overlook hotel these old rooms have such stories to tell daddys home
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
He thrusts his fist against his mouth
to keep the screams from spilling out,
Wading through the choking stink
he shivers and shakes on madnesses brink,
Clutching hands grip spade and pick
as the last wisps of sanity slip,
STOP STOP STOP
The voices scream into one ear
GO GO GO
Speaks the others a little more clear
My darling babe
Is all he can say
It’s him I need
Is all he can plead
Meek and mild,
He weeps for his child
Through the bleary hurt
The man begins his Grave Work
Sometimes I have a Stephen King mind,
always searching for a good tale to weave,
filled with macabre and mysterious thought,
clearing my cobwebs of all the fraught.
Sometimes I have a Stephen King mind,
reading his novels in a well-lit room,
as my fingers of perspiration turn each page,
as he surprises me with his creative rage.
Sometimes I have a Stephen King Mind,
waiting for the antagonist to jump out,
scaring me until all ten toes curl,
making my body feel as if in a swirl.
Sometimes I have a Stephen King mind,
wanting to visit him in Bangor Maine,
passing his blood-red Victorian mansion,
an ostentatious nineteenth century expansion.
Sometimes I have a Stephen King mind,
and wonder what he is really all about,
his genre of horror fiction is quite scary,
recalling his first novel about telepathic Carrie.
I'm the caretaker of a lonely lighthouse
On the edge of a small New England town
Not much here has ever happened
That is until Stephen came around
For weeks now I've been haunted
By the ghost of Stephen King
I'm quite sure that he is still alive
Which makes this very strange indeed
At first he wasn't doing much
Rattled chains, walked through walls like a normal ghost
Then Stephen discovered the roaming light
That I shine up and down the coast
Now his favorite pastime every night
Until the break of dawn
Is to make shadow puppets in the light
I don't have the nerve to tell his ghost it's wrong
Yes, Stephen loves his shadow puppets
On the jagged rocks below displayed
Butterflies and puppy dogs
Is Stephen's ghost's forte
But all the puppy dogs have monster heads
And the butterflies giant bat wings
I guess you just can't help yourself
When your the ghost of Stephen King
This light house is no longer lonely
Since Stephen Kings ghost did arrive
I'm still not sure how he does it
Since Stephen King is still alive
I'm the caretaker of a lonely lighthouse
On the edge of a small New England town
Not much here has ever happened
That is until Stephen came around
For weeks now I've been haunted
By the ghost of Stephen King
I'm quite sure that he is still alive
Which makes this very strange indeed
At first he wasn't doing much
Rattled chains, walked through walls like a normal ghost
Then Stephen discovered the roaming light
That I shine up and down the coast
Now his favorite pastime every night
Until the break of dawn
Is to make shadow puppets in the light
I don't have the nerve to tell his ghost it's wrong
Yes, Stephen loves his shadow puppets
On the jagged rocks below displayed
Butterflies and puppy dogs
Is Stephen's ghost's forte
But all the puppy dogs have monster heads
And the butterflies giant bat wings
I guess you just can't help yourself
When your the ghost of Stephen King
This light house is no longer lonely
Since Stephen Kings ghost did arrive
I'm still not sure how he does it
Since Stephen King is still alive
Author Stephen King,
Writes stories that are shocking.
Horror is his claim to fame.
His books make nightmares fair game.
2013
Have you seen the words of Stephen King?
Which reap from hell unspeakable things?
Horrors worse than death border your brain
And rob the mind of much needed sane.
Stephen King is an author of some fame.
Everyone that's read a book knows his name.
His books are intended to scare us through and through
But it's nice to know he sleeps with the lights on too.
you scared me so bad
all the evil things you write
the end was not seen
Pen to page at seven.
Such a tender young age.
Frightens us with dark words.
Brings our nightmares to life.
Leaves shivers of delight!
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