Long Gargoyle Poems
Long Gargoyle Poems. Below are the most popular long Gargoyle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gargoyle poems by poem length and keyword.
Our witches travel safely as a pair,
Our goblin’s bonfire rises into the air.
Ghouls and vampires are a gruesome sight.
Windows begin to fill with bright lights.
October moon’s roundness so rare.
Trick-or-treaters about to get a scare.
We hear them approach our haunted porch stair.
We intend to frighten with all of our might.
Gargoyle masks greet us with an evil glare.
There’s Broom Hilda. Her left shoulder is bare.
She says give us everything, if you dare!
So we go out and flip off the light.
We toss these children, twirl ‘em, give them a fright.
They get the works because we do care.
They run off scream-laughing back down our stair.
Let’s get rid of that old antique thing, my daughter said.
Was she talking about the clock? Was she loose in her head?
I pretended I had not heard her weird kind of blasphemy.
That clock was given to me by my oldest Grandma McGee.
Sure, it was ancient, it no longer played a pretty song
Some of it had splintered, its chimes were abrasive and long
But there was a connection between that timepiece and me.
Maybe because it had come from my favorite Grandma McGee.
That night I sat up in bed, wondering if a ghost was about the house.
That clock was playing like it was haunted by moose and mouse.
My hair frizzled with fright, for I had not had this experience before.
I broke off three teeth grinding them; I locked my bedroom door.
Could not get to sleep the rest of the night; this was a fright, it was a fright.
Next day, I tried to give the clock away at the first sign of daylight.
Who would want it? Asked my daughter, it's scary as a gargoyle on speed.
I can deliver it to your house, however, if you have a desire or need.
What was that huge thing leaping over the gate?
My eyes did not lie; it was a gargoyle named Nate.
I had not seen him since my birthday when I was eight.
I asked where he had been, and he showed me a skate.
I have been winning contests around the world now.
The spectators are amazed, and all say, “oh wow!”
I skate with only one skate in Sweden and Glasgow.
I asked him if he still tormented my grandpa’s cow.
Bessie is dead, but there are others I bother.
Last Wednesday I annoyed dreams of your father.
He was always a jokester, my gargoyle named Nate.
I was glad that he had stopped by my garden gate.
Gargoyle Dog with his sharp angry claws
Hooded Skeleton sat on a throne of skele-raws.
They had borrowed Grim Reaper’s murdering scythe.
The better to kill trick-or-treaters and others with.
Ebony raven flew past, terrified of this seasonal pair.
Skeleton thrones made of HS’s brothers put evil in the air.
His leering toothy grin encouraged a pronounced sense of horror.
Graveyard was ominous tonight; a vampire would adore her.
Hooded Skeleton sprouts heavy dark devil’s wings; terrible ghoul.
Waiting in the dark for an unsuspecting, optimistic young fool.
An idiot who will think it’s fun to tease the undead on Halloween night.
If he has a thimble of sense he will quickly take a look and die of fright.
Can I scare one if it walks by? Gargoyle Dog asks hopefully.
Hell no, Hooded Skeleton replies. What are you – dope-fully?
If one comes by, I’ll murder them slowly, take all the blame.
Gargoyle Dog began sharpening his claws in case no one else came.
Tuesday started out amazing; everything was going well.
I did not trip over the dog and the toilet flushed.
So better than Monday’s fiasco.
I got online and saw two classmates sleeping.
One of their noses was right next to the video, snoring.
At first I thought it was the crack of their petootsie beddootsie.
I was disappointed when I saw it was just his nose.
The teacher tried hard to get them to wake up
Or turn off their cameras.
I was gloating about it, being on time for once and awake.
A giant shadow overhead grabbed my attention.
She was a flaming pterodactyl, and she snatched up my science homework.
I was so angry! I chased her all over the house and down the street.
She flew high, and disappeared.
I ran back to class and said “You saw that right?”
They had missed it.
It seems like the gargoyle who was with her
Shut off my video the second she swooped down.
I knew then it might be the same kind of day
as Monday. Only worse, as this was an open book test
And I had no desire to do it over.
I took my zero.
And Then a Flaming Pterodactyl Ate My Homework
Written 2-3-2021
Contest: John Lawless
Where can we go to find the creepiest scariest dungeon? She asked.
I had to get out my travel books and research; it was quite a task.
We finally agreed to go to London to see an evil looking gargoyle.
He will twist your stomach into knots and make your blue blood boil.
My friend was almost too frightened, but at the last minute went.
We boarded a plane after every bit of my savings was spent.
The gargoyle was frightening, but the dungeon was even worse.
When we got inside an aggressive poltergeist ran away with my purse.
We had to call my parents collect and ask them for some money.
Sorry, my dad said, but I have to use tough love on you honey.
So here we are, standing in the worst dungeon in London town.
Hello kind stranger. Do you have a nice place to lay down?
The Bride and the Gambler
On the cool forest floor,
she flows,
like the fog rolling, away.
and guardian beasts held in stoic capture.
As the cold Night it steals a Gamblers Stare.
It leaves well enough alone,
folds it's hands and pushes clear
Of Her Altar Room of Thrones,
wolves gnawing at the bones,
of those who came before.
The unknown and the unsonged-
Found wantings guess ed wrong.
Found wanting, to see the balance
hung in the balance, of the pendulums sway
And thus be, Undone.
By the Bride Of.
The Bride of the taken away.
A Willow Wisp of snares.
She has come to take a share.
Of the raging blow.
The wrath of those alone.
Protagonist of
God only knows.
Like a toll of shattered winds redrawn, and quartered for those who dare breath upon,
the daylights Judas kiss
blown from Kingdom Come.
blood and mortar of the cliffs of no return
and in sarcophagus song.
Her encrypted dreamtime fares admit one,
the iron maiden to bath a whistling tune, in
from fork of silver tongue.
God only knows
Where what was once is done
Another life wasted upon
A Gargoyle Queen of hearted stone.
Another Life Wasted and I am freely
Undone.
A Gargoyle- Queen of Hearted Stone.
Another life to be wasted here.
and recircled upon.
God only knows.
inside me cranium
toady, an amphibious December 19th
twenty twenty one sinisterly drum
intonating forty five orbitz one bum
graduated as hard school of knocks alum.
Fiendish and gruesome phantasmagoric denizens
dwell deep inside subterranean vault
perform an evil dance
haunt psychic landscape
with imaginary (yet realistic)
gargoyle visitations cast macabre trance
nocturnal unconscious invaders
cavort and gallivant
disturb quiescent sleep
with devilish and sinister prance.
Apparitions crept stealthily
into peaceful slumber receptacle
repository whence illusory
landscape of dreams
take place to rejuvenate
exhausted body, mind and spirit triage
rent asunder blissful sleep with
a startled fright
cold sweat drenched
nighttime garments and bedding
teeth chattered uncontrollably
heart pounded loudly inside chest
nightmarish phantoms wrought
an awful ghoulish sight.
Mushroom cloud anniversary triggered
frenzied gargantuan hallucination
seventy six plus years ago today inauguration
into atomic age took place
one country after another sought
to acquire demonic and destruction devices
maintain self-preservation in
surreal atomic weapons race
impossible to escape the dark threat
looms and threatens life on Earth
one launched missile spells extermination
9.
across entire global space.
No escape from humankind military machines
munitions march mean madness
and guaranteed demise to all life
*****Sapiens violent history of bias,
intolerance and/or prejudice
characterizes vicious warfare
and chronic species strife
unaffordable legacy for future
(and perhaps alien) archeologists,
who will sift thru civilization debris
with delicate knife.
Artifacts buried in a heap
of pulverized and radioactive ash
civilization monuments
and hedonistic symbols
gone in a blinding brilliant flash
irksome flotsam and jetsam
spewed into outer space
alien nations light years distant
collect miniscule bits and pieces
offer object lesson as extinction for beings
that become excessively brash.
Some poems are pretty, daring and fun.
Some are jazzy and gutsy, made on the run.
Some poems are dark, gothic, and cruel.
Some are about delicacies that make me drool.
I intend to read one, two at the most.
But they snap me up, showing me their host.
I fall in love with so many each day,
I soon get completely carried away.
Just one more, I assure my impatient self.
But the next one includes orc, blarf, and elf.
Gargoyle magic gives me the eye from the next one.
These fantastic authors are creating lots of fun!
I devour and read my daylight hours away.
Some poems prance in my head all night long.
Some wake me up, and laugh as they say
Let’s get up and write some, no matter how wrong.
At my yearly review, she hands me a recap of my performance.
After a year of working weekends
overtime on short notice-
going the x-tra yard
taking on x-tra projects
dodging H.R (for the most part).
I would be getting .73 cents an hour raise.
My face must've turned gargoyle
because the newbie supervisor
lowered her eyes and apologized.
Nervously adding that she had no hand in determining raises.
Her pimply head nodding toward the ceiling....
Implying the flaccid raise was concocted by the ones upstairs...
Where underworked blonde birds and plump business casual lived.
23 years of work .73 cents an hour raise...
The vending machine on the first floor has candy bars for a buck twenty-five.
I think I'll go celebrate
yeeha.