Eerie Poems - Poems about Eerie

They hang like a beaded curtain in a fortune teller’s parlor, each buoy a bauble from the sea’s own trove— sun-faded, barnacle-bitten, unstrung from nets that once strained tides for omens. Now they sway in the wind, rattling secrets and guarding the doorway to elsewhere. Who dwells behind the curtain— a castaway witch, perhaps, who brews fog in mason jars and weaves seaweed into...

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Eventually got my final sleep tapping my soul miles deep. Drift into the dream unknown, where the mysteries of the past are sown. Can't withstand the view I saw, grasping my chest as regret claws. My head thrashed wildly to and fro, the storm of dread began to grow. Mustered the courage, I rolled my fear like a worn-out sleeve, The shadows whispered, begged...

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(From the novel: The Truth About Make-Believe by Mickey Grubb) Standing in the middle of the rear seat, the tiny legs moved quickly from side to side to keep the rest of the body upright and in place as the car made its way through the night over narrow, winding West Virginia roads. There had to be someone in the...

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In the cold hands of death, the child laid, To heaven her soul had quickly strayed. Her face still looked fresh like a new dawn, But with the sunshine far away gone. To where death rules with an iron hand, And his eerie touch none can withstand....

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a single heart thick as wax pressed into the earth’s embrace it does not wither does not break only waits in silence--patient, watching its vines creep slow twisting tight coiling round the throat of time whisper soft it calls their names a voice like wind through hollow bone come and see come rest your hands upon the leaves still warm with breath they lean in close they never know until the roots...

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surrounded by trees a trailer lies in decay the front door tugged by the wind a home left behind littered with animal waste shadows seep from doors ajar...

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The witches finger When night time falls on Halloween if you`re near the woods don’t linger For if you stand to long this night you`ll feel the Witches finger. It`s long and crooked with a pointy nail its skin is rough and grey It comes alive on Halloween night but dead and black by day. She wakens up but once...

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Darkness emerged from a creepy black shadow, Bringing along silence with its spooky loads, If not for the scary croaks of flirting toads, The loud silence would have begged to have a foe. As the night sky unfolded its sombre frowns, Towering trees loomed, casting an eerie light. The silhouettes of their branches, a haunting sight, In that gloom, even nothing wore...

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Streaks of pallid moonlight wash over blood-stained burnt umber leaf blight. Glistening stainless steel remains within wilting noir roses and blistered blades of grass. Sickening hands shake my repose, heart racing, sure to collapse, feeling faint. A revolting nausea elevates, trying to find restraint, ...

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Scintilla experienced an eerie foreboding the house at 125 Klondike Street felt unsafe she sensed that it had brought doom to occupants she was shaking her head no when her husband said “we’ll take it.” She took him aside and explained her feelings, but he would not budge. Something about it called to him as fiercely as she was repulsed...

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Swaying branches spy as secret spooks in canopy’s dungeon Creepers knitted around trunks like ornamented bead chains Suspended pillar roots appear as the matted hair of Lord Shiva. Hoarse noises as non-rhythmic beats of an amateur drummer Serpents dragging their bodies on dried leaves with cracklings Hoots, chirps, clicks, and whoops from the crowns of trees Whispers of exhausted leaves...

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An eerie calm has been encroaching as dawn's pale light approaches the realm of what is usually a normal morning but no songbirds are softly trilling today They've all taken shelter from the storm the one that rumbles ever nearer... she comes One of nature's evil forces is on her way a strengthening femme fatale I fear has set her course due north Her...

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The crackling sound In deep seabed Like rain outside....

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In the twilight hours, a sense of eerie panic drapes the land, A silent fear, like a shadow of a forgotten truth, Uncertainty whispers through the crumbling walls of once-reliable faiths, Institutions that stood like ancient oaks, now hollow, fragile, trembling. There is a Presidential Election, marked on the calendar, Yet, the air is thick with a void, a chasm...

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There's an eerie feel to the air A sign of impending storm All is quieter, still, Until the birds' row begin to form The bird's row on the garden fence Wanting their turn to feed Of those seeds, which magically appear. The poet's bi-weekly good deed Species of all types come by Some fight to get a share Brown-headed cowbird, doves Cardinals, house finches...

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