Best Supernatural Poems
Campbells and Winchesters,
Dean,Sam and John,
Together they are the Hunters,
Of the unknown
Supernaturals.
They summoned,shoot,stakes
and burnt,
Their preys of lore and legend,
Vampires,shapeshifters,zombies
and demons,
You name them and they
fought with them.
Castiel is their guardian Angel,
Against the yellow eyed
demon Azazel,
Chosen a human with
demon's blood,
To open up the Hell's gate
prison.
Then there is Lilith the white,
Daughter to the father of lies,
Who wants to break 66 seals,
To free daddy Lucifer from
Hell.
There's two ways to kill a
fallen,
One of their own ancient
dagger,
Another is a Colt demon
killing gun,
Which leaves more monster
trails for the hunt.
I like the way you are made
God’s gifts perfectly displayed
That kind of beauty will not fade
Embrace who you are don’t be sorry
You were not made to be ordinary
Let the world witness extraordinary
she is pretty
in a unique way
why can she not see it
Hi Caren
This is for your 50 or less contest.
I went to your “The I am Sorry People” for my inspiration.
As part of the poem at the end there’s is a questionku.
To add to the challenge I made my poem exactly 50 words.
Thanks for hosting these contests. ;0)
All the faithful share in understanding
Handing on revealed truth
They have received the anointing of the Eternal Holy Spirit
Who instructs them
And Guides them into all truth
The whole body of the faithful
Cannot err in matters of belief
This characteristic is shown in the supernatural appreciation of faith
(sensus fidei)
The part of the whole people
When from the bishops to the last faithful
They manifest a universal consent in matters of faith
Morals
By the appreciation of the faith
Aroused
Sustained the spirit of truth
The
People of God guided by the sacred teaching authority {(Magisterium)
Receives…
The faith
Once for all delivered to the saints…
The people unfailingly adheres to this faith
Penetrates it more deeply with right judgment
Applies it more fully in daily life
1162015
Ghouls and vampires
angels and demons.
The Winchesters retire
satans archaic legion.
Sam, the younger
of the hunters,
gains strength from demon blood,
his crack, this cures his hunger.
Dean, the older of the two
his heavy fists make him a brute.
Once died, became satans dude,
revived, the brothers feud.
Name withheld until contest is over
5/10/2010
Janet went down to the honky-tonk
for some line-dancing and some beer,
down to a joint called ‘Edna Mae’s,’
she always had a good time here.
Old Edna, tattooed, worked the bar,
three bikers player pool, one guy scarred,
a country band played Hank up front,
soon her first beer Janet had drunk.
She joined in with all the dancers
and did soon find herself besides
a blond-haired cowboy who moved well,
with such deep, haunting, grey eyes.
After working a sweat both took leave,
at the bar he said,”Hi, I’m Steve.”
Up and down Janet’s eyes did roam,
he was the type she could take home.
They both did shots, rot-gut whiskey,
then made their way back to the floor,
there they both kept up the hot moves,
for another full hour more.
In a corner the two made out,
she took his hand and led him down
the front steps towards her small car,
for adult fun, they would go park.
But Steve froze at the sight of it,
then ripped his hand clean from her grasp.
he turned and sprinted for the bar,
she’d never seen a man move so fast.
Confused, she followed him back in,
could not find Steve, started looking,
half-hour passed, he was not found,
she went to the bar, and sat down.
Janet told Edna about it,
who listened to what Janet did say.
Edna smiled, and asked softly:
“Did this man have deep eyes of grey?”
Janet confirmed the truth of this,
Edna said,”Come to my office.”
She took down a picture, carefully,
said,”Took this back in ’eighty-three.”
Janet gasped at the image there,
what she saw then beggared belief,
where, dressed in nineteen eighties clothes,
was the young, grinning face of Steve!
“He was my partner’s son, you know.
He rode the local rodeos.
But then in eighty-three he died,
murdered, in the lot outside.”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
Eyes like fantastic moons that shiver in some stagnant lake
folded like a white rose-leaf
hair was golden as tints of sunrise
tongue is like a scarlet snake.
It took on deep roar as of a cloven world
running to and fro like frightened sheep
face as imperturbable as fate.
It began to roar with that sibilant sound which resembles the hiss of a serpent
and turned on me like a thunder-cloud.
Frightened like a child in the dark
anxiety hung like a dark impenetrable cloud.
My face collapsed as if it were a pricked balloon
And my hair was as harsh as tropical grass and gray as ashes.
My impulse came and went like fireflies in the dusk.
Life stretched before me alluring and various as the open road
like serpents struggling in a vulture's grasp
my body broken as a turning wheel.
My breath travel to Heaven like vapor goes
And my head was like a great bronze bell with one thought for the clapper.
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer
my mind swayed idly like a water-lily in a lake.
My spirit seemed to beat the void, like the bird from out the ark
My thoughts came yapping and growling round me like a pack of curs
fled like a spirit from the room.
I vanished like the shapes that float upon a summers dream.
“Carry on my Wayward Son”,
Now you’re “Back in Black”,
You’re on the “Highway to Hell”,
But, I know you’ll be right back!
You act just like a “Renegade”,
Please “Don’t Fear the Reaper”,
“I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore”,
I know that you’re a keeper!
You have the “Eye of the Tiger”,
But, you’re never “Cold as Ice”,
I get “More than a Feeling”,
Then I pay the price!
You were “Born to be Wild”,
“Bad Company”, is all you keep,
Whenever there’s a “Bad Moon Rising”,
You hardly ever sleep!
You always run “Hot Blooded”,
I’ll be “Burnin’ for You” forever,
We should take a “Slow Ride”,
Why can’t we just be together?
Mantle--a fluid shelf that cradles all existence;
Soil--a table that nurtures all subsistence
Flora--a cultivated canvas that neutralizes resistance;
Fauna--a habituated benefactor of indulgence.
Wind--a mysterious force of ambivalence,
Dispersing seed and spore with diligence.
Fondling cloak that cools with benevolence;
Powerful menace that uproots with violence.
Fire, generative force imbuing hearth with resilience;
A temporal light that provides luminescence.
Warming incubator, glowing candescence,
Brooding killer scorching with indifference.
Water--a random discharge of providence.
A vast reservoir of expedience.
An enervating stream that fuels with prescience;
An extractor that disperses with each recurrence.
Immutable elements with primordial affluence;
Material objects manipulated for human ascendence.
When God sneezes it's a
lightening show
Because when lightening flashes
it is not slow
Thunder clashes and the clouds
they show
Gods nose is running
but pure is the flow
Some may say God doesn't
catch colds
But if God can get angry
why can't he catch colds
Some may say
what are his symtoms
When clouds are grey
and thunder grumbling
all of a sudden
a sonic boom
and a flash of light
you can't tell me
that's voluntary
so lets just call it
a sneeze
The feel that makes every young mind anxious,
The topic which is never ending and mysterious.
Having felt an existence of good power,
Can't deny the probability of existence of evils.
When negative power is at its highest at 3am,
Rest of the day is reserved for godly powers !
Ouija boards are the fun factors in college life,
But bad souls can ruin that for an entire life !
Watching horror movies is fun,
Until you see a tag 'Based on true events' !
Every human being has a super natural power,
But many of them die living a normal life.
Discovering the supernatural power in us is difficult,
But as we all know nothing is impossible......
Every day is the same
Wondering why nothing
Ever changes, ever.
Thinking about what would
Happen if everyone listened.
Listened to what I have to say.
Wanting to be someone more
than just another face in a crowd,
hidden by the happiness of others.
Thirteen years old, 8th grade,
dance team, playing in school band,
scarier than ever.
Looking for my place in
This treacherous world,
Full of drama and hate.
Soon everyone will
See how they've hurt me
Even though I am nothing.
All I am is an ordinary girl in a
supernatural world.
All I will ever
Be is a lonely face
In this supernatural realm.
When I look around at my fellow students
All I see is better
Than me stuck up snobs
Who don't care.
I will always be
The face in the
Crowd that is smart.
I will always be
The face in the
Crowd that is beautiful.
Inside and out.
I will always be
The ordinary girl
Who actually cares.
No one can
Change who I am
Who I will always be
Who I have created.
I will always believe
In myself and others I
Am close too whether
Or not you believe in me.
I will trust myself more
Than I trust the bullies.
Now I am saying this
To all the girls who are judged
For who they are.
Now we all must
Stand up to the bullies
That are no better than us.
Now that we have
A force of victims
We will win
This battle has
Gone on too long, it is
time for it to end.
Now we walk through
The halls of our schools
With chins held high.
Now I walk through
The halls with my chin
Held high, to the bullies
Of this supernatural world.
- written 12/4/17
...Janet’s eyes went wide at the words,
Edna said,”It was so tragic.
Steve would come dance on Friday nights,
with the girls he worked his magic.
He met a woman that that dark night,
had no idea she was a wife.
Her husband came up, in a rage,
found them in her car, ‘at play.’
“He smashed the window with a gun,
they say he was seeing red,
aimed at Steve and opened fire,
putting three rounds into his head.
He fled the scene, up to Glendow,
the police found him hiding out.
The jury his life didn’t spare,
they gave that bastard the chair.
“The wife was shattered by the act,
some say that she moved up north,
can’t say for sure, but I know that,
she never came here no more.
A year later Steve reappeared,
and gave a girl a night of cheer,
just to flee before the 'fun,'
my dear, you’re not the only one.
“It seems every two months I speak
to another young thing like you,
most of them don’t believe it,
but I swear these words are true.
Steve just never had his fill,
and I fear that he never will.
Forever bound up by the wrong,
here his spirit lingers on.”
Janet retreated from the room,
bracing herself against the door,
desperately she scanned the bar,
looking out on the dance floor.
Steve still was absent from the crowd,
she didn’t know what to do now,
so she made for the entrance-way,
for in this place she could not stay.
But outside the fear faded fast,
and a breeze tussled her hair,
gently, like a lover’s hand,
as if somebody stood there.
A simple, quiet presence that
she knew deep down could not be bad.
Perhaps Steve really was a ghost,
certainly much kinder than most.
to spend all of your afterlife
sweeping the cowgirls off their feet,
she supposed there could be worse ways
to live out an eternity.
Bittersweetness ran through her mind,
she said,”Thanks Steve, for the good time.
Tonight stood out amongst the best,
and I pray, some day, you’ll find you’re rest….”
Miriam Colrick and her husband Brad,
tired of dank cities, crumbling and bad,
moved to New Hampshire, bought themselves a farm,
a place they could raise children without harm.
Fifty-six acres, half-forest, half-field,
space to stretch out, live a life that was real,
the only downside of their new homestead?
Some of the locals said it was haunted.
Miriam was not sure she believed their claims,
her first three months were quiet and plain,
neighbors said from there a boy had been kidnapped,
and later two murdered when a farmer snapped.
All sorts of stories, so many dark deeds,
but Miriam and Brad paid them little heed,
in fact those three months brought them much joy,
Miriam fell pregnant, expecting a boy!
It was shortly after that things went off-track,
first she felt many chills run down her back,
then sounds late at night, doors opened and closed,
in Brad’s kitchen garden nothing would grow.
And strangely a picture fell from its frame
the moment they decided to name him James,
fear started creeping to Miriam’s face
when she found the living room all out of place.
But Brad was not the superstitious type,
dismissed all the sounds they heard at night,
“It is an old house, they’re all bound to creak,
and there’s plenty of strange sounds in the country.”
And so it kept on until one midnight dim,
the baby was kicking, Miriam felt him,
but she heard a squeaking in the bathroom,
figured it was dripping, got up in the gloom.
She drew near to see handles move back and fourth,
then glanced in the mirror, cried out in horror,
a half-butchered face was what she them saw,
gurgling horrible, and missing his jaw.
Then a force shoved her, smashed her to the sink,
blackness enveloped her, could not even think,
later Brad told her the one thing he heard
was a distorted and evil laughter.
She came too resting in a hospital bead,
her husband said sadly,”The baby…is dead.”
It was many hours that she wept and sobbed,
nearly broken by the life that was robbed.
People all said it was an accident,
with no money to move, back home they went,
though they paid a priest to bless their farmhouse,
hoping that his words would cast evil out...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Chupacabra came in the night
It gave everyone great fright
Jack shouted a loud "Boo!”
Chupacabra withdrew
and hid in shadow out of sight.
Super sexy brothers
Usually chilling in a car,
Particularly a '67 Chevy Impala
Entertaining the ladies and having fun.
Really creepy monsters,
Never doing anything good,
Angels don't even care,
They're too concerned about God being missing.
Usually a character dies
Really, it's like every episode this happens.
At least Sam and Dean don't ever die
Lol, that's a good one