halloween poems
#1
put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.
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#2
Gothic Horrors

It was 12 o’clock and All Hallows Eve;
those Gothic gals sure looked game.
One sported a long raven-black mane,
the other donned an ashen-blonde bob.
Some might say they seemed rather eerie,
yet seductive with their long pierced tongues.

Alabaster skin and blood red lips;
within my sites their canines gleamed.
Fools-gold dress and black-vinyl mini,
such cute outfits fashioned in Hell.
We got some stares; they winked full of glee
with eyes shadowed gun-metal blue.

The way they swayed; so serpentine,
quite the wicked erotic queens.
Just loved their fake photographed smiles
on their tightly strung silicon frames.
Their skirts rode high and I was hypnotized,
as they flashed their fresh Xeroxed tattoos.

I followed them home to their abode,
way on the other side of the tracks.
I only recall their glossy wax lips
pressed heavily all over me.
My mind a blur, I was feeling quite strange,
midst smokey-sage and rosemary fumes.

I woke up so sick, one exhausted fool;
my girls were nowhere within sight.
Waited all day, so impatiently.
Oh this dilemma I found myself in.
Quite unpleasant, shackled like this;
my poor wrists burned with much pain.

Cold and embarrassed without my clothes.
those hot Goth Chicks were so cruel.
Within my cage, all was going so dim;
in lonely retrospect, what did I do?
From all my friends, I’m gonna catch hell,
if these ghouls ever let me go home!


(Billy, I cheated a bit and posted this again here, just to get things started!)
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris
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#3
thanks christopher Thumbsup

goth girls will get you every time :d
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#4
I dressed up as an owl last time
and went terwit terwoo.
Now i'm a bad-assed Chucky doll
and this knife's just for you.

Just keep your candy in bag
and don't answer the calls.
'Cause I'm a bad-assed Chucky doll
who stabbed you in the balls.

Oh look! Here comes your crazy gran
to look at all the sacks
'Cause I'm a bad-assed chucky doll
oh fuck she's got an axe
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#5
(10-29-2013, 12:34 PM)billy Wrote:  I dressed up as an owl last time
and went terwit terwoo.
Now i'm a bad-assed Chucky doll
and this knife's just for you.

Just keep your candy in bag
and don't answer the calls.
'Cause I'm a bad-assed Chucky doll
who stabbed you in the balls.

Oh look! Here comes your crazy gran
to look at all the sacks
'Cause I'm a bad-assed chucky doll
oh fuck she's got an axe

Wicked fun!
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris
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#6
american kids
eat bodyweight in candy
every Halloween

--or--

little ghosts and ghouls
fill their traps with sweetened treats -
fat americans
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Reply
#7
fat Americans ain't nothing but a peanut Big Grin



Knock, knock, ring, ring, trick or treat;
children beggars on the street.
Little ghouls and little ghosts
tend to fill their bag the most.
Dressed like little riding hood
missing bits and oozing blood.
Slimy green or rosy red
getting folk up from their bed.
Knock, knock, ring, ring, trick or treat
bastards.....
Reply
#8
(10-27-2013, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.
Not so sure about "funny", but I wrote one to contribute to your thread. Happy Hallow's Eve!

Mom's Halloween


It's Hallow's Eve, but I don't care.
I wish it'd go away.
I spent a hundred bucks on costumes
for the kids to wear one day!

Now they're asking for a pumpkin.
Not just one. I must get four!
They are much too young to carve them.
Wanna guess who'll have that chore?

I know what will come tomorrow.
"Is it time to dress up yet?",
every hour they will question me,
on edge and all upset.

The newsman said high chance for rain,
confirming what I dread.
They will all be high on sugar,
soaking wet, resisting bed.

Halloween is not a mother's day.
It's stressful, Ill admit.
If I didn't love those brats so much,
I guarantee I'd quit!

-Jenn
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#9
(10-27-2013, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.

This isn't funny, really, but it is the only Halloween poem i wrote and i don't foresee my writing another any time soon:

The Bogeyman

Your closet is my favorite place to stay -
it's snug and warm and I don't like the light.
When darkness comes I know you'll want to play
our little games. I think that I just might
scritch a dead monkey's paw across the door,
then slowly drag my nails along the wall
or maybe shamble-creak across the floor
so you can see my hunchback shadow crawl.

Do you remember Sarah from uptown;
don't waste your shaky whimper for the dead.
Hunkering next to her laundry mound
I sucked her chewy entrails through the bed.

But I'm still hungry for a little treat -
the tender lobes from your two dangling feet.
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#10
My first Halloween poem for 2013.

Deep Lore of Candy -

The Deep Lore of Candy,
Though it might seem a trend.
Is a big book of spells,
That surely come to no end.

It seems wrong to others,
But the U.S stands near.
The Deep Lore of Candy,
Is what makes our hearts swell.

We stuff our kids with candy,
So they'll stand a chance.
We tell them odd stories of fiction,
To keep them at ease.

The Deep Lore of Candy,
Is certainly no tale.
Collect all the candy on Halloween,
And you might get some Brandy.
"Oppression isn't a gender, race, or sexuality problem.
It is a Humanity problem." -Neil Hilborn
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#11
mary was a little vamp
who also had a ghost
and every time that mary came
the ghost was sure to go



it's funny enough Smile liked the 4th verse the best. i also liked it was from a mums perspective, (this isn't crit by the way, just saying Big Grin )

(10-31-2013, 04:52 AM)tigrflye Wrote:  
(10-27-2013, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.
Not so sure about "funny", but I wrote one to contribute to your thread. Happy Hallow's Eve!

Mom's Halloween


It's Hallow's Eve, but I don't care.
I wish it'd go away.
I spent a hundred bucks on costumes
for the kids to wear one day!

Now they're asking for a pumpkin.
Not just one. I must get four!
They are much too young to carve them.
Wanna guess who'll have that chore?

I know what will come tomorrow.
"Is it time to dress up yet?",
every hour they will question me,
on edge and all upset.

The newsman said high chance for rain,
confirming what I dread.
They will all be high on sugar,
soaking wet, resisting bed.

Halloween is not a mother's day.
It's stressful, Ill admit.
If I didn't love those brats so much,
I guarantee I'd quit!

-Jenn

not so nice sonnet Big Grin

I sucked her chewy entrails through the bed.

was excellent, did you mean scratch?


(10-31-2013, 06:19 AM)milo Wrote:  
(10-27-2013, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.
This isn't funny, really, but it is the only Halloween poem i wrote and i don't foresee my writing another any time soon:

The Bogeyman

Your closet is my favorite place to stay -
it's snug and warm and I don't like the light.
When darkness comes I know you'll want to play
our little games. I think that I just might
scritch a dead monkey's paw across the door,
then slowly drag my nails along the wall
or maybe shamble-creak across the floor
so you can see my hunchback shadow crawl.

Do you remember Sarah from uptown;
don't waste your shaky whimper for the dead.
Hunkering next to her laundry mound
I sucked her chewy entrails through the bed.

But I'm still hungry for a little treat -
the tender lobes from your two dangling feet.

great to see new guys take part :J:
(10-31-2013, 06:42 AM)Orion Wrote:  My first Halloween poem for 2013.

Deep Lore of Candy -

The Deep Lore of Candy,
Though it might seem a trend.
Is a big book of spells,
That surely come to no end.

It seems wrong to others,
But the U.S stands near.
The Deep Lore of Candy,
Is what makes our hearts swell.

We stuff our kids with candy,
So they'll stand a chance.
We tell them odd stories of fiction,
To keep them at ease.

The Deep Lore of Candy,
Is certainly no tale.
Collect all the candy on Halloween,
And you might get some Brandy.
Reply
#12
(10-31-2013, 06:19 AM)milo Wrote:  
(10-27-2013, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.

This isn't funny, really, but it is the only Halloween poem i wrote and i don't foresee my writing another any time soon:

The Bogeyman

Your closet is my favorite place to stay -
it's snug and warm and I don't like the light.
When darkness comes I know you'll want to play
our little games. I think that I just might
scritch a dead monkey's paw across the door,
then slowly drag my nails along the wall
or maybe shamble-creak across the floor
so you can see my hunchback shadow crawl.

Do you remember Sarah from uptown;
don't waste your shaky whimper for the dead.
Hunkering next to her laundry mound
I sucked her chewy entrails through the bed.

But I'm still hungry for a little treat -
the tender lobes from your two dangling feet.

An effective and very 'real' childhood nightmare for me! I would literally leap out of bed, dreaming that my foot was being grabbed! Ghoulishly entertaining my friend.
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris
Reply
#13
Say goodbye to sunlight:
on October's last night,
commute turns on headlights.

Just turned four
in his yearned for Blue's Clues suit,
eyes lit, ear to ear grin,
ready.
billy wrote:welcome to the site. make it your own, wear it like a well loved slipper and wear it out. ella pleads:please click forum titles for posting guidelines, important threads. New poet? Try Poetic DevicesandWard's Tips

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#14
shambling corpses
search for living tissue -
trusty crowbar
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Reply
#15
(10-27-2013, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  put your funny halloween poetry in this thread.

A Howl of a Night

Wraiths amongst the battlefield
Striking, swiftly and effortlessly
One by one, houses are ransacked and left in ruins
Nothing remains but just an empty handout
A Ghost Town, how fitting

Nowhere is safe
There's no escape
They’re in every shadow
Every dark corner of your mind
Your loss is their reward

Nothing stops their gluttony
Our Orange guardians,
Combatted skeletons, and
Menacing driveways do nothing
Against their well-orchestrated onslaught

They’ll be back
As they always do
To aim at the moon
And howl into the night
"Trick or Treat!"
I never highlight my flaws or deficits
Because none of that will matter when death visits
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#16
^hehe. I thought it was some hardcore demon stuff until "orange guardians" Smile
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Reply
#17
(11-05-2013, 04:46 AM)ThePinsir Wrote:  ^hehe. I thought it was some hardcore demon stuff until "orange guardians" Smile

haha you're not the only one who thought that
I never highlight my flaws or deficits
Because none of that will matter when death visits
Reply
#18
This is one of the cautionary tales based on true events that happened not far from here. I used to tell it sometimes to my young cousins around the campfire on those first cool October evenings.

It's called: Crisis



On his wedding night,
he realized his new wife
wasn't as chaste
as he'd hoped.

"My gynecologist accidentally broke me."
She told him.
"It's no big deal."

"No big deal?!" He shouted.
"I haven't touched a woman in 53 years,
my first wife was the ex-girlfriend of both
my older brother and his son,
you couldn't even wait till your 15th birthday?
I went all the way out there to the boondocks
to find a marriage-age so low.
And it seems I did it for nothing
now."

Some days later,
he came home from work, wondering out loud,
"Why does it burn so when I piss?"
He was too much in shock from a few other things
to accept what he already knew.

"Oh, that's probably just gonorrhea."
She said.
"I get it all the time."

"Gonor-damn-rhea?!"

"Yeah. It's nothing.
It's just like diarrhea, but comes out the other side.
You probably caught it from me, I've had it a lot lately."

He went outside,
mumbling to himself,
"What else does it say in your little diaryhea,
I wonder."

He drove for four days and four nights,
all the way back to her hometown,
and when he saw her father, he demanded,
"Why didn't you tell me she was such a slut?!"

After a few moments of shaking his head in confusion,
the man answered, "She's 15 years old, from a trailer court,
where her daddy lives with both her mama and her mama's
sister who could all the same have been her mama
if I hadn't seen the girl pop out of the other one myself.
I'm rightly sorry, son. An old man like you,
I expected knew as much about what kind of girl
she was."

Four days and four nights later,
he walked back in to find his young wife
naked on the couch making a video
of herself shoving what looked like
a comically over-sized billyclub so far
up her rear end, you could see it
poking through the skin of her stomach.

"Where you been?" She asked, sounding almost worried.
"I was so ascared,
I had to call your ex-stepson, Johnny, to come over and calm me down."

"Johnny, huh?" He said, burning with rage
and gonorrhea,
as he went to the bathroom
discharging four days and nights worth
of fire and ice.

"This is what we're going to do."
He told her, coming back into the living room.
"You're going to make me a list of all the boys and men
you've ever been with it.
You're going to start off with Johnny,
and work backwards."

"Oh dear." She exclaimed.
"I've been working it backwards with all the others but you.
I swear, you're the first that ever took me the husband way."

He sighed, and threw up in his mouth a bit.

"I wouldn't even let Daddy do that."
Those words were barely out of her mouth
before he was again out the door.

"A slut and a liar." He mumbled,
getting back in the car.

A devil appeared in his rearview mirror.
"In and out, in and out the front door of your own house,
eh, lover boy?" It said.

He swerved to the side of the road,
attempting to knock the mirror off on a mailbox,
but the mailbox just got knocked over
instead.

"Eh, buddy." The devil said.
"No more of that hanky-panky with roadside items,
all right?"

"Whatever you say, dammit. Just leave me alone."

"My name's not Dammit." The devil said.
"If you knew what was good for you,
you'd pay more attention to what I'm trying to show you."

He looked in the mirror, and saw
a car following him with its high beams on,
nearly blinding him.
It was a car he'd seen right after he'd turned onto the main highway.
He'd noticed it was driving with no lights,
and flashed his a few times to warn the driver.

Now that car's lights were burning down his neck
and it was coming on so fast he had to keep speeding up
so it wouldn't ram
into back of him.

"First you let them get your wife from behind,
now your worn-out automobile." Said the devil.
"What kind of man are you, anyways?"

"An old man. A tired man."
He moaned to himself.

Feeling hopeless, he swerved again,
this time to an awkward parking position
on the side of the road.
The other car slammed on breaks,
and,
of course,
started in reverse back towards him
and his car,
which he simply turned off,
taking out the keys and dropping them to the floorboard.

The devil vanished.
But not before whispering,
"It's your funeral."

The car stopped, a man got out,
motioned to roll the window down.
"Listen here now, pappy.
See, I seen you going round with a real nice
piece of tail.
Now, I believe you going to start this here car up,
and you're going to take me back to your place
and introduce me to your daughter."

"She's my wife."

"Well that's even better, pops.
Let's get going. I ain't got all night to be fooling round out here."
He got in the car. The keys were taken up,
stuck in, the ignition turned, the engine started,
they headed back to the house of ill repute.

After twenty minutes of standing out on the lawn
listening,
he watched the man walk out of the house
and drive away in his car.

Inside, there was blood,
a buttock on the couch, a knee near the tv,
two sets of four toes still attached to feet
on the kitchen table,
another buttock over by the microwave,
teeth looking as yellow as buttered popcorn here and there
along the floor.

The head was on the back of the toilet
next to an unopened box of Kleenex.
It was crying.

"I'll understand if you don't want me anymore, darling.
That man took me in the husband way. But I didn't
want it." She said.

A few minutes later he heard the car pull back into the driveway,
the man came back inside the house, saying,
"I don't know what I was thinking.
You could identify me."

Thirty minutes after that,
the two heads were setting next to each other
on the middle of the bed in their bedroom.
One of them with a sharpened Q-Tip through both its eyes.
"How many men you used your mouth on?"
He asked her.

"Just Johnny, and my gynecologist.
Why you want to know, dear?
And sometimes Daddy would smear my baby food on his . . . "

"No reason, I guess!"

Leaving the house,
the man had left the radio on the bedstand playing.
It was an old song the one head had always liked
but hadn't heard in a long while,
so he sang along with it:

Well that's all right
that's all right!
That's all right now Mama
anyway you do!
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