Long Ghoul Poems

Long Ghoul Poems. Below are the most popular long Ghoul by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ghoul poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Such Naughty Trickery

three wicked moons ago, we flew to a halloween get-away 
on the beach island frilled with dangling bouquets.” no
costumes , please”,  the invitation loudly read.. so off i went, 
the brood still washing their heads… in simple sundress, my eyes
kept singing la-la-la. the hall was empty, freaky lights went off. in a flick,

witches were brewing black, fangy cats... a lady gaga
spiking screams, then came a judas hanging on a centipede tree,
by the false door,  tattooed skeletons dancing squeaky reggae.
suffocating in a terrorized room, i hollered,” where’s my family!!”
what a viciously naughty night! they were all dressed in
ghostly ghoul and goblin witchery, tickling my almost bare body
just behind me… oh well, it’s october’s time  to slay the night
and i was the pawn, the surprised victim, crackling with nervous delight


( for paula swanson's halloween of years past)


Premium Member The Witch Next Door

A misconception is the tale
that witches wear such evil faces
That we should dread October's spell
or cloudy nights, and creepy spaces

A wart-nosed witch that rides a broom
is not the girl who lives next door
who hides away, some lonely room
She may be fair, she may be more 

Have you met a lonely ghoul
who names her spiders Mold and Slime?
Brewing potions, but is no fool
We'll pass her by most every time


Witches pass us by each day
They don't play games of hide and seek
Ghouls are clever and want to play
and normal friends they want to meet

The cauldron cleaned with spit and shine
will brew a drink that's rather bold
Prepared to hold a drink of wine
Beware that it will knock you cold!

She'll host a party, if you dare!
Sweep misconceptions out the door
You'll have a blast if you're prepared
The witch is just a neighbor right next door!



_________________________________________
For Alfred's Contest: Witchcraft 8/23/14
Form: Rhyme

My past, my present, my future - my always

You are the beat of my heart
The thrum in my bones
The light in my soul

You make me feel my best,
And my worst
- The puppeteer at the end of my strings.

You are always so out of reach
One step ahead

A ghost
A ghoul
A dream

You are no more than a cloud in a breeze
A leaf getting swept downstream
- The end of a rainbow.

You live in my heart
And haunt my dreams
You hide in my memories

I am always longing for your touch
To feel your hand in mine
lips against mine

I hope that someday 

I will be the beat of your heart 
The thrum in your bones
The light in your soul

I hope that someday

I will be your always

Premium Member When Doves Cry

Our heart bled tears, confirming our worst fears,
that estranged from our lover, our soul died.
As the coffin dropped, we felt leers and jeers
of both friend and foe, of true love denied.

As was the custom, we bore a fake smile,
acknowledging kind words to us proffered
but all we felt was, bitter taste of bile,
finding no solace, in limp hands offered.

As a soulless ghoul, we wander the earth,
although to the bigots we seem alive
but now we’re bereft of love, light and mirth,
hoping that one day, heart’s joy may revive.

Be it rain or shine, always standing tall ~
We are expected to smile as we fall
Form: Sonnet

A History of Ghosts

For generations raps, taps and table turnings were
the signs of a spirit calling; the ghoul of you trying to 
deliver a message - to finish unfinished business and 
sleep an everlasting slumber in the clouds above. 
The presence of a loved one floated in white light, 
apparitions waving at the end of a tunnel bright. Icy mists 
hovered around graveyards, phantoms clawing and cawing at 
sanctified earth. Spectres clinked chains with warnings dire.
Clocks stopped. Widows wore black. Families, trapped in the 
amber of grief, took portraits with their beloved deceased.
A memento of the living.

Now, you just ghost me on Tinder.


Premium Member When Nursery Rhymes Attack

A Compendium

Whoops a daisy, Auntie Maisie’s lying on the floor
She just put on my roller skates she won’t do that no more
No one knew that she was there until we heard her squeals
What a shame her Zimmer frame won’t work with feet on wheels

                   ****

Tiddles got his claws under the fish tank’s metal lid
He fished around and that became the last thing that he did
Blood was flying everywhere and that was quite a drama
Some landed on a picture book called ‘How To Keep Piranha’

                   ****

The ghostly ghoul went through the wall, and not the open door
In his hands he held the hat he used to wear before
Timmy’s bones were shaking as he stared up from his bed
The ghost approached his bed and said, have you seen my head

                   ****

Timmy sat there in his push chair counting building bricks
He was very clever and he’d got to twenty six
He told his mum to wait because he had to count them all
His mum said that will take too long, ’cause that’s the Albert Hall

                   ****

The alien had practiced on his ten year trip through space
And soon he would communicate with the human race
He felt smug that he’d learned the language as he travelled far
Until a two foot human being said, goo goo gaa gaa

The alien was upset and he got back in his craft
He came here feeling clever but now he just felt daft
He took off and he sped away to planet Zandoss Nine
And Mark the midget told his mate, that gets em every time

                    ***

Teacher saw the cows and said you mustn't run or shout
Timmy saw his lace undone and bent to sort it out
He didn’t run, nor did he shout, nor did he bring a Mac
Which might have helped when he received a big pat on the back
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Macbeth Low On Meth

And signifying nothing, upon life’s stage 
    meaningless, endless, a cruel war he waged 
  Fretting and strutting, as the curtains narrowed 
Out, out, foul vegan, who doth hate man’s marrow 

Comes back for encore, to be mocked, and broken 
  Having found mere hate, vaunting the unspoken
    A shadowless ghoul behind faint shrills of woe
      Sans a candle, roams hell’s abattoirs below 

               A dedication of respect on the 
                nihilistic tragedy of Macbeth 
                        #         #         #
                   Bastardised here indeed
                   but more so each day by 
          a bard who flunked all meaning in life
                        #         #         #
                Yet has somehow found faith 
                 in putrid flesh eating flowers 
                              #         #
            No doubt whilst searching for a niche
            on the last syllable of soybean @urd

By 
David Kavanagh
Form: Rhyme

The Lore of Hastar

'Sleep my dear, else Hastar will come for you',
Cried the teary eyed lad, of barely ten and two,
His visage flushed in blood, as he sought refuge,
To save his flesh from his ancestors turned ghoul.

Slinging his never-ending purse of fine gold,
He creeps the labyrinth of his mother’s womb,
Baying in anguish for a tiny morsel of food,
A curse that has brought him eons of gloom.

Not to be worshipped, the first-born demon-god,
Banished from their midst by well-meaning kin of lords,
Found an eager devotee in an ancient family odd,
Who were greedy for gold and lusted for bawds.

They brought him back to life with their orison,
Defying the Gods through layers of generations,
Inviting their rage which became their poison,
Reducing them to repulsive abominations.

Descending into the bowels of the derelict temple,
Through the dilapidated shaft of a solitary well,
Hiding dollops of soft flour in their vessel,
To awaken the hungry monster from his spell.

While he lusted for grain and they for his coins,
At every meeting of this unsavory alliance,
The demon got his food and they, his treasure,
Until they fell prey to the bite of Hastar.

It turned them into hideous living corpses,
Their only mortal escape, through death or slumber,
Consigned to the flames at the hands of their own,
Prior to which, the strain of greed they passed on.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Haunting Nights

Streets awash with mewling cats
and surly swashbuckling pirates.
Somber skies with swirling bats,
and ghastly goblins chasing rats.

Wicked witches’ evil glare,
grisly ghouls' ghostly stare,
taunting with a double-dare.
All in fun to give a scare.

Haunted houses with darkened walls;
afraid to walk spell-bound halls.
Toffee apples, popcorn balls;
eating brains and toad eyeballs.

Trick-or-treating door-to-door.
Treats too tasty to ignore.
Harmless tricks more smile than roar, 
kept us giggling for much more.

Parents, neighbors joined the fun.
Scary ghost stories spookily spun.
Fortune tellers’ crystal balls to shun.
Homemade costumes unique to one.

Creamy fudge and devil’s food cake,
all wrapped up for us to take.
Mom's scratch treats, nothing fake.
She took all day long to bake.

Bewitching hour over, fun now done,
to our homes we’d quickly run.
Goodie bags that weighed a ton.
We would share with everyone.

Playing games and laughing out loud,
good times again next year we vowed!
Form: Rhyme

Tinge Terrific

Tinge, thy colors terrific.
Weather wave, point where?
Heaven and Hell, this may stick!
Brick upon the bare.

Red the rampant real? Rind? Rhyme.
Tornados in time.
Wind above the city, chime.
Tequila, thy lime.

Yak upon the mountain;
Which way doth trouble lurk?
Rubbish, fill the garbage bin!
If you work, you shirk!

Psyche, soul tormented;
This place sure stinks of doom!
Lyre of love lamented!
O curse on pharaoh's tomb...

Bloom upon the tamarind?
Reality grinned.
Sin, thy light the whole world pinned!
Challengers a-chinned...

Roll that boulder, vagrant king!
Silver is thy sting!
Drenched upon but undying!
Rail about the ring!

Levels sinking in the pool?
Silent lies the spool.
O young people, keep it cool?
Flayed dismayed, fair fool...

Ghoul, thy magic terrible;
Golem, shall we ride?
Room within the brazen bull?
Bailiff, how you tried...
Form: Rhyme

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