Long Haunted Poems
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The first time a belt struck my bottom, I became haunted. Dad raised his voice. The ghost covered her bottom and pressed her back against my bedroom wall. Fear clung to my back. Dad didn't break in with a raised belt. By nine, I was too close to puberty with a sense of identity outside my parents. I could learn to speak up. Dad's threat of a spanking remained while my parents were married. The ghost persisted after I severed Dad's belt from me.
My parents divorced the same year Grandpa grew quiet. The memory of Dad's violence echoed under Grandpa's wheezes. Grandpa moved in when Dad was shoved out. I cut up Dad's belts. Mom abandoned Dad's junk on the curbside. The garbage collectors didn't get to trash Dad's stuff on Thursday morning. Grandpa was a welcome change in the former office. Mom and I didn't have to tiptoe past the door.
I was tasked with staying nearby in case Grandpa needed something. Mom told me to ignore his mumblings and to call her if he starts screaming. Grandpa's foster parents weren't nice. He had to be thankful for being fed, and their belt was his closest sibling. He remembered them the closer he got to death. He was peaceful when I was there. I like to believe it was because I was his favorite grandchild. But I couldn't ignore the ghost beside him. My ghost acknowledged him. He didn't do the same. The ghosts' dynamic refused to change. Grandpa and his ghost died. Our shared truth haunts me.
A Pitch black scratched night full of grays, alone in a hut
Far away from the sun. A night of pure terror surrounded by
Whispering voices and all l could notice a pair of dizziness smoke
With opposite meanings.
Fiery shivering sweating like l am standing
In the middle of a thunderstorm rainfall holding a piece of a very dried wood.
Gust increased my fear, the action begins. An empty house nowhere to hide
Haunted house, scary movements scarecrow in the backyard
Sounds of opening graves Ghosts and brooms flying which evil witches
Ride when looking for fresh bloody like mine.
L saw bloody pallid long hands trying to reach me, even a voice to scream none
L could produce a mirror of a broken piano, a single press collapse to no existence.
Big eyes of red, big two ivory like horns Ghost’s goblin devil easy description.
At almost being touched fainted collapsed l don’t know Enchanting and scary scene
a full bag make me brag and long for next Halloween.
The table is set for one, or maybe two,But the largest chair is empty, Mom, and so are you—My siblings, who shared the same breath and bone,Have left me to navigate this house alone.The phone does not ring with their familiar names,The loss has changed us, playing cruel games.I am reaching out into a silent room,Grieving you, Mom, and our severed bloom.
First went the foundation, the roof, the light,When you left us that quiet winter night.But the walls crumbled too, in the days that followed,By indifference and silence, my heart is swallowed.They are strangers now, wrapped in their own pain,Leaving me standing alone in the rain.It’s not just you I miss, in this broken view,But the siblings I lost, when I lost you.
Mom passed away,And the world turned gray.You were my brother/sister,Now I barely know you.Silent texts,Empty streets,A family torn,Where silence repeats.I am holding the memories,While you hold your breath,Leaving me alone,In the shadow of death.
The limb has fallen from my family tree". the phone as a silent weight, or calling and having no one pick up. grief, where everyone takes their share and disappears.
The family home feels haunted not just by mom, but by the siblings who are physically alive but emotionally gone.
Scary Mary
Scary Mary walks the streets she wanders through the park
She haunts the lanes and alleyways especially when it`s dark.
She roams the primary school corridors by night and by day
She follows all the children she whispers come and play.
You’ll feel her cold breath on your neck her heart is filled with rage.
She`s reading every word with you as you turn the page.
Don’t go in the school toilets especially on your own
As the door creeks shuts behind you and Mary starts to moan,
She`ll chase you to your classroom although you’ve only heard her cry
And the teachers won’t believe you however hard you try.
You`ll only see her if she wants to, in her black cloak and black hood
Appearing in the distance as your walking in the wood.
As she makes her way towards you, she looks feeble and so old
And then she lifts her hood up, and she makes your blood run cold.
If you go out playing and you take a shortcut home
don’t go down unlit alleys where Mary`s sure to roam.
She`ll sometimes cast a shadow you`ll sometimes hear her cry
And then you`ll hear her foot steps as if she`s walking by.
But don’t turn around to see her or listen to her cry
And if she lifts her veil up don’t look into her eye.
For Mary had no children she once lived all alone
And now she looks for boys or girls to call her very own.
Her house is old the rooms are dark the walls and floors are bare
She has a secret room for you it`s hidden up the stair.
So run home fast and don’t look back and don’t let Mary catch you
Or she`ll take you to her haunted house and that`s where she will keep you.
THE END`
He had a pleasant face,
Quite handsome in a lived-in kind of way
His features were irregular, not perfect
And his expression was kind
He was a solidly-built man
Muscular and strong
He had a thick neck and broad shoulders
His hands were large and capable
He had a good physique
Well-rounded, without angles
There was nothing pointed or sharp about him
He was not an intellectual
Any talent he possessed
Came from using those capable hands
He was surprisingly gentle for such a big man
Sentimental, easily touched
Too easily, sometimes
He often had tears in his eyes
He enjoyed messing about on boats
He seemed content to be alone
Not craving company
He had a certain shyness
A vulnerability that was hidden
Within a massive frame
He had a vicious temper which
He tried hard to conceal
He lost it often without provocation
He flew into uncontrollable rages
That made his huge body shake and tremble
And his facial features contort
His whole persona became menacing
His haunted eyes looked frightened
As they tried to focus inward
Away from his personal torment
In a desperate struggle to get back once again
Behind the mask
The Dark Side of Emotion
(Love never touched its lips, though it longed for destiny!)
You are gone, a forgotten episode left for me to see,
And still, I wake each day haunted by the chimes
Of your footsteps, echoing through time.
The air was heavy, fraught with doom, the day you left,
The clouds, once sleeping, turned to storms in the south.
At the thought of you,
The bones inside me freeze in an instant,
Never foreseeing such fierce turn in my life.
I lost myself, a wanderer like a parched bird,
Searching endlessly for your elusive presence.
Each moment passed now counts in your departure,
Every step you took ahead was a pain in my heart.
You left, not a glance behind,
And merchants ploughed your chest with their lust,
They robbed you and pierced the dreams you once held.
A long, winding path crossed the jungle
where you once walked,
And vanished from my sight forevermore.
You left no wealth, only a heart scarred and torn,
A heart wounded by the trident of time.
Thousands of precious days fell from the sphere,
Hours dropped like petals from the roses to the dust.
Everything passed so quickly, darkness after light,
Dreams linger still, untouched, unwrapped.
The new moon cast aside the sun’s rays from your brow,
A cruelty pierced your chest, your violet lips frozen,
Time has not forgiven you, a fragile flower with no bloom.
Every path leads to an end, and I am your final shore,
Still restless, waiting for a fortune now extinct.
Beneath the moon’s haunting silver sheen,
Where whispers of cold night winds convene.
In dreams’ labyrinth, we’ll intertwine,
Amid shadows cast by the pale moon’s sign.
Across the veil, our spirits entwine,
In a macabre dance, your heart in mine.
In a spider’s loom, our destiny spun,
In cobwebbed bonds, our souls are one.
So fear not, my love, for I am near,
In every sigh, in every tear.
In the darkest depths of Gothic night,
I am your phantom, your guiding light.
Beneath the ivy, where passions lie,
In cryptic vows that never die.
Haunted chambers of ancient lore,
Our love endures, forevermore.
Where tombstones mark our resting place,
Locked in love’s eternal embrace.
-Edward
At the SIS fortress,
where the Thames mirrors silence,
they placed a photograph before me.
“We know his history,” they said,
“but tell us what lies beneath his skin.”
I studied his face—
rebellion carved in the jaw,
yet the stars betrayed him:
a Cancer Moon, a Cancer rising.
“Family is his chain,” I replied,
“pull that thread,
and the man will unravel.”
The chamber walls glared with portraits—
statesmen, kings,
criminals polished as diplomats.
Here, souls were stripped bare,
their desires charted like maps of war.
Every smile a mask,
every silence,
an unspoken crime.
And yet, each time I walked these halls,
a question haunted me:
When Elizabeth opened this house of secrets in 1994,
what prophecy stirred her mind?
Did she see guardians of the realm,
or merchants of deception?
Protectors,
or puppeteers?
The Thames whispers no answers.
It carries only reflections—
of men who gamble with empires,
who write destinies in shadows,
where truth is a currency,
and ghosts
are never at rest.
Life's valued treasures, I hold most dear,
the ones that dwell deep within my heart.
There's a special memory from younger days
that I will share with you, and fondly impart.
When I think as far back as I can, I remember,
there was only one special thing I ever wanted ~
A big white horse, with flowing mane and tail.
I rode him every night; in dreams, he haunted.
Christmas wishes never came true for me
because you see, my family was rather poor,
but on a December morning, when I was ten
there was a loud knock upon our door.
Dad looked at me and said, "I think it's for you."
He took my hand and gently guided me outside.
Before I saw the surprise, I heard a gentle neigh,
and stood in disbelief, my eyes opened wide.
I remember that I cried, but I couldn't speak.
When Dad lifted me to the leather saddle
I whispered "Thank you," and kissed his cheek.
I was sitting on my dream horse, legs astraddle.
No fancy dolls or dress up things appealed to me.
I had what my heart desired and named him Knight.
I told him all my secrets as we rode hills and fields,
mane and tail flowing, coat shining in the sunlight.
August 5th, 2020
Sponsor: Constance La France
Dusty Old Memories Poetry Contest
A young man named Jonas stood at the doors
Of the house that had haunted his dreams
As behind the ornate, hand-carved oak
Its interior was not all it seemed
People entered the doors, then disappeared
It was the last of them anyone would see
So Jonas had made it his mission in life
To put an end to its mystery
Jonas passed through the doors and as he did
The doors locked – he had no way out
He took a deep breath, to calm his nerves
Then he started to look about
He was standing in a square hallway
With a map of the house at one end
A door stood each side, marked ‘IN’ and ‘OUT’
Written above ‘IN’ was a legend
‘Beware all mortals who enter this place
Solve Metis’s riddles or fear you will face’
He wondered what the legend meant
Faltering on going through the door
And what had happened to all the souls
Who had walked through this portal before?
Jonas opened the door, and entered a room
The door then vanished from view
As there was no obvious other way out,
He stopped to think for a moment or too
As he thought, he took in his surroundings
The room was panelled in wood as before
With a large chandelier, providing the light
That shone on a plinth, in the centre of the floor
Seated on the plinth was a creature
That filled Jonas’s bones with dread
Half man, half beast with a bullish face
And which, though seated, towered over his head
With wizened finger, it beckoned to Jonas
And with powerful voice began to speak
“Who dares enter Metis’s House of Fear
And what is it that you seek?”