Halloween 2015 Challenge Poems

[Magnetron]

#26 : ElmerGlew

Allergy

That weeping portrait. Tears of blood.
Steps heard in empty halls
A woman who is vulnerable,
Her critics, who'd say Schmaltz.

Some home where no one wants to live,
Except those ghosts who do
Inhabit rooms in which I'd sleep
Quite nervously. Achoo!​

 

[Magnetron]

#27 : Magnetron

The Circus Is In Town

Turn your painted frown upside down

before I smack it off your face

Ever since the circus came to town
they're everywhere like cockroaches
overrunning the place in
oversized tennis shoes
red rubber ball noses
trying to chase away sorrows and blues
with slapstick antics
silly poses
attempting to make me laugh

but I choose to not laugh
because I hate clowns

Yeah, I hate clowns

and if I get the chance
I'll take them down

This is the last straw
There ought to be a law against
wearing face paint if it's not Halloween
I'd be ashamed if I was a mime, but I ain't
Never will you catch me
dressing like a drag queen

Take your mile long handkerchiefs
those squirting flowers;
stick'em where the sun never shined
If I was a hero with superpowers
I'd eradicate
every
single
damn
one of your kind

because I hate clowns

Yeah, I hate clowns

and If I get the opportunity
I'll get in my car
run them down

Drive right over your polka dotted bodies
till I hear those annoying bicycle horns
squeak their final squeaks
then back up in reverse gear
run you over a second time
making certain you're dead
I wish had a sawed off twelve guage shotgun
to blow off my own head
every time the circus comes to my home town

Did I tell you recently that I hate clowns?

Yeah, I hate clowns

and if I get my hands on one
I'm gonna wring his filthy neck
pop his head off like a pimple
jab a screwdriver into his painted dimple
bash him with a mallet
metal, not a rubber one
Oh, it would be so simple

Die, clowns die!​

 

[Magnetron]

#28 : Magnetron

Behind The Scenes

Listen to her moan and wail
simply to no avail
in sadness more so than malice

No one sees her standing there

Did anyone ever really care
about poor little Alice ?

Always was lacking in attention
eager for her parent's affection
Never did she grow up to understand
or come to know what love means

And
she continues to roam
the house that strangers after strangers
insist upon calling their home

What few years of life she was blessed with
was lived behind the scenes

followed by decades of a paler existence
wandering in a catacomb
taking refuge from wicked stepmothers
and Red Queens

Bedtime stories she can't even read
Without warm smiles tucking her in bed
No kind souls to give her whatever she might need
or to tell her

she is fucking dead​

 

[Magnetron]

#29 : Magnetron

Whispers Of The Dead

Do you hear the whispers of the dead?

I mostly hear them inside my head
and sometimes when I'm restless
lying naked in my bed
they tell me to do things
that I normally wouldn't do
Wouldn't you like to know?
Wouldn't you like to know?
Wouldn't you like to know
what it is that they've said?

Your eyes widen as I command your attention
with subtle hints of what I'm too shy to mention
what the dead advise me
to ease my frustrations and tension;
such a simple thing
that I honestly never ever did before
Wouldn't you like to know?
Wouldn't you like to know?
Wouldn't you like to know
what it is that they tell me to do?

If I told, then you might get jealous
Let's just say, it involves the sinful caress
and a single finger
It leaves me breathless
Such a dirty thing
I can't seem to stop doing now
Wouldn't you like to know?
Wouldn't you like to know?
Wouldn't you like to know
What the dead are telling you to do?​

 

[Magnetron]

#30 : Magnetron

In the Home of the Mountain Queen

I can see you

ass parked on the sofa
scarfing down Doritos
computer in your lap
chatting in that online sex forum
as usual

Squandering so much of your free time
in idle gossip
posting photos of cats
harassing newbies
brazenly calling your friends,
cunts
pausing to lick your artificially cheesed digits

Time better spent practicing your cello
becoming one with the music
letting the vibrational energy flow
through your delicate fingertips
into those harmonious strings
consciously savoring the music in sips
rather than unconsciously gulping
downloads from I-Tunes
or slurping up You-Tube streams

You are so much more alive
when playing your instrument
than this anonymous pseudo existence you perpetuate
behind a fake name and poorly pixelated avatar
feigning to be so many things you are not,
Miss MountinQueen91

It saddens me
how you will never live up to your potential

and without my guidance
you would remain lost

You don't know who I am
even though we've met once before
in that very same online forum
where you referred to me as dickbag
and all your cunt mates lolled hard

You don't see me

or hear me

as I exit the darkly lit hallway
approaching rapidly from behind
deftly conducting a razor knife across your throat
orchestrating a left to right slashing motion
while pulling on your pretty blonde mane
letting the arterial spray surge in spurts
painting the canvass of your laptop's screen
like a mad demon artist
a virtual Jackson Pollock of Molloch
until your gurgling palette is emptied

Now, my dear Mountain Queen
please, indulge me
take my hand in yours
put your other hand on my shoulder
right there
like so
and I will show you what it really feels like
to be
alive

And you and I shall
dance a dance
in elegant romance
like the Vietnamese Waltz
before the flickering hearth warming
these cold brick 'n' mortared vaults

Imagining your fingers
beginning to sing
in keys of G
strumming catgut string
auditioning
a splendid solo renditioning of
In The Hall Of The Mountain King

If only you could witness
this new version of you
unwrapped from the box
taken down from the shelf
You'd be asking,
Who are these strangers
cutting up the rug
jitterbugging in my home?

Unfortunately
not so much for you
more so for me
your footwork is pathetic
as poetic as my next stalker journal entry
and online challenge competition poem

When playing on the Internets
perhaps you should think twice
before calling someone you don't know
dickbag
Next time consider trying to be nice

And who knows?
Perhaps I wouldn't be here now
wasting my time showing you how
to be more sophisticated
Oww ...

... oww ...

... goddammit!
Would you quit stepping on my toes?!?​

 

[Magnetron]

#31 : Magnetron

The Legend Of Johnny Scarecrow

Minding his own business
John Brown found himself staring down
the business end of a sawed off shotgun

A potato sack drawn over his head
didn't even know where he was taken
never even had a chance to run

Hung from a cross with his own belt
At his feet stripped bare of shoes
fire was set to a methodical stacking of wood

In the Autumn chill of twilight's veil
as his flesh did burn and melt
gargled screams came from within that makeshift hood

His remains were discovered the day after
by children on a shortcut through the corn
Suddenly cut short was their laughter;
they had never seen a dead body before
and here it was when

the legend of Johnny Scarecrow was born

Later as Minister Wilkins said a prayer
Widowed Ida Brown shed many a tear
crying, Black folk shouldn't have to die this way!

Sheriff Anderson knelt at the crime scene
whispering into the victim's blistered ear,
The law will make those sons-of-bitches dearly pay!

Wilkins somberly closed the leather bound Bible
his only earthbound treasure
saying,
Leave it to the Lord to deliver justice
for they will know the mighty hand of God
and burn as John did in the wrath of His displeasure
If I promise anything
I promise you this

Onward into evening
sundown marked another wooden cross
being firmly planted in the ground

Figures in white garb gathered
in celebration of one less black man
living in their town

And the Klan mocked the memory of John Brown

They lit the cross
laughed
and danced around the flames
shouting with great pride,
White Power!

That's when a lone figure
suddenly appeared to the mass
and Johnny Scarecrow slew them all
in the midnight hour

With a razor sharp sickle in hand
stolen from Farmer Parker's shed
he decapitated their pointy hoods left and right

As they scattered like rats through the corn
this demon with a potato sack on its head
killed them all one by one in a single night

He slaughtered them in a fury of vengeance
as they ran panic stricken for their lives
not even with the tiniest sliver of remorse

They shot him with their guns once or twice
even stabbed him with their knives;
at some point he was trampled by a horse

The -

That's not how the story goes!
Little Billy Fitzimmons angrily groaned
Campfire glow illuminating his friends' faces

He was saying, Everyone knows .....
When something in the woods behind them moaned
sending the children running home at breakneck paces

And the legend of Johnny Scarecrow grew
around many more campfires throughout the years
handed down from one generation to the next of kin

Who killed those Klansmen?
No one knew
Youngsters speculated amongst their peers
while one man had to live onward with that sin

Years later on his deathbed
Tom Anderson asked the Minister Wilkins
to be present for his final confession

Before he uttered a word
just then life fled his body
Wilkins sighed and said a final, Amen

Clenched in the Sheriff's hand ...

... a bloodstained potato sack

Evidence
that mysteriously disappeared from the investigation
never to be found like that rusted sickle
now hanging in Wilkin's barn

The hand of God was something to be feared

Justice delivered just as promised

and that's how the legend of Johnny Scarecrow
became another yarn​

 

[Magnetron]

#32 : legerdemer

Day of the Dead

You drove a stake through my heart
and your blood ran through my fingers.
I washed them but they would not come clean.

You tore out my hair in chunks, skin still clinging,
and open sores gaped all over your body, glass shards
like swords, glinting in wounds that would not close.

I shouted from rooftops, in canyons,
from skyscrapers and mountain peaks.
Your ears rang with voices not my own,
My tears shone in your eyes, obliterating sight,
and you heard not.

A hundred thousand deaths flutter, moths perished from memory.
Yet they remain in the wombs of our mothers, in the palms of our fathers.
Your cold fires burned like dulled steel, faithful to the one and only.
God, you say.

You tried to exorcise my demons, while guardian angels
still stoked my sublimated rage.​

 

[Magnetron]

#33 : Magnetron

whatever butters your popcorn

Working the popcorn popper at the stove
fluffy pee-jays on
prepping
popping
getting ready for evening's non-stopping
creature feature marathon

when she hears the doorbell ringing

She answers in expectation of being
trick-or-treated
and is instead greeted by Harry
his trenchcoat open wide
singing

more so shouting in his drunken outing,

Happy Halloweeeeen-ie!
May I come inside?
I brought a delicious sack o nut filled canny
for my lovely bride hic soon to be!

"Oh, pants ... not this again."​

 

[Magnetron]

#34 : GuiltyPleasure aka Tristesse2

Ghost

No rattle of chains or evil deeds
Just a gentle reminder of what I was
In limbo following ancient creeds
To be felt or heard without the cause.

It's a gentle reminder of what I was
A shadow of my previous form
To be felt or heard without the cause
A vague remembrance of the norm.

A shadow of my previous form
A sound, a sigh, perhaps a thought
A vague remembrance of the norm
A situation never sought.

A sound, a sigh, perhaps a thought
A sob so soft, so full of sorrow
A situation never sought
An emptiness of No Tomorrow.

No rattle of chains or evil deeds
A sob so soft, so full of sorrow
In limbo following ancient creeds
An emptiness of No Tomorrow.​

 

[Magnetron]

#35 : Tzara

Elm Street Blues

He nightly stalks in dreamtime, when you're fast asleep.
He stalks each night in dreamtime—baby, while you sleep.
He wants to take your body and he wants to slice it deep.

He's got razorblades for fingers and he wants to play with them.
Sleek razorblades for fingers—he'd love to slice your skin.
You'll take some pounds off, baby, 'cause he'll slice you really thin.

Just hope you wake up screaming, 'cause at least you'll be alive.
Wake yourself with screaming, darlin'. You just might survive.
'Cause if you keep on sleeping, honey, then you're gonna die.

His name is Freddy Krueger, and died once long ago.
He's Freddy Krueger, baby. He died some years ago.
Your mother knows his story, and the vengeance he is owed.

So lay your pretty body down in bed and fear tonight.
Pray your pretty body will awake to see dawn's light.
'Cause Freddy's stalking Elm Street and he'll kill you with delight.​

 

[Magnetron]

#36 : Harry Hill

Autumn Nota

Exhausted sun walks so very slow
no spring left in his step, slogging on
below the zenith when so spritely
marching on the heavens highest road

slow the days and shorter now they fall
crafty winter lets it's seasonal pall
flutter on the north winds frigid call
prepare you creatures both large and small

gather wood and start the cheery fire
hummingbirds fly south to find the sun
regaining strength soon to be required
back to the green woods when winter's done

and there in your sleepy Autumn nests
dream of the sun's return while you rest​

 

[Magnetron]

#37 : todski28

Richard Chase

Mum said he didn't have to take the pills anymore
he was free,
but they still want him,
he knows they do.....

chitter........
scratch
he sits up,
uncertainty unchained
creaking a jangle like rusted hinges
that unlock a macabre mausoleum

They're here, he hunches in dishevelled
crust covered filth
the stains of what, god only knew
he whizzes a cola shake
the dregs left reek of rot
he chugs down his health drink to stop his heart shrinking


Today he scrawled
on his calendar,

quietly

chitter........scratch
confusion corrupts the night

chitter....scratch
louder, a little faster
paranoia permeates.
They're there, he hears them
they must be there?
surely?

Chitter
did you hear it?
a small little skitter,

Calm yourself, he thinks,
looking about through fear stained eyes
a walk to clear my head
glancing at walls that press in, make him feel
small

the door thuds shut as this
man thing shuffles along foam flecked
and reeking.

She is one of them,
he sees her enter the house
hastens to catch the creature that would dare to
attempt to kill him
what was he to do
he had to save his own life

locked latches mean NO he thinks to himself
as he turns the latch and is
invited in by the
open door.

Scratch..
what was that?
walls all around,
are they in there?
It's all in your head
gonna end up dead,
fuck,

fuck,

fuck.....
Skin shivers
again it chitters
in the ceiling?

No it's coming from her,
from inside her......
he has to get at
get it out,
eat it
to stop his heart from
stopping.....

he gulps down a health drink,
mixed in an empty yoghurt container
wipes the red, iron scented remnants on his shirt
breathes a sigh
he got it, it can't get him anymore

CHItter.......
SCratch,

What are you?
under the floor
a silent patch,
again the scratch

where is it?

maddening, maladies of the mind
anonymously there

pause, panting,

strain,

listen,

he whirrs a whirr of cola smoothie
fingers the dog's collar on the bench
grime crusted fingers scrape at
a small stain on the collars edge
as he drains another drink

SCRATCH,
Need to get out
of
get out of here

he loads his gun,
because it's not safe anymore,
the Nazi's are coming
and they're coming hard
they want his blood
he has to get theirs first

he wanders in desolate isolation
he seeks the source
of his curse

another unlocked door
and they're are upon him
mandibles click together

he blows their heads off
click, Bang

click,

Bang

click, Bang
three

(chitter it whispered, nearly hushed in silence)

it's inside the third
he listens at the things navel
has to search inside it for sometime,
it's in there deep.
grunting out his exertions he finds
release from it
inside his head......
he bathes and drinks an energy drink
infused with tonic

clambering into its vehicle
he flees the scene with his prize
he knows, if he eats it
and mixes his smoothies
he'll be safe,
even if
if it's
if it's just
for a while

he refrigerates his trophies,
settling down for the night
safe........

chitter,
oh so bitter

scratch, he's sure they're
fucking rats

chitter,

scratch

splatter,
in grey matter.​

 

[Magnetron]

#38 : legerdemer

A Grinch-y Halloween

When Halloween knocks at your door
And sweetly asks you for more,
You ask, "Trick or treat candy?"
Kid says, "Oh, that's dandy!"
"Oops, sorry, I left it all at the store."​

 

[Magnetron]

#39 : Othermoose

Fear

Blood drips from its mouth
And its skin is pale and dead
Evil seeps from its pores
And its eyes are glowing red

It is Fear
Old as the sun
It is Fear
And you'll wish you had run

It sneaks into the house
And steals the child from his bed
Don't look for you son
His body's torn from his head

It is Fear
Old as the sun
It is Fear
And you'll wish you had run

The creature will not stop
Until its hunger has been fed
So flee for you lives!
Do you hear what I've said?

It is Fear
Old as the sun
It is Fear
And you'll wish you had run

Fear is here
And now. Your time. Is done.​

 

[Magnetron]

#40 : Angeline

Poetry

Higgledy piggledy
Edgar of Baltimore
frightened more people than
Bela as Drac.

Think of him lying there
stoned in a fever dream,
overindulgently
painting it black.​

 

[Magnetron]

#41 : Angeline

Shiveree

Everyone knows that the dead still exist
Skeptics can shut their eyes
Lock the doors pocket keys but night will fall
Surely you are prepared

Listen the silence is no solitude
Perhaps some creak may sigh
Wind or the rain might exclaim from the roof
Could be just anything

Grandfather come for the key to the vault
Rattles in on a breeze
Children who died in the attic above
Chatter restless as bones

Everyone feels the dead when they're alone
Spirits feed on unease
Fingers like icicles slip down the spine
Something's looking at you​

 

[Magnetron]

#42 : butters

There are no monsters, only man...

Put down your books of woe, demonic texts;
discard the cross and weeping wooden beads,
your obscure lore and monstrous woodcut prints,
your stakes, your godly prayers that none will heed;
unstring the garlic bulbs, unveil the glass,
forget the silvered bullet, holy flask.

Shape-changers, grim, and drinkers of our blood,
those eaters of the flesh, the stumbling dead,
the howling beasts, possessed minds spewing filth...
do you dare name the one name we should dread?
each child within must grow to understand:
one day, we to, shall walk the earth as Man.​

 

[Magnetron]

#43 : greenmountaineer

Hallow's Eve Dream

His treat was a jigger of Beefeater gin,
ice cubes and tonic with a twist,
well, maybe two to help him sleep,

for hot summer nights with Maeve still seared
burning in him as she appeared
in the fog bottom night of Hallow's Eve.

“I may be a ghost or maybe a dream.
You'll find either way debauchery
is in my deep green eyes,” said she,
"besides, Dear Heart, I need a good foin,"

And though the mind speaks strangely in dreams,
and ghosts may too for all that he knew,
she moaned when she rode John Donovan.​

 

[Magnetron]

#44 : Piscator

Windigo

As winter comes to Lac la Biche,
the lake it freezes, the snow it falls
and the wind she always blows.
Wolves prowl the long cold dark,
howling neath Aurora's dance,
yet more fearsome than
the cold and wolves
is the one, no longer a man ,
the dreaded Windigo.

Trapped in winter's frigid tomb,
the handful of hares
which fall to one's snares
fill stomach but sear the flesh.
As strength and wit grow dim,
by hunger driven mad,
one gnaws a frozen partner's bone
and tastes the marrow sweet.
Yet all too soon, it's gone
and one must seek another.

In the silver moonlight of the Boreal night
beware of one who walks alone.
Stay in your cabin with fire ablaze
and venture out not till dawn.​

 

[Magnetron]

#45 : Lyricalli

What You Wished For

I warned you, didn't I?
Not to look too close
to leave things lie
lest you spoil the illusion
of our once upon a time

"How your words tempt me
thrill me
bring me to my knees
fill me
with the spark I seek
this light I need from you
to see
let there be...
more "

Oh, why is it always the same?
Your discontent
in getting what you crave
this game of tricks and treats
you came to play

My dear, you chose this masquerade

"But there is more, please,
more to see
let me reach past
this spell you cast before me
I need..."

Enough! Oh, but it's never
enough for any of you
seeking to find
all that lies behind
the mind and machinery
of magic

So you shall see
what you think you need
let's remove the masks dear
then please tell me:

Has your vision become clearer
now that you're trapped
in this haunted house
of mirrors?​

 

[Magnetron]

#46 : Harry Hill

Nota Bad Way to Go

They met in New Orleans, Chez Vampir'
cafe' au lait and risque banter
walked off dessert down by the river,
yankee man, petite cajun lady

Mardi Gras revelers danced in the street,
the pre-Lent debauch on its last week,
no place to find the mild and the meek
all full of whiskey and fatted meat

he laid her down in the soft green grass
when she said this night's made for sinners
fanged him dry while he pounded her ass
lost himself in her hot tight center

and as his spirit rose to the sky
she called, waving, 'au voir cher, goodbye'​

 

[Magnetron]

#47 : Trixareforkids

Trick or Treat

It's midnight in the garden of good and plenty
Mr. Goodbar is looking for the double mint twins
hoping to get his tootsie pop licked
Jujube is stuck at home watching the sugar babies
while Mary Jane is out sweet tarting it up with Mike and Ike
Reese 's trying to get a piece of a babe named Ruth
but coming up zero as she snickers at his whatchamacallit
That hot tamale Honey is hoping to work her charms
on Clark for a 100 grand payday
Little does she know he's over on 5th Avenue
getting his oh from Henry
Just another Saturday night here in Candy Land
where everybody's looking for a trick or a treat​

 

[Magnetron]

#48 : Magnetron

I had a hunch it was you

Udderly shudderly was Lady's Butterly's lover
for a harry hill of a hunch he sported
on his back and often he snorted
much like a billy goat
having a monumental sinus attack
Whenever he entered public rooms
townsfolk were taken aback
sometimes swatting him with brooms
more often than not they ran
ducked for cover
or dived into the moat
at the mere sight of this man
Lady's Butterly's lover
for little reason other than just because
he was tad frightening to look upon
what poor sap that Igor was
until one day lightening struck him on
his rump which straightened out the hump in his spine
And he shouted, Holy fuck ... boy, do I ever feel fine!
​

 

[butters]

bump for everyone to read through

 

[Magnetron]

bump for Igor's hump