Poetry competition CLOSED 7th November 2011 3:06am
WINNER
JackyIdkk (J. Payan)
JackyIdkk (J. Payan)
RUNNERS-UP:
rayheinrich
and ravenmoon
Creepy Halloween Competition 2011
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
Write a creepy Halloween poem! It can be any length, but please, only one submission per entrant!
I will pick a winner/runner up on November 6th! 
There's a licanthrobe on the bus
i'm sitting on the bus to hell, and i'm not feeling very well
and there's one or two places i know i'd rather be
i'm naked to the seat wrapped up in a blood stained sheet
and there's some kind of naked lunatic next to me
well that's when i see the ''wolf-man'', appearing at the top of the stairs
fiddling around with a ticket machine, and asking if there's any more fares
but shrouds don't have any pockets for money, and i don't know what to do
because he doesn't look like the sort who's going to get caught, accepting an I.O.U
there's a licanthrobe on the bus
and he's heading for us
big teeth and covered in hair
and he's coming to collect my fare
and i hope that i don't have to pay in blood
there's a man sitting on the back seat, making a fuss
he say's ''there's been some mistake, and i could be on the wrong bus''
but why did god forsake him, and leave him in the lurch?
because he's a sexist,homophobe, who went to the wrong fucking church
and as the bus flies through the night
i try to remember how i died
and i'm not yet completely in control
and the bus conductor says
''we don't want your money''
yes you've guessed it
this bastard wants my soul
as we reached ther gates of hell, things don't look so bad
they're playing loud music, i can see Jane Mansfield dancing with my dad
they're all drinking beer and getting it down, things are working out quite well
because everybody's got their own idea of heaven and hell!
i'm sitting on the bus to hell, and i'm not feeling very well
and there's one or two places i know i'd rather be
i'm naked to the seat wrapped up in a blood stained sheet
and there's some kind of naked lunatic next to me
well that's when i see the ''wolf-man'', appearing at the top of the stairs
fiddling around with a ticket machine, and asking if there's any more fares
but shrouds don't have any pockets for money, and i don't know what to do
because he doesn't look like the sort who's going to get caught, accepting an I.O.U
there's a licanthrobe on the bus
and he's heading for us
big teeth and covered in hair
and he's coming to collect my fare
and i hope that i don't have to pay in blood
there's a man sitting on the back seat, making a fuss
he say's ''there's been some mistake, and i could be on the wrong bus''
but why did god forsake him, and leave him in the lurch?
because he's a sexist,homophobe, who went to the wrong fucking church
and as the bus flies through the night
i try to remember how i died
and i'm not yet completely in control
and the bus conductor says
''we don't want your money''
yes you've guessed it
this bastard wants my soul
as we reached ther gates of hell, things don't look so bad
they're playing loud music, i can see Jane Mansfield dancing with my dad
they're all drinking beer and getting it down, things are working out quite well
because everybody's got their own idea of heaven and hell!
Everyone is out tonight
The ghouls the goblins
But tonight is different
There are creatures mixed with children
A little girl dressed as a fairy
Is stolen in the night
Then a demon snacks on
a little boy dressed as a knight
All the blood and the gore
never is seen by human eyes
The children go out for candy
And they never survive
The ghouls the goblins
But tonight is different
There are creatures mixed with children
A little girl dressed as a fairy
Is stolen in the night
Then a demon snacks on
a little boy dressed as a knight
All the blood and the gore
never is seen by human eyes
The children go out for candy
And they never survive
Anonymous
tainted black rose
trick or treat
usually rewarded with candy
or some type of delicious treat
not tonight
this night of Halloween
black roses turn red
dressed as The Raven
black rose in her hair blending with it
going out tonight
her last night as a kid
for today on Halloween
is also her birthday
no longer a child but a young woman of 18
leaving her house
seeing a friend she knows
calling to him
walking partially down the dark lonely street to meet him
seeing his face
seeing his intentions wwritten on his face
realizing it was a mistake
trying to run she falls
he grabs her by her raven hair
drags her down the street
where no one can hear her scream
defiled by someone she trusted
trick or treat
usually rewarded with candy
not tonight
this night on Halloween
trick or treat
usually rewarded with candy
or some type of delicious treat
not tonight
this night of Halloween
black roses turn red
dressed as The Raven
black rose in her hair blending with it
going out tonight
her last night as a kid
for today on Halloween
is also her birthday
no longer a child but a young woman of 18
leaving her house
seeing a friend she knows
calling to him
walking partially down the dark lonely street to meet him
seeing his face
seeing his intentions wwritten on his face
realizing it was a mistake
trying to run she falls
he grabs her by her raven hair
drags her down the street
where no one can hear her scream
defiled by someone she trusted
trick or treat
usually rewarded with candy
not tonight
this night on Halloween
Halloween dinner
The way his condemned eyes hold mine
The ghastly way he stares into me
standing too close
breathing graveyard and old dirt
filling my face with death
I cannot move
my body hair is bristling
and I cannot move
He is opens his mouth
damned creaking tomb lifting open
exposing shining dripping uneven
sharpened white teeth.. saliva.. blood?
his cold fingers paint my neck
fingernails scrape my skin
branding me for the undead
before he lowers himself to me
I wince soundlessly
fighting the black filling my eyes
the stars filling my head
I feel him getting closer
breath warming my neck
hands bracing me
he crunches into my carotid
smacking wet slurps of breaking vessels
feeling my blood trickle down my neck
my eyes fade to white, then black
lowered onto the snow
brushing in my warm, wet blood
I imagine
I paint quite the picture
The way his condemned eyes hold mine
The ghastly way he stares into me
standing too close
breathing graveyard and old dirt
filling my face with death
I cannot move
my body hair is bristling
and I cannot move
He is opens his mouth
damned creaking tomb lifting open
exposing shining dripping uneven
sharpened white teeth.. saliva.. blood?
his cold fingers paint my neck
fingernails scrape my skin
branding me for the undead
before he lowers himself to me
I wince soundlessly
fighting the black filling my eyes
the stars filling my head
I feel him getting closer
breath warming my neck
hands bracing me
he crunches into my carotid
smacking wet slurps of breaking vessels
feeling my blood trickle down my neck
my eyes fade to white, then black
lowered onto the snow
brushing in my warm, wet blood
I imagine
I paint quite the picture
Anonymous
Halloween Night
Now the day is over
howling of the wolves drawing in the night.
Ghosts of the night steal across the darkened sky.
A frighting night so spooky
so scared that my flesh crawled up next to my bones,
felt like shards of ice freezing my insides to stone.
Upon their brooms witches' stream,
crooked and black in the crescents gleem,
and away they swarm beneath dragons' feet
over the tainted sands of time.
On this frighting night so spooky
so scared that my flesh crawled up next to my bones
felt like shards of ice freezing my insides to stone.
Now the day is over
howling of the wolves drawing in the night.
Ghosts of the night steal across the darkened sky.
A frighting night so spooky
so scared that my flesh crawled up next to my bones,
felt like shards of ice freezing my insides to stone.
Upon their brooms witches' stream,
crooked and black in the crescents gleem,
and away they swarm beneath dragons' feet
over the tainted sands of time.
On this frighting night so spooky
so scared that my flesh crawled up next to my bones
felt like shards of ice freezing my insides to stone.
Doesn't anyone hear it? The soft cawing of the crows, growing louder?
Of course they don't, I'm all alone.
Next to me are my friends, they always listen.
Lying in the soft, dead and somewhat crunchy grass.
Kids pass by, one daring to enter my cemetary.
They don't, good choice.
"trick or treat!" rings out in the air.
I'm ready to leave now, just take me away.
This is the only night the spirits come alive, so won't they take me with them already?
I just wanna go home, home to hell.
Of course they don't, I'm all alone.
Next to me are my friends, they always listen.
Lying in the soft, dead and somewhat crunchy grass.
Kids pass by, one daring to enter my cemetary.
They don't, good choice.
"trick or treat!" rings out in the air.
I'm ready to leave now, just take me away.
This is the only night the spirits come alive, so won't they take me with them already?
I just wanna go home, home to hell.
-~{ The Puritan and The Maiden }~-
A Puritan of Salem town, a swordsman of high renown,
Went riding out of the gates, of the ancient stockade…
Oh fare ye well to town, said the swordsman of renown,
For I have been a militiaman, and I shall not be afraid!
And so he spurred his horse along a trail little traveled…
Through Indian country and beyond, in places so dark,
That any lesser man would feel all his nerves unraveled…
But steely was that Puritan’s resolve, and so on a lark,
He journeyed beyond lands called civilized by mankind,
Saying fare ye well to the place of his birth and family.
He was always a man so different in spirit and in mind,
Unafraid: of the things that oft haunted the wild country.
But oft a snow-white owl watched him on his journeys,
Seeming to mock him, when he did only as he pleased.
Whilst riding along an autumn trail covered with leaves,
From high oak trees: of fiery orange and yellow colors…
Seeking after the kind of adventure: as nobody believes,
The Puritan saw a gray landscape, cold and dolorous…
Where the mists of a recent rain made wet those roads,
The few of which crossed marshes thick with old toads.
Dying were the woods that grew from out fouler bogs…
Than any the Puritan had seen before in all of his years.
Villages here and there: their fences all of rotting logs…
Empty of life, he passed through and heard loud tears.
Wept by ghosts unseen, and so assuming it the wind…
The Puritan left those villages behind and set out again.
But as evening came, his breath was cold and laboring,
His steed was pushed too far, and both were suffering.
Finally, he came unto a graveyard perched upon hills,
Surrounded by a low stone wall broken with neglect…
He passed the wall, as his horse shook with foul chills,
Dying beneath him, and so he had not time to reflect…
Only to leave the beast behind him: and journey along.
But all about him the sound of a violin playing a song…
Familiar and haunting: that called the dead from sleep!
And so, the dead of ages did from the evil soil creep…
To the tune of a white-dressed figure by some old oak,
Who sat upon a log playing the tune, but never spoke.
The Puritan saw the dead begin to join in a dire waltz,
As he thought he heard a voice recalling his old faults.
The pale one with the violin, a raven-haired maid she,
Stopped only to light candles all around, for all to see.
The dance of the dead continued long for it was night,
And long were the hours, before the break of dawn…
With those grim dancers: the Puritan’s long-dead wife,
Did plead for him to join her upon the graveyard lawn.
And thence, the dead encircled the Puritan all about…
He could not fight them, for his sword but only metal.
No silver had he to ward off death; only cruel doubt…
And that was not enough to postpone his death rattle.
He danced with his wife, and upon the break of morn,
When the pale one’s violin had played its’ final note…
The Puritan lay lifeless, his finery all tattered and torn,
And of his tragic tale: nothing more, the tellers wrote.
But on cold nights in autumn, a pale white maid plays,
A lonely violin: until the coming of the sun's gold rays.
A Puritan of Salem town, a swordsman of high renown,
Went riding out of the gates, of the ancient stockade…
Oh fare ye well to town, said the swordsman of renown,
For I have been a militiaman, and I shall not be afraid!
And so he spurred his horse along a trail little traveled…
Through Indian country and beyond, in places so dark,
That any lesser man would feel all his nerves unraveled…
But steely was that Puritan’s resolve, and so on a lark,
He journeyed beyond lands called civilized by mankind,
Saying fare ye well to the place of his birth and family.
He was always a man so different in spirit and in mind,
Unafraid: of the things that oft haunted the wild country.
But oft a snow-white owl watched him on his journeys,
Seeming to mock him, when he did only as he pleased.
Whilst riding along an autumn trail covered with leaves,
From high oak trees: of fiery orange and yellow colors…
Seeking after the kind of adventure: as nobody believes,
The Puritan saw a gray landscape, cold and dolorous…
Where the mists of a recent rain made wet those roads,
The few of which crossed marshes thick with old toads.
Dying were the woods that grew from out fouler bogs…
Than any the Puritan had seen before in all of his years.
Villages here and there: their fences all of rotting logs…
Empty of life, he passed through and heard loud tears.
Wept by ghosts unseen, and so assuming it the wind…
The Puritan left those villages behind and set out again.
But as evening came, his breath was cold and laboring,
His steed was pushed too far, and both were suffering.
Finally, he came unto a graveyard perched upon hills,
Surrounded by a low stone wall broken with neglect…
He passed the wall, as his horse shook with foul chills,
Dying beneath him, and so he had not time to reflect…
Only to leave the beast behind him: and journey along.
But all about him the sound of a violin playing a song…
Familiar and haunting: that called the dead from sleep!
And so, the dead of ages did from the evil soil creep…
To the tune of a white-dressed figure by some old oak,
Who sat upon a log playing the tune, but never spoke.
The Puritan saw the dead begin to join in a dire waltz,
As he thought he heard a voice recalling his old faults.
The pale one with the violin, a raven-haired maid she,
Stopped only to light candles all around, for all to see.
The dance of the dead continued long for it was night,
And long were the hours, before the break of dawn…
With those grim dancers: the Puritan’s long-dead wife,
Did plead for him to join her upon the graveyard lawn.
And thence, the dead encircled the Puritan all about…
He could not fight them, for his sword but only metal.
No silver had he to ward off death; only cruel doubt…
And that was not enough to postpone his death rattle.
He danced with his wife, and upon the break of morn,
When the pale one’s violin had played its’ final note…
The Puritan lay lifeless, his finery all tattered and torn,
And of his tragic tale: nothing more, the tellers wrote.
But on cold nights in autumn, a pale white maid plays,
A lonely violin: until the coming of the sun's gold rays.
Dead Stop Heart
Snowy laden, frosty weight
Heavy hinges, iron gate
Steamy breathing, icy tears
Crystal clarity, hidden fears
Acid bile, stark pure dread
Deep blue fear, living dead
Tilted gray markers, hammered names
Deep dark thoughts, wormed remains
Coal black raven, lifeless eyes
Oil fired lantern, shroud demise
Flutter movement, scurry scratch
Shudder whine, rusty latch
Bone sinew fingers, skyward reaching
Dead stop heart, vomitus leeching
Dank breath exhale, silent scream
Loose bowel pinch, nightmare dream
Snowy laden, frosty weight
Heavy hinges, iron gate
Steamy breathing, icy tears
Crystal clarity, hidden fears
Acid bile, stark pure dread
Deep blue fear, living dead
Tilted gray markers, hammered names
Deep dark thoughts, wormed remains
Coal black raven, lifeless eyes
Oil fired lantern, shroud demise
Flutter movement, scurry scratch
Shudder whine, rusty latch
Bone sinew fingers, skyward reaching
Dead stop heart, vomitus leeching
Dank breath exhale, silent scream
Loose bowel pinch, nightmare dream
The creaking gate swings open
"its only a gust of wind"
The darkness swallows your flickering candle's light when you turn your head
"its only that dam gust of wind"
The slight shiver runs up your spine,
"it only bcause of that gust of wind"
The feeling of something lightly touch the small of your back, on your skimpy costume
"it was only something brought by the gust of wind"
The realization of that of something trying to take a hold of you, frightens you
The sounds of your own foot steps starting to get raster as you start to race towards light heightens you.
The thing though,
what you didn't noticed,
the words before the creature let go of you
"Don't be frightened little demon of the night, i only move like a gust of wind,your my first victim and now my night of fun begins"
"its only a gust of wind"
The darkness swallows your flickering candle's light when you turn your head
"its only that dam gust of wind"
The slight shiver runs up your spine,
"it only bcause of that gust of wind"
The feeling of something lightly touch the small of your back, on your skimpy costume
"it was only something brought by the gust of wind"
The realization of that of something trying to take a hold of you, frightens you
The sounds of your own foot steps starting to get raster as you start to race towards light heightens you.
The thing though,
what you didn't noticed,
the words before the creature let go of you
"Don't be frightened little demon of the night, i only move like a gust of wind,your my first victim and now my night of fun begins"
Rainbow flickering over my ceiling I lay back watching lazy in the sunshine
Everything about this room is stillness
Warmth washes over me
A smile teasing at the corners of my mouth
Eyes closing slowly as my head turns to the side
Nuzzling deep into the sun warmed pillow
A red smear discoloring the tiny pink flowers that flutter over its surface
The blood runs from my mouth as my lips part just slightly
I can taste it on my tongue
Look again at the room and its stillness
See the walls splashed with color
How the rainbows of that crystal hanging in the window
Offset the redness of those dripping walls
Look again at the floor slick as the walls
The hand peeking from under the bed
Fingers twitching in the last moments of its life
As I lay in the lazy sunlight
All the while smiling, rainbows dancing
Welcoming in our Halloween
Everything about this room is stillness
Warmth washes over me
A smile teasing at the corners of my mouth
Eyes closing slowly as my head turns to the side
Nuzzling deep into the sun warmed pillow
A red smear discoloring the tiny pink flowers that flutter over its surface
The blood runs from my mouth as my lips part just slightly
I can taste it on my tongue
Look again at the room and its stillness
See the walls splashed with color
How the rainbows of that crystal hanging in the window
Offset the redness of those dripping walls
Look again at the floor slick as the walls
The hand peeking from under the bed
Fingers twitching in the last moments of its life
As I lay in the lazy sunlight
All the while smiling, rainbows dancing
Welcoming in our Halloween
[font=Courier New][size=2]< to all you tight assholes out there >
it's Halloween,
loosen up a bit
dark chocolate covered dog turds
needles pressed into popcorn balls
candy kisses with glass splinters
black scorpions in fortune cookies
caramel apples with razor blades
fresh mint cockroach clusters
just jokes
little tricks in treats
get over it
no one died
- - -
it's Halloween,
loosen up a bit
dark chocolate covered dog turds
needles pressed into popcorn balls
candy kisses with glass splinters
black scorpions in fortune cookies
caramel apples with razor blades
fresh mint cockroach clusters
just jokes
little tricks in treats
get over it
no one died
- - -
I always liked Halloween,
the day you can go begging in the Autumn,
no one cares.
I always liked Halloween,
I could be a vampire or a princess,
no one cares.
I always liked Halloween, until that little boy in the Grim Reaper suit did that thing, behind the mausoleum, on me
whilst Mama was busy rubbing up against the Candy man at the well lit gates
but here's to Halloween, no one cares.
the day you can go begging in the Autumn,
no one cares.
I always liked Halloween,
I could be a vampire or a princess,
no one cares.
I always liked Halloween, until that little boy in the Grim Reaper suit did that thing, behind the mausoleum, on me
whilst Mama was busy rubbing up against the Candy man at the well lit gates
but here's to Halloween, no one cares.
