Short Ghoul Poems
Short Ghoul Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ghoul by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ghoul by length and keyword.
Pumpkin party was in full swing
the ghosts and ghouls began to sing
they sang off key
it tickled me
as I danced ‘round the witches’ ring.
breek n brare
along a carpeted hall
bax n goolin oft is a ghoul
betrackeding down a creakeding stair
trumble n frumble n deatheding fall
I am a sorrowful ghoul,
With a tear in my eye that refuses to fall,
A hollow stomach thirsting for life,
But a soulless body, full and satisfied...
There once was a timid young mummy
His attire incredibly crummy
He draped a dinner jacket
across his golden casket
Now the pretty ghouls are more chummy
There was a teen ghoul named McDimple
Who thought scaring kids would be simple
He'd moan and he'd groan
Just like he was shown
But the children just stared at his pimple.
Gangrenous decay
Hideous creeping movements
Odour of rotting flesh
Ulcerated weeping sores
Longing for meat from the grave
Jack Horne for Russell's Challenge contest, 8th October
steering blatant revelries, ghouls engaged to death
chomping down streetlight openings in bitter stone
bow walled yew tree drifters, steps of many feet in
shallow parade to pew, the kneel cushion's betrayal
- how the shadowless crave… and the headless sing
On Halloween a ghoul
Grab me from behind
Dragging me to the graveyard
Behind an old church as
I kicked and shouted
Two men suddenly appeared
And attacked it, while I
Ran for my life but when
I stopped and looked back
The men had strangely disappeared
Long icicles fall, splinter
On the grey cobblestones,
And silver shrouds of winter
Shield the frozen bones,
Frozen, flesh-full bones.
And ice-gnomes squirm and scurry
Over mossy tombs,
They’re hungry and they scurry
To the feasting rooms,
Marble feasting rooms.
I'm vain.
I thought myself as great but then,
What of all the disdain?
They are saying different truths than what I believe to be true,
What does that mean?
Your truth burn away my flesh, burn up my soul.
Nobody matters to me anymore
Forgive me, I've become a heartless ghoul.
10/28/20
When vampires fly abroad in search of blood
And poltergeists and demons do no good;
When zombies drooling, crawl up from the ground
And ghoulish spirits glide without a sound;
When bats and spiders brush across your face
And coffins spill out bodies all in lace;
A chill crawls up your spine, your hair turns green.
You know the time has come for Hallowe'en.
Peering beyond the ghostly veil
I looked within
Only to find the sleeping Self
Who cast a bleary eye
Taking, but not drinking in, a
Glimpse of the new me.
We stood transfixed (if only for a moment);
I remembered, in that instant, how I used to sing.
A half-awakened self offers no consolation;
We leave ourselves alone to sleep
Content that when the sun rises we’ll still exist.
Poor little Gary Ghoul was flunking class
He was just too nice; he couldn't be crass
He would try to scream 'boo'
But could only say 'mew'
Teacher asked: "Want to learn how to pass gas?"
October 13, 2020
Syllables: 10 - 10 - 6 - 6 - 10
Checked on Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
Halloween Inspired Limerick Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
The drooly ghouly ghoul looked frightening.
Some felt he was worse than cow pie lightning.
I had met him as a tiny little scrapper,
When he had politely asked to use our crapper.
So even though he scared the orange juice out of others,
He left me completely alone, also my grandmothers.
Luckily for me, neither of these old gals could see well.
So they did not know he was from the bowels of hell.
Fury of cage,
Forbade him from rage.
For he knew he was in pain,
Which gave him joy from the sorrowest gains.
Deemed to be horrid,
Demise from torrid.
He was slandered,
For the world’s a foul stage.
Scowled, dreaded, hated,
For the lack of unamounted goal.
Jokes, what happens to you’re bowl,
When you chose to find beauty in horrid ghouls.
All you’ll taste is, are the fouls you’ve committed.
Never let Death hold your hand,
My mother used to say.
He'll promise you time's sands
While slipping lethargy into your veins.
His nails will seem of luminous silver,
His teeth of polished jewels.
But when observed without night's cover,
They'll reveal themselves blanch as ghouls.
So should he ever fill your eye,
Or reside beneath your ear,
Best you heed him no free mind
While praying to nether he disappear.
generous Gus, Greystone’s glaringly green goblin glided into the glades.
giving Ginny Graceful, a gruesome ghoul a glimpse of glorious shades.
gary, Gryffindor’s ghost glared at them; for where was his grubby gratuity?
goblin and ghost, goaded Gary, giving him grief about Glue city.
grandiose grisly girl-free graphic arts gleefully featured the grimy three.
Gladly giving grotesque features in the glade’s next grimy graphic glossy.
Betty Boop could not live forever, for naught
But this new version was a bit scary I thought
Her face was green, she had stitches too
I am a ghoul, she informed me, a bit of a boo
Never having met a ghoul before,
I turned and ran outside, straight out the door
She chased me up a hill and back two times
She smelled like lemons, mold, dirt and grimes
I did not stop running until I woke up with a gasp
Relieved that my time with Betty Boop Ghoul was past.
In the middle of the night
The woman in crimson came to fright
Her hair as black as a moonless night
Her eyes glistened with a milky glaze
She whispered my name
But to no avail
For I pulled the covers over my head
Lest my heart stop dead
She pulled the covers off my bed
I screamed bloody murder filled w/dread
My mom came rushing in
The color in my face drained in fright
For the woman in crimson dress
Stole my light
Cursing me to fear the night.
graveyard ghoul was insanely weird to those who could see
Luckily, this only included my Aunt Amy and me
Others were not clairvoyant; they had no idea at all
this creepy ghoul was standing right next to that wall
his claws are creepy and his teeth are nasty said Aunt Amy Cup
I told her to shush, for I did not want to rile this creepy guy up
The graveyard ghoul gave me a nod but sneered in her direction.
I instinctively knew right away, this was not a sign of affection.
With a huge paper due at my school,
I had waited too late, like a fool.
For two days and all night
I sat typing; my plight -
went to bed feeling like a strange ghoul.
I awoke, numb from feet to my head;
Oh, my paper! I thought, with great dread. . .
It’s some kind of a jerk
who can’t turn in her work!
I could not even rise from my bed!
Inspired by Carolyn Devonshire's Limericks: "Fruitless All-Nighter"
For john Freeman's contest: "A Double Limerick Inspiration"