YOU HAVE HEARD OF THE WRITER, BRAM STOKER,
HE WROTE ABOUT KILLING, WAS NO JOKER.
HE WOULD GO OUT EVERY NIGHT,
FOR SOME FOOD AND A QUICK BITE.
THEN TAKE SOMEONE HOME JUST, TO POKE HER.
10 10 7 7 10
SYLLABLES CHECKED.
IF I`M WRONG, BITE ME! lol
Categories:
bram stoker, fun, funny, gothic,
Form: Limerick
“I am the monster that breathing men would kill. I am Dracula.”
Bram Stoker
The successive pounding of the hammer.
The stake in his heart took my breath away.
Came the bright torches, village clamor,
the successive pounding of the hammer.
Rosin of the vampire, screeching glamour,
tightening of cold hands, recant to pray.
The successive pounding of the hammer.
The stake in his heart took my breath away.
10/28/2020
Categories:
bram stoker, dark, halloween,
Form: Triolet
If you look at ol’ Bram Stoker,
Irish writer of Dracula fame,
it can be quite hard to believe
that any remember his name.
At first just a civil servant,
then he managed a London stage,
doing books for Henry Irving,
a great actor of the age.
Then he somehow writes a novel,
of a distant, cruel vampire,
the critics liked the way he wrote,
but the book hardly inspired.
Sales were steady, but most thought it
a good thriller, nothing more,
if you said it was ‘Literary’
their jaws would’ve hit the floor.
But the book kept going steady,
it has never been out of print,
Hollywood put it on the screen,
and the studios made a mint!
It codified a sub-genre,
has defined the vampire’s ways,
when modern minds think of these fiends
they see Dracula to this day.
Henry Irving is long forgotten,
but Stoker we appreciate,
modern horror is in his debt,
you never know who will be great.
Categories:
bram stoker, books, literature, people, success,
Form: Rhyme
Hail, high denizen of tree,
not one improvident like me,
safe within your arbor's ruts,
there you keep your store of nuts.
Autumnal bunting soon must end.
and winter dearth is round the bend.
When I behold you as you nibble,
what need have I of nymph or Sibyl?
Lavish more verses on some cat!
Eliot and Gray have seen to that.
Browning did not shun the rat,
nor did Bram Stoker spurn the bat.
Is a squirrel, red or grey
a lesser poet's theme than they?
Let no distain those efforts hamper
that turn our thoughts
to those that scamper.
Categories:
bram stoker, nature, tree,
Form: Couplet
Dracula was in a fix
Blood and sweets just do not mix
The dentist had no doubt
The fangs had to come out
Goodbye to vampire’s tricks.
-------------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus ~ 13th April 2014
Contest: Be Bram Stoker for a day
Sponsor: Darren Watson
Placing: Honorable Mention
Categories:
bram stoker, humor,
Form: Limerick
She’d thought he was eyeing her rack
as with great charm, he led her out back.
But she realized too late
this would be her last date
as her neck got sucked dry by a Drac!
*For the contest of Darren Watson: Be Bram Stoker for a Day
Categories:
bram stoker, funny,
Form: Limerick
Coffin is where this creepy fellow sleeps
Other people’s blood he likes to drink
Unique teeth – shiny pointed fangs
Naked necks are his tasty midnight snack
Transylvania is his homeland, its soil gives him strength
Darkness is his only friend he works undercover of the night
Real name is Count Vladislaus Dracula
Always avoids eating garlic in his food
Cannot abide a sunny day
Unless he has a wooden stake through his heart he cannot die
Loves to shapeshift into a bat, wolf, dog or fog
Alucard is his name backwards beware he’s cunningly disguised
Jan Allison
29th March 2014
Written for contest ‘Be Bram Stoker for a day’
Sponsored by Darren Watson
~ Awarded 3rd place ~
Categories:
bram stoker, gothic, horror,
Form: Acrostic
The moon reflected on the sea,
A night more beautiful than day.
I wheezed and struggled up the steps
And looked out over Whitby Bay.
I saw the harbour far below,
And heard the splashing of the waves,
I turned around to see the church,
The ruined abbey and the graves.
I thought of Dracula, the Count,
Imagined him and Lucy there,
And then I saw a hulking shape -
But, oh, the menace in that glare.
He showed his fangs and hissed at me;
My feet were rooted to the spot.
I cried for help and waved my arms
At people on a distant yacht.
He lunged and bit into my neck;
I tried to fight but felt so weak.
And that is how I came to die -
And you’re the prey I need to seek…
for Darren's Bram Stoker contest
Categories:
bram stoker, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme
High winds - stirring sea - surf pounds - Whitby beach
Storm clouds - residual - seagulls - frantic cry
Midnight - a figure - in view - ascending
Bowed down - wearily - cliff steps - Abbey bound
Skywards - waning moon - purple - in streaking
Figure - looking down - last time - hesitates
Cliffside - beckoning - then moves - in seeing
A flash - lightening - from grave - arising
Hungry - Dracula - no escape - figure froze
Exposed - vulnerable - a scream - was stifled
No-one - witnessing - horror - stricken face
Could, would - testify - to what - next took place.
Categories:
bram stoker, character, horror,
Form: Free verse
He cuts the sun with his teeth; therefore, ashes were not at his feet.
He was born by day but his family lived by night.
This was his purpose because of his nocturnal life.
He had the life of a vampire.
No one knew his secret because his life was normal.
Inside was darkness.
This is his family embodied.
They did not worry about daylight.
They work, lived, loved, and played.
A generation never to be told and West Virginia would be there origin.
They all are white collar by vocation - the future of a great nation.
By fate, they would be rich in blood - not thirsty for others.
Once old, their thirst would form because they would desire to stay young.
Do not worry this family has to grow in which they will be a manifold.
In the world of vampires, Bram Stoker thrives.
Dracula is alive.
_______________________________________/
Motif: Vampire
Categories:
bram stoker, america, birth, body, career,
Form: Epic
I'm Dracula and a creature of the night.
I suck people's blood when I bite.
Vampires don't die, I'll be the Prince of Darkness for eternity.
Getting a stake through my heart or being in sunlight are the only things that can kill me.
I can fly when I turn myself into a bat.
I love to kill and you'd better believe that.
I will drink all of your blood if we come face to face.
People want to kill me because what I do is a disgrace.
When I drink people's blood, I always suck them dry.
A man just put a stake through my heart and now I will die.
(This poem is based on the novel that was written by Bram Stoker.)
Categories:
bram stoker, dark, halloween, horror,
Form: Rhyme
At the Borgo Pass I met a coach and horse,
And the villagers warned me not to go,
They were worried about a supernatural force,
But I had business in Transylvania, though.
The coach rumbled along the Carpathian mountain road,
Through the lightning and pounding rain,
We arrived at an old, darkened abode,
And I thought this trip was all in "vein".
But then opened the great castle door,
And the Count bid me welcome to his house,
He cast no shadow on the floor,
Where scurried a bat and a mouse.
In the mirror he cast no reflection,
On our dinner he did not dine,
And upon my curious inspection,
He drank no water or wine.
Then late that night I awoke with fright,
As something hovered over my bed,
Then I felt a quick, sharp bite,
From a vampire who's eyes glowed red.
Then cried the children of the night,
As all at once, there shined a beam,
I awoke to see a ray of sunlight,
And realized it was all just a dream.
(This poem was my tribute to "Dracula" by Bram Stoker)
Categories:
bram stoker, fantasy, horror, tribute,
Form: Quatrain