Best Spooked Poems
We were four tough teens and one day at school we were dared
To spend a night in Hangman's Woods to prove we weren't scared,
We'd set up camp for the night then heard loud wailing and a moan
Sheer blind terror overcame us when we realised we weren't alone,
We ran as fast as our legs could carry us and we didn't look back
And made it to the woods entrance and there stood by an old shack,
Were our three so called school friends who'd set us up for the dare
They were laughing and pointing at us and all we could do was glare.
Written on the 25th October 2020
8 lines Of Spooky Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin.
Souls filing down Heaven’s hall;
People walk among us all.
One or two in a crowd can, see them;
Others are blind, to their own fellow men
Keep your mortal
Eyes closed at night, in bed;
Dark rooms may reveal the non-dead.
i once got spooked
on Spooky Hollow road
smack dab
in middle of headless horseman country
almost lost my head
it was very dark
lanterns belong to city dwellers
my station wagon spun crazy eights
as i imagined, the dawn of the dead,
a recently watched horror fest
any moment he’d materialize
head hanging off shoulder
green as pea soup
or Dracula, leaning on a cane
white teeth hanging like stalagmites
bump in the road…
well you know the end
i find the main artery
my box springs creak at night
muuuaaaaahhhhhhh….
As a child at night, tucked up into bed
counting sheep would never work for me
counting only up to three
then drifting from my head
An imagination Big enough
self-sabotaging dread
a shadowed figurine
with glowing eyes instead
whistling gusts of wind
the creepy creaking shed
What if something hungry lurked outside
looking to be fed
its favourite snack was little girls, with ringlet curls
who wore Pjs colour red
scared but curious, I tiptoed across and carefully I tread
perching by my window
oddly sitting on the ledge
was a creature looking back
tilting slow its head
A frightening hoot so loud
was why I spun around, and to my parent's room
whizzingly I fled
I follow you around everywhere you goI speak to you when the wind blowsYou can hear something but you cannot hear meI listen to you complaining all the time about meI come up to you and blow into your earAnd all you do is flap your hands around your ears in fearYou run from me but you cannot hideI will always be there somewhere by your sideI see the hair starting to stand up on your neckAnd the goosebumps rise on you with my every breathYou run into the next room and slam the door behind youOnly to turn around and see me standing in front of youYou scream as loud as you canThen you wake yourself up from the nightmare you just had
5/19/16
Spooked !
Unknown alleyways
Where slanting darkness
Camouflages corners and discovers threat
Lost in a maze
Of dead end shadows from fickle moon
Dissembles direction
Turning left
Straight ahead
Turning right
The tourist map of instinct
Points north
But thinks the exit
Lays south
To edged near a wall
Hangs a screeching gate
Pensive listening for its winded clue
Leaves dumb devices of panic
Marching on raised pulses
Time walks around
The implacable bricks
Menacing the insecurity of its passing
By footsteps echoing
As they repeat their searching
Way
Out
Way
Out
Find
The
Way
OUT
Eyes survey for some recognisable shade
Desperate to reconstruct
Confidence
As it trickles away on every stride
The eerie dog fox call barks
On hairy standing chills
Down a shivered neck
Shuddered spine
Stay calm
Way
Out
Way
Out
Way
Out
Find
The
Way
OUT
With outstretched hands
Stumbling blind on creeping fingers
They begin to stir
Clammy cold sweat
The soup of fear
In its wet snarling teeth and demon eyes
With bristled fur comes sneaking
Hunger
Primordial animal
Wants to get out of here
Touches cold metal
Creeks the gate
Iron bars hang awkward
But wait
Take your time
Breath the spooky
Calmly push past the rustling walling thing
When the moon breaks
Out
Outside
Way
Out.
There was a girl named Bridget
who fell in love with a midget.
They got along fine
'cept at loving time
the best he could do was fidget.
yes, spooked
by lightning
while
the
scarecrow starts singing
the titled song,
“Bring Him Home”
SPOOKED
i snuffed
out candlelight -
suddenly spooky dark.
forgotten sound, resounds, in length
of chains.
9/7/2017
The sun set slowly this eve
As the moon seemed to tip toe
Upon the distant horizon
As the handoff of day to night ensued
The sounds of laughing children
Filled the air on this Halloween
A chill fell upon the trick-or-treaters
With hopes costumes would protect
From the oncoming cold night
Little protection, though
Against the hunting and haunting spirits
That wish to walk the earth
By scaring the many children
Into dropping and leaving their candy
Running away and screaming
Aah, the lengths parents go to
To not only examine
But, to get their favorite candy
"Another 150 Illinoisans have lost their lives in the last 24 hours
May each of their memories be for a blessing
2,240 residents have tested positive for the virus
Another 365 new hospitalizations were recorded
730 people are on ventilators...
"These are real people, who have and had real lives
So, the virus is out there. It is among us
Stay inside your homes. Please!
Only go out for essential trips...
"Make sure to wash your hands thoroughly
for at least 30 seconds, with soap
whenever you touch exposed skin or a foreign object
Multiple hand-washing is the message here...
"And wearing a mask at all times out-of-doors
is key in mitigating the virus
I just can't stress that enough
Don't forget social distancing either
Stay at least six feet away from the person
with whom you are interacting...
"I'm the last person in the world who wants these restrictions
I'd like to open up the state as much as you would
Yet the the statistics don't lie. And though
we're flattening the curve
the virus is still out there
It is among us..."
I could give the daily speech by heart myself
Thank you, Governor Pritzker, for spooking me
and so many other law-abiding Illinoisans who have
been foolish enough to buy into your extended lockdown
For which you had no legal authority, whatsoever --
Bully!
And which, by the way, didn't apply to your family
Your wife and kids hopped on a plane and flew to Florida
to your tawny vacation home ---
Stay at home, my foot! ---
Hypocrite!
I hate going outside with my mask and gloves
I hate going shopping or to the pharmacy
I hate going for a walk in the park
It's all on you, Mr. Pritzker
May you reap
What you've sown...
And after the next election
May your memory be for a blessing
Spooked
Driving along on my scooter seeing the familiar
landscape there was a time disturbance
the landscape was the same but the trees small
and there were fewer ploughed fields.
mystical shadows and a murmur of voices sounded
as an echo and I felt spooked.
I stopped and waited perhaps I had a funny turn
slowly the warp panned out and I was back at
my own time, yet I sensed an unease I should not
come back to this place that had layers of old time
that had yet to melt into the clarity of a white water
that has no story to tell.
Full moon beams
a foreboding light
hanging in a
twilit sky;
shadows of cobalt
soon blackened loom,
as witches stir
their cauldron brews.
A distant howl
in the night;
skeletal fingers
click so light.
The graveyard stirs
in amorphous view.
10-12-2020
Halloween Fright Poetry Contest
Carolyn Devonshire
Who is knocking on my empty stump
on this cold and dreary night?
I glanced at my friend, but she was snoring away,
her usual evening sight.
I went to the door with my loaded acorn,
ready to shoot me some bear.
But believe it or not, no one was around,
not a soul even there.
Old Mr. Johnson, with broom in one hand,
Told his sweet granddaughter, “Sleep, not grandstand!”
Her room was empty, the air grew cold—
Only the Ouija sat silent and bold.
He muttered and shivered, “No time to wait,”
Grabbed his truck keys and zipped past the gate.
The cemetery whispered secrets in dark,
As shadows danced under trees in the park.
The moon played tricks with every headstone,
A voice cried “Grandpa?” in a ghostly tone.
He spun ‘round fast, tripped on a grave,
Landscaped his pants—wasn't feeling brave.
Tombstones echoed with spectral delight,
A squirrel popped out, gave him a fright.
“Mabel!” he yelled, “Get out of this place!”
But no one answered, just wind in his face.
With tires screeching, he fled like the breeze,
His truck was airborne near two maple trees.
He got home, jumped in bed with a moan,
“Should’ve bought her that Barbie phone…”
Later that night, beneath moonlight's beam,
Granddaughter giggled from inside a dream.
“I told the spirits to make him run,
Now he’ll never call bedtime fun!”
So Mr. Johnson stays tucked in tight,
A flashlight gripped till the morning light.
And if you hear wheels spin at twilight’s ring—
It’s Grandpa practicing ghost-evading drifting.