Long Creepy Poems
Long Creepy Poems. Below are the most popular long Creepy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Creepy poems by poem length and keyword.
Edgar Rice Burroughs went beyond stars
To write of epics of Thuvia the maid of Mars,
Of Tarzan raised by Apes and Venus and Pellucidar,
Having stuck to his pen and paper, not wandering afar.
We had Wells going to the moon,
Writing of science fiction, reality soon,
Of time machines and stuff,
(Which will be true, soon enough.)
How about Asimov's drama
The magnificent Rendezvous with Rama,
Of the books of Wilbur Smith,
Or the mythical Lamia and Lilith?
There are tales, you need not be told,
In Poesian and Lovecraftian mould,
Creepy tales of horror and terror;
And even Cowboys and desperadoes in pointy sombreros.
Stephen King I really admire,
My nerves get taut as a wire.
His tales too many to name,
His genre is a completely new ball-game.
There's Dante and Milton, for sure,
And great bards and sages some more.
Once you get know 'em
You'll surely love their poems.
With Michener I ramble,
His is a historical ensemble.
Through history and time,
His sagas are sublime.
What of my ilk, the poets?
Their mind gets a spark and they do it,
No topics insane,
Their minds are arcane.
I can write and write
All through the night
Not stopping except when
I run out of ink for my pen.
With writing your mind is unfettered
Your brain gets definitely bettered
Of course you have to be well-read
Else the block will trouble your head.
As a writer you preen and you strut
Even without moving your butt.
So it's writing, any kind, I love -
I think it's a blessing from above!
~ 04 Jun 2016~
I found my voice in a witch’s pitch,
only to have it ripped away.
I was freed wearing a cloak,
until the calendar packed it up.
I’ve got the creepy girl blues
and it’s not even over yet.
I found my way on the darkest day,
until someone tried to cheer me up.
I was smiling beneath a painted frown
until the Sun melted it right off.
I’ve got the creepy girl blues
and it’s not even over yet.
I was so happy to finally reveal
all that skin beneath such timid wings.
I was out of control for a moment,
until I had to be reeled back in.
The winds that cut me wide open,
their nightmare had barely begun.
It hasn’t even happened yet,
I’ve got the creepy girl blues.
If I was hungry I would devour that creepy thing I think.
It is something tasty that crawled out of my sink
You don’t even know what it is my friend says.
She is persnickety and picky, my pal Inez.
Look at its legs, I reply. They look tickly tasty.
Not so fast! Says the crawler. Let’s not be hasty!
Inez says “I never eat food that speaks to me.”
“I will make an exception,” I say, “That thing is free.”
Inez is not as choosy as I thought that she was.
I begin bathing the sink creature, fluffing his fuzz.
"Wait!" the crawly thing says. “That brush is too short for me!”
The second I stop, he scuttles down the drain to flee.
I love my wife with claws so sharp
Tentacles sure to squeeze me tight
The fangs that sink into my heart
Consuming blood for pleasure
Keeping me alive vampire like for money
One eye positioned at the center of her head
Another one in back behind the hair
For good measure to watch me coming
And going from the past with attention to detail
A glare, like a lighthouse blinking out hope
A beacon from my giant uni-brow wife
Guiding me on to the right side of the rocks
Where crashes are inevitable up ahead
Nearer to heaven than one might expect
I know what is good but she knows better
It is best to keep ones mouth shut in front of honey
My one hump hunchback. Why not make it three
Through troubled waters she is still my wifie pooh
According to her decree and she is always creepy
Watching me from the back
Parting her hair in the middle just a little
Which is no small matter but a little scary
I don't really know her name but that's ok
She stands ten feet tall or better
Carries a machete in her iron clad hands
She is my two eyed wife with one in the front
And the other out back which is fine
So long as they both don't stare at the same time
Sometimes I'm afraid
I'm a man and men don't understand
It is better to do as she says because she is enormous
I love her because she is there
And she never misses with a knife
She is the misses and I am always in her sights
Take me away from the place I am
it's comforts have long ceded
Boarded are my old neighbor's homes
I feel as though my street I am alone
I bolt the doors turn on the porch lights
hoping to disarm any theft at night
sleepy edgy and ever slight
It's time for a new home
Well I miss the old spread
for decades in it I made my bed
Family and friends echo from the walls
so many tears and laughter to recall
The roses that bloomed every spring
in summer the smell of lilacs sing
The kitchen big the bedrooms small
the linen door that won't stay shut in the hall
Old and creepy worn and dim
looks like my house will faint, so many repairs needed
The city demolished the old Jones house
and soon to be gone is that of the widow Faust
I could patch up my house and make it swell
but I fear alone with vacant lots I would dwell
It's time to move but would my place even sell
looking for a new home
Poindexter sat and stared at the new fellow with the sneaky eyes
He hated him, plotting this creepy guy’s downfall and demise.
It was a contest of wills, and they were both winning.
Poindexter was irritated; this jerk looked full of sinning.
Why sit there all day? Miss Tutters asked him, once and again.
This opponent looked tough, and Poindexter always liked to win.
Go play!.There’s your mousey and favorite catnip ball.
He decided to get it over for once and all.
He backed up and wiggled his ass good, but then realized.
Interloper was mimicking his every move, to his horrified surprise!
Tutters began to titter, as they both leaped through the air and hit.
Bang! His nose felt like it had been smashed more than a bit.
What kind of sorcery is this? He demanded. Tutters began to titter
She had to leave him at home that night, so she paid for a cat sitter.
Sitter watched him do the same thing and laughed until she cried.
Poindexter knew he would never like this cat who was sneaky-eyed.
juiced spare moments,
and tubby direct, ernest and frank
lemme communicate without resorting
to caginess,
but NON GMO, gluten free roaming thoughts to thank
ye (Amelie Beth), and Rich McGeehan
for welcoming a small group
of family and friends
to your Woodbury, New Jersey abode,
somewhat near Redbank
to relish the salad days of times gone by,
when as kids residing in Audubon
or Collegeville, Pennsylvania,
we tricked each other with a harmless prank
such as hiding a fuzzy wuzzy Willie,
or scaring the other
with the molded Creepy People that doth rank
as laughably innocent, these topsy turvy times,
when faith no more
eroded camaraderie among village people
unity withal fellow Americans did tank
especially as the world wide web
iz going necessitate thee
to fill in the BLANK
thus moments to share
a tasty repast did help me to crank
out this artichokes gibberish,
which when placed
atop pyramid of cranberries sank.
as didst this heart of darkness
within soul asylum
of papa and momma genes
to two beautiful young women
re: daughters, whose absence
felt as gloomy fiends
similar to the Ogre encountered,
when goose that laid golden egg stolen
by Jack and beanstalk
of story book fame as a cash cow means.
She wore a skull on her belt, but it was small
And it did not have hair on it or flesh,
so the parents thought it was a faux skull.
But it was the real deal, just shrunken afterwards
She walked the halls in a weird way,
without putting her feet down, so you did not hear her
coming which was a bit creepy at first
Horrifying later
The kindergarteners were the first to be totally
terrified of Queen, our new principal. They began
crying, sobbing, wailing, keening at the first assembly
When she introduced herself with her perfect
blonde hair and her perfect skin
Skin she apparently stole from
others who were more deserving of it.
I know she prowls in the evening and eats her
fill, slurping warm salty blood out of necks before
her victim understands they are paralyzed and cannot
save themselves in any way at all.
She walks the halls in a sneaky, non-sounding way.
Horrifying those of us who recognize her.
I keep waiting for her to realize who we are
so she will know what she has to do.
Every day, I keep wide awake, with my eyes
to the door, hypervigilant of who she is and what she
is about; knowing my days are numbered, as yours are too.
Even as a third grader, I recognize evil when I smell her.
I strolled beneath a barren wood,
feeling maligned, misunderstood.
Late night attempts at cloning sheep
bore little else but lack of sleep.
My research grant had been denied,
so I, exhausted, bleary-eyed,
set out on foot to clear the mind,
to leave unfinished work behind.
I heard a scream from up ahead,
looked up and saw some steps that led
to a small cottage on the hill
whence that shriek came, so sharp and shrill.
Then, walking through the open door,
a feeling I'd been here before
soon filled me with a sense of dread,
a primal urge to bolt instead.
The light had gone from gloam to gloom,
the darkness, heavy, in the room.
Descending stairs, unknown below,
footprints gave off a creepy glow.
The tanks I saw gave me the sweats,
for there, familiar silhouettes:
suspended in that gelatin
were newly forming skeletons.
Enshrouded in the finest mesh,
they grew translucent, living flesh.
A figure fiddled with the tank,
and as he turned, my heart stopped, sank...
The harshest trick for Halloween:
for he was I, in ghastly sheen.
----------
for the Halloween Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet
written on 10/25/22
Black cats dart across my path
As I head down the street
Children hide and spook their friends
And all around shout “Trick or treat!”
It’s Halloween! It’s Halloween!
Hear them scream! A scary dream!
Witches gliding past the moon
Riding fast upon their brooms
The dead are rising from the grave
Their restless souls rant and rave
Pumpkins on the fence posts grin
And on the porches frown
It seems tonight like everything
Has been turned upside down
It’s Halloween! It’s Halloween!
Hear them scream! A scary dream!
Some children squeal with delight
While others shriek with fright
What a night!
In these darkest hours, evil deeds are done
Smashing pumpkins, egging houses
Some kids think it’s fun
Oh, what a night!
It’s Halloween! It’s Halloween!
Hear them scream! A scary dream!
Draped in orange, white, and black
Children fill their candy sacks
Door to door
More and more
Little ghosts in sheets
Wander down the street
At each house they collect sweets
Every time they yell “Trick or treat!”
Bats fluttering through the air
Werewolves roaming everywhere
Creepy, crawling spiders
Pumpkin pie and apple cider
It’s Halloween! It’s Halloween!
Hear them scream! A scary dream!