Best Spooks Poems
It was quite a party at the old Spooks house,
to a spooktactular Samba they bobbed and bounced.
with skeletons banging their big ox-bone drums,
and the pumpkins all sang as the witches hummed.
Black cats did dine on tuna eyeball stew;
wicked Wilma brought her green bat-wing brew.
In the attic was held a wondrous broom race
and out back was a terrifying zombie maze.
Pirates and scarecrows arrived well dressed;
judges couldn’t decide whose costume was best.
Pumpkin ghouls climbed and played in the trees;
giant spiders spun silk and swung there with ease.
Greedy young goblins stuffed pockets with snacks
as children came by trick-or-treating with sacks.
The ghosts did a tango beneath a bright moon
and everyone knew it would all end too soon.
Just as the moon bid them all nighty-nite,
the sun it ascended giving vampires a fright.
Home they all flew to their dark coffin beds
‘cause you know, sunlight’s fatal to the undead.
Then the party disbanded with bellies all full
as among eerie nimbus pranced Taurus the bull.
Wilma flew off to the Witches Head nebula;
a scarecrow hitched a ride on the broom of Bella.
As little Spooks bedded down for the day,
hungry skeletons finished off the pumpkin flambé.
The bats all fluttered to their bat boxes, high
as grandpa Spook waved saying, “Next year, black tie!”
Spooks were making love their bones were clattering
Fresh in after death sex they were a prattling
They missed the first session
How to spook the passion
And slipped to their graves skulls down saber rattling
Spooks were making love© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 14 November 2014
I'm as free as the wind as I sway in the saddle!
I love life! There's no clutter, nothing to addle!
I give my faithful horse Wild Lightning free rein,
As we meander across God's magnificent terrain!
My pal Spooks trots ahead surveying sagebrush and crags.
I sense that he enjoys life too by the tail he wags!
I crave no roof - the wide-open range is my home.
Territorial bounds don't confine me - freely I roam!
Well-worn saddlebags contain my earthly possessions.
I don't aspire riches nor am I burdened by obsessions.
My soul abounds with wealth as I view His Creation!
Ah! The grandeur of it all! 'Tis ample compensation!
I pause on a knoll viewing the vast panorama and ponder,
The river, a lake, those snow-capped mountains o'er yonder!
In the valley a herd of pronghorn antelope gambol and play.
At dusk The Master Artist paints a majestic sunset display!
Campfire embers slowly die - Wild Lightning grazes nearby.
Spooks lies at my feet - snug in my blanket I gaze at the sky.
I anticipate being awakened by a glorious sunrise next morn,
When Wild Lightning, Spooks and I continue our vagabond bourne!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
HALLOWEEN SPOOKS - I
Not by night
Not by day
No escape
No way
In your bed
Late at night
There’s no help
There’s no light
On the highway
For heaven’s sakes!
Brace yourself
No brakes
In the air
Take a breath
Oh my God –
Smell of death!
In the bathroom
On the stool
Evil, smiling,
Disgusting ghoul
Climbing the stairs
Bedroom above
Oops! Whoops!
I get a shove
Love in the night
Better not look
Fatal kiss
She’s a spook!
In the backwoods of Tenn-O-See eerie things is seen on Halloween night!
Stroll with me down a country lane - you'll see things that'll give ya' a fright!
I s'pose ya' could set by the far and read of sech frum an old-timer's lore,
But come 'long, boys and girls, if ya' dare and see them scary things galore!
A headless hossman races by yellin', "I've lost my head, confound it!"
Its disembodied voice keeps repeatin', "I'll have no peace 'til I've found it!"
From a leafless oak a body swings in the wind danglin' frum a double noose!
'Tis said an impromptu posse hung 'im fer filchin' hosses on the loose!
That old house is said to be haunted and mysterious lights is seen inside!
The story goes that hosts of fiendish ghosts and witches therein reside!
Passin' the old cemetery, I'm sure y'all will want to increase yer stride!
Leerin' ghosts and skeletons lurk there and they'll skeer ya' outta yer hide!
A spectral platoon of sojers is seen marchin' 'long that haunted stretch of lane.
A sergeant counts cadence and moans is heard from them that's sufferin' pain!
Spooky lights is seen waftin' to and fro and seem to be headin' our way!
Are they restless spirits with evil intent er lost souls that have gone astray?
A sobbin' wraith with glowin' eyes is seen floatin' jes' beyond the ridge.
With a piercin' scream she waves at us and leaps frum a nearby bridge!
So, my children, if its thrills y'all is lookin' fer and a real Halloween scare,
Come, take a midnight stroll with me 'long that fearsome lane, if you dare!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in PD's "Any Poem You Posted This Week" Contest - Nov 2011
Embolden they, marching hand in hand a unison
Determined to bring down his child; Nero, Pharaoh and her
Sparrow trailed closely by their three little pigs ? Baby playing amid love's
Innocent crib unaware these, daemonicia noses pressed unto destiny's forte glass ?
Licking time's panes premogenitor's werewolves her full moon: crimson, begins it's howl
Hunch'back hallways imploding doors splintered eyes the battle cry ~ Charge....
....Bobby, juggling his infant giggling.
HALLOWEEN – SPOOKS II
At the door
Little Boy Blue
Kissed our pumpkin
Mistress Mary too
Shutters rattle
Unearthly howls
Ghastly sounds
From Satan’s jowls
Tattered scarecrow
In the corn
Comes to life
The dead reborn
Halloween pumpkin
Big surprise
Runny nose
And bloodshot eyes
Flee my children
Here they come
Graveyard creatures
On the run
In the kitchen
Gary’s wife
Chased by a spook
With a carving knife
Diddle, diddle pumpkin
Old Mrs. Rich
Rides on a broomstick
She’s a witch!
In that wood so dark and deep
where ne'er but silent shadows sleep
there spectral images e'er do creep
in that darkened wood so deep
In that wood of shadows long
where ghouls and ogres there do throng
there where spells are cast in song
there in that wood of shadows long
In that wood so still and dark
where wolves do howl and coyotes bark
there where bleeds the elder bark
there in that wood so still and dark
Into that wood go not at all
where spooks and banshees scream and call
there where many are said to fall
do not go to that wood at all
So he loaded up the fossil fuel and they moved to Beverly
Hills that is, Hollywood, movie stars ? Afore their golden years...
Her Queen of Buckingham Palace sent for Shakespeare as to enquire
His nether worlds nouveau riche nostrum Prince, Nightingale Night Blindness
If their Fab Four would be accompanying King Abbooboo to the Jim Crow festival during
Astarte's, William the Conqueror's, Normandy of Christopher Columbus', avant-garde days ?
Signant his reply carried past the Black Hills of Dunderhead Falls; via Her Whites Templer Thee, Search'light.
1
"Darling, this is the place where my dead body was kept before burial
Let's have a kiss in this dead room before spooks get in with brooms"
2
"Spooks die in beetle soup and beetles die in spooky poop under Encounter Group"
3
"..and they die happily ever after"
I’m the latest ghostly tale of a Dead Sea non-person
A son of a slave seed;
I Diaspora bled from wooden callousness,
inside a cadaver pale white whale —
born half-dead on arrival
Bosom fed green pasture promises,
amber waves of nothing
Blue sky hope was always barren grey
Cruel cerulean reign
became crystal clear due
at the first skin auction bartering
The blue wails heard inside the Great white whale
are the heavy, scarlet laden spirits
of the spooks who boo spoke
when the chain reaction, cyclone tears tsunami fell
Billowy fear is ever buoyant
in the back of the primordial frontal lobes
Ivory cetacean throne of confusion
spouts a blustery, carpetbagging blowhole
Showering the captive voices
with coin chicanery of abysmal misdeeds
I’m the latest ghostly tale of a Dead Sea buried body
A son of Amittai seed,
a twelfth-part branch of Messianic divinity;
I Gathhepher died from iron oar maliciousness,
inside an abominable sell white whale —
born again on a crucifixion revival
Stolen heritage was our sole, ancestral possession ...
a precious lot sold at the flesh mart bidding
O dark shadow moves across the crimson horizon,
aghast eyes dread the unlocked fate coming
Ghostly tales of another Exodus
won’t trigger any alabaster alarm bells
Every spook who boo spoke
had their singed words
cinder bursting in the breeze —
Setting the soft underbelly Yeti moans of the white whale
hard-hearted cries ill at ease
Carrying an ignoble act in mind
With a ruse to devour all humankind.
A witch will tell you that all will be well
If you allow her to cast a charmed spell.
Ignore her and find that your soul be cursed
By a demon spell that can't be reversed.
On Halloween there'll be no redemption
No place to hide, no divine exemption.
* * *
8 Lines of Spooky Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Our town of Newmarket is alive with kooks
Evidence is the number of sillies and spooks
Unusual to be sure
In our brochure
An image of Goofy in a warm wooly tuque
War is the spookiest Thought that I know
Lingering and dreaming deep down below
Blood ridden bodies with death at the door
Each bullet with a name written on the ammo
Sleepless nights wondering if you get to go home
Or be placed in a coffin with a flag atop a dome
Wind driven choppers carrying the dead back home
Today could be your last day of all spooky syndromes
Contest: Eight Lines of Spooky Rhyme
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Date Created: 10/24/2020
The psychic walked into a bar
She said “I don’t like this!”
A superstitious bartender screamed and ran off.
He left his wallet.
“You don’t like what?” her camera man asked.
The TV audience was wondering too.
I was holding my breath, awaiting her answer.
“I don’t like that mirror behind the bar,” she told him.
“It makes me look fat.”