard
Is from a film: fun but absurd
As said by a plant who just wants his tea
‘The guy sure looks like plant food to me’
The line is to Seymour who’s lacking in lovers
His true love is Audrey: but she is another’s
He’s been promised riches and romance so sweet
So long as he provides some fresh human meat
It’s how the plant grows so what could he do
That blood craving plant is called Audrey... two
Along comes a dentist who’s mind is askew
His hobby is making things painful for you
His girl is the girl of our hero’s desire
he treats her so bad as to raise Seymour’s ire
Who turns to the plant and he has to agree
‘The guy sure looks like plant food to me’
THE HORRORS OF A COLD
Having a cold is not good for you
Although it's not as bad as the flu
You ache all over from your head to your toes
While mucus keeps running from your nose
You lay awake night after night
Because your head is stuffed up tight
You cough and sneeze, you blow and blow
But that lousy cold just won't let go
Then one day you realize
You don't have such itchy eyes
Your nose has finally ceased to run
And now you're glad your cold is done
You feel so good you almost weep
'Cause maybe tonight you'll get some sleep
For days you were such a miserable grouch
So bad your wife made you sleep on the couch
But tonight in your bed is where you'll be
Finally you know that you're cold free
You can give your wife a good night kiss
And have a restful night of bliss
Curtis Moorman
5 July 2016
From Moonday to Sinday = A Week of Horrors
On Moonday the orb above turned red,
To awaken the famished dead.
We've beaten them back ever since,
And still, when I bash their skulls, I wince.
Duesday brought the settlement of all our hates
The weaker perished at the gates;
The strong forced all within their gifts.
Woundsday followed with storms of blood,
Nothing could stand against the flood
Of wickedness unfettered;
It's power to destroy could not be bettered.
On Thirstday we drank deep of every vice
Each depravity indulged at least twice.
Then we rested, numbed and barren,
While all around, the scent of carrion.
Fryday came: we set it all ablaze,
Moving along towards some final phase
Before the coming of some closing end
Chaos now our only friend.
On Shatterday we shook with fear of fear itself
Though there was no longer poverty nor wealth,
But mere equality of misery,
Spread far as ear could hear or eye could see.
And at last Sinday came,
When, properly accepting blame
We scant survivors lay down beneath an impassive sky
In weary hope that it might tell us Why.
Death calls with open arms
Offering sweet relief from pain
Light hurts, so does sound
Giving, taking, burning, waking
Killing, dying, caring, crying
No more feelings
Why don’t I care?
Who am I?
Don’t speak, find
Walking the earth
Hungry now
Take what I want, they scream and run
It doesn’t satisfy
What am I?
Don’t look. Run
Pain is still there, the scratching
The moon is laughing, now it’s gone
My eyes are closed to the people
They mock
Now they don’t
Their blood covers my hands. My face
It blossoms from them in pods, like flowers.
Why not from me?
I hunger, I eat.
I die in peace, in an empty world
No humans left here.
None left but bloated corpses.
Laughing, I die.
©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.
Chinua Achebe should write a
book
From the grave
To soothen the hearts of the
afflicted
the arrow of god is upon us
Things have indeed fallen
apart
Niyi Osundare can en script a
poem
Even if he's long gone ghost
His bewildered lawn
has been blasted by Boko
bombs
Our painful plight
Its still his business
Christopher Okigbo, do what
you do best
Your hands may yet be dust
pierce the heart of Boko
horrors
For they take the path of
thunder
Neglecting the fears of Black
Orpheus
Ken Saro wiwa, you suffered
great injustice
Your nonviolent campaign is
needed
Even tho your soul seeks
revenge
Draft a journal to Boko
leaders
We can't handle bloodshed no
more
Dennis Osadebay, your power
of attorney
Can still be exhumed
The fear of biased party
politics
Is causing massive blasts
Of insignificant reasons
Write to your party movement
Uche Nduka, write to the
poets in their youth
To anger the leaders with the
Bremen poems
They deprive the flower child
of a second act
If only the night Eel on reef
Heart's field and Ijele
Will send belltime letters
Wole Soyinka, criticize
Nigerian dictators some more
They come in military disguise
of misshapen silhouette
Causing chaos of well-seeming
forms
Wright a play of not the Lion
and the jewel
Nor The trials of brother Jero
But of The Swamp dwellers
And the Horrors of Boko.
I'm shivering, naked, I'm amidst bodies on a cart
All I remember is looking up awaiting the water
Entangled I am seeing grimaced pinked faces
And a solumn looking sky very close to tears
Now discarded, left, sensing a sweet acrid smell
Knowing the await, soon the others and I
Time passes as I drift in and out of reality
Then night falls, as I awaken to quieting sobs
Accents I hear, that I'd only ever heard in movies
Aghast gasps of witnessed horrors befall my ears
Crisp morning airs adorn my emaciated frame
Slowly my eyes open to a cacophony of cries
Gently I feel my skeletal existance being carried
Choked voices console as I blearily scan
A silent emptiness abounds, even chimney stacks
No more I see these ills, these evils, they!
O' the horrors of war!
Finally a nation free
To vote my leaders democratically
O' the horrors of war!
Rape, torture amidst this people nevermore
No fear of nocturnal knocks upon my door
O' the horrors of war!
The price to eat now seems all together cheap
And the more I earn the more I keep
O' the horrors of war!
Once again our children have become our own
This land that I reap now I shall sow
O' you say...
The horrors of war!
But, did you ever live...
In this place before?
I can see the sky exploding, falling overhead
Filling us with horror and dread
Killing innocent people in the name of religion, race and creed
Or a political agenda for the benefit of a few in the ruling regime
They speak out loudly on TV and in crowds on the street
Advocating free will genocide and won’t accept defeat
The government assumed the role of the villain
Not just murdering soldiers and innocent men but even children
A chosen batch of criminals in public office
We let them go on making war and making money off us
To support their blood-thirstiness we gave up on our cause
Maybe all our protesting was in total vain
Maybe all along we were just a bunch of wimps.
I can see the dead, I can feel the people’s fear
The endless sorrow and their tears.
The destruction of mankind
Property and nature as a whole
That has got the world reeling in its loss
I can feel the people’s righteous anger held at a great cost
Smoggy clouds of smoke and dust where it used to be blue.
Now, how much is a soldier’s tears worth
Ten yards for a dead heart
A thousand dollars payday for a lost leg
While the movies make it seem noble
Keeping the gut, gore and horrors down to the minimum
But for the men and women, we lose over and over again
Till the horrors without, shade the horrors within
And for those who come back, never come back again the same
How much do you think it’s worth?
When will we realise the damage it causes?
When will we obliterate hate, strife and discord?
When will we live in harmony and peace in this world?
In the name of the brotherhood of mankind as one.