Long Curdling Poems
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A game played by gents they say
But at over ninety miles an hour
A fast bowled cricket ball
Really has some striking power.
A longed for confrontation between
A superb bowler and a class batter.
A match on a wicket so benign
Every ball just got flatter and flatter,
Until he managed to dig one in
And get that little bit extra rise
Which, were it not for his visor solid
have blacked both the batters eyes.
With a blood curdling yell he ran
Up the pitch swinging his bat around
And Following it up with a vicious kick
Felled that bowler to the ground.
Bloody body line bowling he said
I’ve just about had enough
Time you bloody bowlers realised
Us batters can cut up rough
I suppose now he said
There’s not much doubt
The bloody Ump will decide
Ive been and run myself out.
After a quick toe jab to the ribs
Causing the fielders much alarm
He strode manfully from the field
Bat tucked firmly under his arm.
And that’s how it happened when
Under a constant bodyline attack
All the class batters decided it
Was past time they all struck back.
And so the disciplines split
As a result of that fateful morn
And, in the fullness of time
Combat Cricket was finally born,
A cloth tag on my bed disturbs me
So much so that it woke me up from sleep
I prayed that it would go away
In reality it will be there till doomsday
But that's not all
I know the ways of labels
They get their way
Manufacturers protect them
So does the law
It reads as plain as day
“Do Not Remove This Tag Under Penalty of Prosecution
or Persecution”
Some such nonsense…something like that….
It's too much for a simple man like me
I fear authority and prison
But I can't continue with this obnoxious thing
First, I placed a pillow over it
Tags don't need oxygen to breath
Labels are persistent, persevering
Even resolute in their condition to prevail
I could shoot it with a gun
No. That's no good
Smoke and noise don't scare it
Bullets hardly tear it
A relentless dangling appendage to the end remains
Clinging to the ends of beds
Duct tape was next
But I knew that words continued underneath
Also hidden by sheets
The butcher knife would have to do
Savagely removed…blood curdling rips and cuts
I blew a fuse..... My bed is new
No one could refute that now
Now my life is through
I am tagged as a bed label fugitive
Furniture police men hunt me down
I could be executed… or incarcerated
Made to make amends, repairs… or even face the chair
The blood curdling screams rang out into the night
The little beggars were dragging someone to their lair
Huddled together, trembling with fear, we closed our eyes
She whispered “Do you think they will come?”
I held my breath and forced my hand across her frail chin
There was nothing I could do or say to ward off the knockers
Paralyzed I watched her as she bit deep her lips drawing drops of blood
As the screams echoed into the black night air I grabbed a bottled drink
The putrid odor caused me to wretch but I forced a sip
She pushed it away causing the grey, dank liquid to spill
What had we become? Monsters, sickly beings, animals
This was no life for a human, this was not our world
It began with what they called a pandemic, a virus
We were forced to isolate, forced to wear masks, our identities were lost
The vaccine came in a hurry, one dose or two, it was forced on everyone
The elderly got sick first, hair loss, teeth breaking, nails turning black
Then animals changed dogs grew long sharp teeth and doubled in size
Cats turned to mangy horrific beasts that would gnaw tails until they fell off
A nightmare began nation against nation, trickery from those in power
The sun was barely visible, plants wilted and turned to mush
The water changed to a grey gel and then the eclipse hit
Once the moon covered the sun it froze and our world became dark
Freezing temperatures killed off many of the children
The heat suits were rationed and some malfunctioned burning those inside
No one survived the burns, it was as if they melted in the suit
The little beggars with their pointy ears and scraggly hair would run up and drag the remains away leaving nothing but a burn mark in their wake
We, the survivors live in fear, costumed in soiled rags, visions fading into darkness
05/02/2021
Written for A Poem of Horror Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Funom Makama
12/13/23
Secrets still buried
Stories in the wind got carried
Historical accounts occasionally varied
The truth can be sad and scary
We've barely
Discovered much so spare me
The same can be said for things happening fairly
Since the dawn of time it occurred rarely
Causes with a dark past humans still worshipping
The cauldron folks continue stirring
Waters people are murking
So much unknown, instead of starting to worry
I try to find answers but it can't be done in a hurry
Somewhat disturbing
And blood curdling
Could it be water that caused such a shape and curving?
This planet twirling at 1000 mph constantly whirling
Every night tossing and turning
I was hurting
My vision sometimes blurring
Minimal ground I've been traversing
This weed I'm endlessly burning
Toward a fast death I'm hurling
It's difficult to find the right wording
The cycle still circling
The truth is emerging
And surfacing
Energy dispersing
Or combining and converting
Then it starts surging
To some it's unnerving
During my time on Earth I'm searching
No matter if others are deterring
I'm still unearthing
Sometimes smirking
Nearby curbing
I'm determining
It can never be found by purchasing
It's concerning
For so long people have been serving
Evil always lurking
Showing no mercy
I'm constantly learning
During this journey
No adjourning
The hands of time turning
There's endless controversy
That's occurring
It's not always working
Such concepts use to irk me
(Birds sing above Earthlings) or (birdies chirping above earthlings)
It briefly takes the mind off the worst things
Yet I still feel like cursing
Toward no destination I've been surfing
Mind all over the place still swerving
For more I'm yearning
Something inside churning
A fool splurging
Yet again swirling down the drain go my earnings
I still can't get it right even after rehearsing
What a joke feeling like a ghost the recipient of shirking
How am I already not on a gurney?
Hark! Halloween breeds an open season of gloom,
For others, the very thought would not fill the room,
Tonight, Jack O' Lanterns give off a soft warm glow,
With the guidance of moonlight and young eyes aglow
I hear a chorus of laughter for trick or treat,
As rich buckets overflow with surplus sweetmeat,
Creepy costumed silhouettes flood through the stark night,
And if they knock, please beware and accept your plight
Full darkness is descending, I feel icy dread,
From a blood curdling scream, that could wake up the dead,
A young child weeping, whose parents cannot console,
His bounty of treasured gains, swindlers grabbed and stole
In my lost state, I can give no consolation,
For I am just a mere humble aberration,
I glide towards the tranquil place of the deceased,
Where the walking dead fables have not ceased
My former maid, a kind-hearted apparition,
Hands me my tea, smiling, to ease my affliction,
You see at Halloween, no need to fear the dead,
Be on your upmost guard for the living instead
27/11/22
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Halloween poetry contest
howmanysyllables.com
rhymezone.com
Party invitations popped up in everyone’s hand.
The Wizard invited everyone special in the land.
With magic galore, it was destined to be grand.
He made sure good fairies and elves were banned.
To respond they were invited to RSVP The Wizard.
On the menu would be yummy fricassee of gizzard.
And a huge bowl of sautéed toad eyes with lizard.
The host planned it was held on a night of a blizzard.
All in readiness as the guests were arriving first.
Were offered blood cocktails to quench their thirst.
Little did they know the drinks were cursed.
Sit tight you haven’t as yet even heard the worst.
For entertainment a banshee wailed a blood curdling song.
Dracula danced with Medusa to slow songs all night long.
When he tried to bite her neck, her snakes came on strong.
Witches and goblins, ghosts and ghouls all shared a bong.
Pinning the tail on the donkey beware as the donkey kicks.
Not bobbing for apples in a barrel, these were live chicks.
There were ghastly horror movies playing, Taylor Swift flicks.
All had nightmares after the party the Wizard was up to his tricks.
One winter eve I walked out with my dog,
The way was dark, unlit by moon and stars,
My flickering torchlight failing in the fog,
To pick out tree roots,crevices and rocks,
To cause a stumble, and a muffled curse.
Whatever else was lurking in the trees,
Silent and still, in my mind grew worse,
As an unfolding midnight dream turned sour.
I knew the the path. We trod it every day,
So filled with pleasure and delight 'til now.
My step quickened. I could not shrug away
A feeling of disquiet and unease,
Palpable amidst the encircling gloom.
Nocturnal creatures scarcely made a sound
But it was magnified, a crack of doom,
A falling twig, or rustling dried-up leaves,
Predators unseen, darkly eyeing prey,
Their evil presence almost within touch,
Waiting the chance to carry me away,
To drag me to some foul and putrid nest,
Never again to see the light of day.
With tensions high and senses all alert,
Out of the dark, a touch upon my leg.
Startled and fearing, a step back I lurched,
And then relief. It had been but a nudge
From Ross. Perhaps he sensed and shared
My fright, but then, from out the stillness of the night,
A fearsome roar. My feet turned into stone.
Blood curdling, heart stopping, the monstrous sound
Echoed around us. Frozen to the spot,
My breathing stopped. I could not turn around
To flee. And then again it came, so close, it seemed
To set the very trees a-quivering.
What beast was this, what wild and hellish fiend ?
More furious bellowing, on and on
And on, and still I could not see the source.
Turning to run, the path had disappeared.
Crashing through entangled briars, ditches,
Fallen trees, scratched and bleeding, soon I feared,
Mud-soaked and stumbling now, that i was lost.
Still I heard the creature, somewhere behind,
Roaring, bellowing, angry with the night.
I fell into a muddy ditch, half blind,
And scrambled through the slime, hoping I might
Emerge at the wood's edge, so close to home
But, helpless, I was sucked into the mire,
Down,down and deeper down, now filled with fear,
Breathing in mud, heart pounding, lungs on fire.
No hope, no light ahead, my end was near.
I reached the bottom. Now let truth be said.
What did I find? I'd fallen out of bed !
And that, dear reader, though I am not one to brag,
Was my encounter with the rutting Lyth Hill stag !
Just a garden variety generic wordsmith
teasing out reasonable rhyme courtesy ploy;
self plagiarizing boot juiced barely abiding
by ruff dogma, with enigmatic joie
de vivre charisma,
which oft times witnessed
gentle green giant gentile goy
essentially me being a decoy
occasionally rocketing, outsourcing,
kickstarting, feigning
tubby an Anchorite, ahoy!
Life in the K9 corps
ain't so doggone ease zee
absolutely daunting, hence
lemme share with ye
haunting, and unnerving, the whee
kid nasty, short, and brutish
ways, and truth be told,
I would rather be outwardly
hidebound, gagged, and flagellated
(threatened tubby slowly
strangled to death by bonafide vee
numb muss snakes, yours truly
screaming bloody murder,
viper esse scent chilly resembling
caduceus), and/or re:
peat head lee bitten
(till death do us part)
by vampire (weekend) bats pre
dominant lee inhabiting
spooky attic, nee
above cattle crying
abattoir, bovines bull heave -
meeting grisly demise, where prowling
hoodlums - vicious murderous electric
kool aid acid tested gang
infesting mean streets -
viz hit head hay be us corpse lee
ving shot up desolation
(think skidrow) role much
more blood curdling, key
ping adrenaline heart pounding,
and sweat pouring directive hee
ping helplessness 'specially,
when this gree
gear re: us macho foo fighter,
accompanied by my grateful
dead cutting crew - on free
key Friday the 13th
assigned directive to man
the most crime ridden, and be
dev filled violent bailiwick,
donning head to toe
bulletproof suit vests.
Nevertheless, yours truly fraught with
horrendously extreme
difficulty, and more
challenging, enduring, and grueling
than surviving training
undertaking associated
with elite military clique,
and attendant rightfully
earned linkedin prestige
joining: Raiders of United
States Marine Corp,
Green Berets United States Army
Special Forces, or Navy Seals.
The moonlight shimmered on the winding road
A chilled wind rolled to battle and smite
Slicing through the fog and croaking toads
There was a blood curdling scream heard that night
The fog's hand choked the throat of graves,
as it passed the stone bridge grasping its iron gate
Tall stones stood like marbled guards that wait
These sentries for death moonlight illuminates
A caretaker's eyes welded to shadows moving slow
A scream, a wolf's howl pierced to intervene,
the dark wings that flew by a dead willow
Frightened the caretaker, his imagination he gleans
No one knows of the caretaker's fate,
or of the shadowed wings he had seen
At each full moon near halloween,
a scream and wolf's call is heard pure and clean
They say ghosts had risen in the fog in flight,
by the stone bride with its iron gate
There was a blood crudling scream heard that night
contest Ghost Stories
10/23/14
I hear her
When, in stillness – peace,
She surrounds me with her promises,
Light, mist on the morning, hope
Lifting away all the doubt, the darkness
With a feeling, a soul stirring scream
I hear her
Beating, in rhythm – harmonizing,
She echoes in reflections of sweet joy,
Soft, erasing all the night’s stardust dreams,
Inspiring me to give my best, my heart
To the moments of laughter, the scream
I hear her
Dancing, in tune – waltzing,
Breathing hope through the spirit,
Singing as the leaves whisper, falling
Autumn remembering summer’s hesitation
To hide behind the beautiful, blood curdling scream
I hear her
When, at noon – cloudless skies
Embrace the earth, tempting, satisfying
Reassuring the soul that together with time
We can arrive at our destination, our finish
Pouring out forever in the spirit’s the scream
I hear her
Gifting my heart with light, intense
Feelings so gentle, so giving, so willing
To agree with second thoughts, the secret
Hopes flooding, flowing through the brilliance
A love that agrees, passionate, a scream
I hear her
Like melancholy and memory, singing
The rich, cool alto – then soprano, notes
Pure gold, God’s voice pleading with us all
Nature, forever – endless treasures of hope
Foreseeing the everlasting life, in the wildness of a heart
– the scream, fading into destiny, graceful
Like a peace that can’t be seen or touched
The scream is anxious and floods the hopes
With winds that blow through the oaks
Satisfying the blossoms, the laurels and pines,
Preparing hearts for reality’s chime, the vibrant highs
Determined by the blood curdling scream of sunset’s trembling
Blending with endless feelings…
Blessing away the scream’s repeating over the ridges,
Soundless, yet – still resonating such an ache
Fleeting heartbreak, yearning for the peace that comes
With the dawn, the serenity that takes
Away the scream’s raspy voice, it’s exasperating grating
The scream… it drains the wish from the dreamer