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Old 10-23-2015, 05:41 PM   #1
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Halloween 2015 Challenge Poems

#1 : todski28

Ted

My tan van
Volkswagon revs its engine
gently to our planned meeting destination
she is so pretty
hair parted in the center
I want to own every last piece of her
but she was a faded dream
a requiem to go with all the other
failed relationships in my life

A mother that wasn't a mother
a father that was brutal
unkind and not really my father
to find out such a thing has devastating
consequences on one's psyche
I mean what if you found out your whole
world was a lie

would you lie with any woman
willing to help you carry your book to the car
how the gullible really look to the predator
once my charms have disarmed
your instincts

then you are mine
I own every piece of you
at least until our relationship
decomposes and I'm left wanting
craving the satisfaction of a new fling
granted I'll return a time or two
maybe bring you a new dress a gift
from the shiftless drifter
sorry I broke your heart
as I drive off in my tan Volkswagen
your now dead eyes accusing

a few too many beers to forget the indecency
you encroached on my life
the best way to get over a woman
is to get under another
so they say

I have a law degree, a degree in psychology
I have prospects in the world
all these women just fall for me
I cant help that, I'm just that kinda guy
they want me to own them
how can I deny them their wants
ok, so I leave them quick and fast
and my final touch can be as cold as a grave
so what, you gotta cut these bitches off
one nighters and such
they want too much from me,
I own them in that moment
I take them with me forever
in my memory
but I'm not a bad guy
just misunderstood

Thirty six confirmed times
misunderstood
but they were beautiful
and like a silk flower attracts the bee
they were and are forever mine
lets ride the lighting together
my pretties
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:42 PM   #2
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#2 : GuiltyPleasure aka Tristesse2

No Whispered Prayer

No one will stare on this one night of the year,
the one night when we fit right in with the crowd,
no garlic braid or cross and no whispered prayer.

No slinking in shadows, heads high and unbowed.
We dance with the revellers, free until dawn,
the one night when we fit right in with the crowd.

Young girls, all quite blind to the evil we spawn,
are drawn, just like flies, to the scent of danger.
We dance with the revellers, free until dawn.

I bow to a blond, preparing to changer her,
fangs sinking in deep now, disguised as a kiss.
She’s drawn, like a fly, to the scent of danger.

She swoons in my arms, quite the picture of bliss.
And so to the next one, the night is a feast,
fangs sinking in deep now, disguised as a kiss.

The crowd closes in, sweet freedom for this beast,
no one will stare on this one night of the year.
So on to the next one, the nigh is a feast,
no garlic braid or cross and no whispered prayer.
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:42 PM   #3
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#3 : GuiltyPleasure aka Tristesse2

Pumpkins

Suddenly in September
they flood the produce aisles
spilling sunlight
into dingy corners

Plump progeny
of yellow trumpet-flowers
and hot summer days
when drunken bees droned off
heavy with pollen

Dotting fields among the tendrils
and heart shaped leaves they shine
waiting to be collected
heaped onto trucks
that spill them into piles
of orange promise

We sift the hoard looking for
the impeccable one
to proudly grace our porch
or make the perfect pie

Inside they give up
their slippery seeds
reluctantly in webby clumps
of pumpkin posterity

They grin bravely
through candle-lit triangle-eyes
and gap-toothed mouths
as if they know the end is near
and glory will be fleeting

It saddens me
to see the forsaken ones
stillborn Jack-o-lanterns
lying in scattered piles
imploding slowly
like forlorn orange balloons
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:43 PM   #4
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#4 : GuiltyPleasure aka Tristesse2

Vampires

In darkened galleries
of lust we wait
framed in dust and guilty absence
be wary in the night
for we are patient
aware of every need
desiring only swift satisfaction
pale arms embrace the incautious
lifting inhibitions off stiff backs
whispering seductive secrets
reducing all resistance
for the flesh is weak in our bonds
each has his priapic preference
a seductive skill to bend
and take his prize
smooth skin sliced clean
ah! Heady drink to slake
the thirst of centuries
and render our rebirth.
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:43 PM   #5
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#5 : todski28

Jack

Dark clouds hang in the
October sky,
Amongst the
cobblestone clutter
stands a man cloaked in kindness
his grin friendly,
so honest it gains instant trust,
the confidence when he thrusts out his hand
sucks you in with warmth almost like
a long lost friend re-united
his pale blue eyes sparkle with mirth

deep below, all there is, is dirt
knives slash, clubs bash, sharps sever, bars
that pry and lever decapitated heads,
thrill as his smiling eyes enjoy the dead
he owns no moral code,
he owes no sorry,

worry,
for the ripper walks

worry,
for the ripper stalks

worry,
for the ripper is near
worry

yes,
worry and fear.

Night, his home as he seeks
the next high
A whispered crunch on gravel, a hushed
footfall gavel sentencing death for her
within

his thoughts,
macabre sinister deeds,
black as pierced eyes,
delight at her tortured cries

"no more"
her screams raw,
real,
his to steal and treasure,
like the piece of her he'll take,
maybe a nipple this time.

small rustle, from stealthy
movement causes curtains
to shift
in pitch black.
he creeps,
a human cockroach,
coddling corruption,
floor boards creak,
he
pauses
breathless in waiting,
in here he seeks......
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:44 PM   #6
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#6 : Magnetron

As Twilight Feeds on Meyers Street

Stephanie inhaled the crisp atmosphere
as evening's Twilight canvassed the neighborhood
enveloping her house at the end of block
like a fictional shrouded vampire descending
exsanguinating the brilliant hues from the parkway trees
whose dying leaves let of their blood
were drying in the Autumn breeze
on mingling branches hanging over Meyers Street
forming a darkened canopy that on occasion
was even cause enough in itself for the bravest
and boldest hooligan walking underneath to
shudder

Sitting in the bedroom window
left leg lazily hanging out the sill
if not for a pair of white cotton panties
and auburn curls draped over her bare breasts
she was almost nude

Waiting

Serene was this scene of daring to be seen
for the silent marauder to claim her body
taking her soul merely along for the ride
swaddled up its non corporeal cloak
to plant a loving bite upon her neck's nape
before whisking her off and away through the chill
to the neglected overgrown graveyard
just a hopscotch skip and a jump beyond the mobile home park
attended nightly by White Trash trailer park girls much like herself
often sacrificing their daily born again virgin statures
not so much like herself
on a ritualistic basis

Unfortunately,

She remained unseen in her bedroom window
not even witnessed in her half naked glory
by any of the neighborhood boys
who rarely afforded her more than casual glances anyway
during the daylight hours

She could not help but fancy notions
in the final fleetings of sunburst
that her life was a book of which she had no hand in writing
a novel that if made into a movie
the juicy details would be edited out
scenes involving sex starved teens shedding their clothes
and inhibitions before the camera
such gratuitous depictions of nudity
that always fail to enhance the plot
yet nonetheless are somehow considered somewhat crucial prior
to the onscreen entrance of the escaped mental patient
as he tightens his grip on the handle of a butcher knife
or perhaps a straight razor

Desperation to be loved
to feel wanted
appreciated
even if only for her body

now entwined with the desire
to be bent over a marble headstone
and ravaged for the very first time
by a stranger in the Twilight
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:44 PM   #7
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#7 : Angeline

Pyewacket Girl

You can be her familiar,
but don’t get too close.

She winds her way
in furry limber slink through
alleyway & cityscape, sleek
October nights that linger
low on yellow smoke and mist
amid the pavements.

Dawn and grey chill rushes in
to crisp pink lady days
of orange and unlimited
blue until the Moon comes
full, rising on the sap
of your desire for her
witchy business.

Back again in peeping feline
eye she shifts the stars the night
sky twirls, she stretches lean
to soft one paw in delicate
extension

then slips past metal pails
to find you, rub your ankle,
lick your chest. Now tell me
you’re not charmed.

Hoo possesses hoom?
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:45 PM   #8
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#8 : Harry Hill

Samhain Barbeque

The wind through the tree's
creeping in with the fog,
whispered first to moon,
there in the south, so quietly,
presiding high in the sky,
benign above the world below
watching the gathering gloom

'Fair night to you, Mistress Moon,
on this All Hallows eve,
and if you're not terribly busy
I've a boon to ask of thee,
prithee,
give me some fat burning meat,
smoke rising up from old stone,
red with blood fresh spilt
to feed the spirits I breed,
deep in spider webbed limbs of trees,
such a little thing you see.'

Luna was intrigued, and a little pissy,
it being that time of month and she,
bloated, feeling evil,
wondering how the wind was faring
with its cottage industry,
besides, it appealed to her dark side,
busy telling Aquarius how times had changed
and man had no time for us now that science
took all the mystery from heavenly bodies,
so...

The moon shone bright,
its milky white light,
gleamed on a dagger of bone,
haft forged from coffin nails,
honed on an ancient tomb stone
held high aloft a circle of shadows,
chanting a message from hell,
a scream came from the sacrifice
as the knife rose and fell,
flames roared and smoke rolled,
in the night a bell tolled,
lost in the howl of the wind.

Aquarius cried for the loss of a life,
faux tears that quickly dried,
happy spirits gorged on the feast,
supper out was always a treat,
wind sighed and ran away,
back to its home in the trees,
the old yellow moon was silently pleased,
all had turned out so well,
just the sacrifice disagreed
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:45 PM   #9
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#9 : butters

and the cat came back

how he hates these foggy nights
when moonlight, gagged
by wads of cloud,
spares only light enough to spur
dark imagination...

long days gone by
johnny's all grown
and the well's boarded over
but on nights like these
when sleep drags down his lids
he dreams of soft footfalls
the rank smell of disturbed old water
and something
something more rotten
meat's sodden weight
the cold slug-drag of fur across his frozen face
the corpse-touch of decay
the settling of dead weight
on his chest, his crossed arms
and worse yet
that foetid, gurgling purr
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:45 PM   #10
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#10 : Magnetron

It's Halloween!

Spooky cobwebbed windows
and goblins green
My favorite day has arrived

It's Halloween!

Oooh, I better hurry
Children already on the streets
frolicking in their costumes
begging for candy sweets

Time to wait for them
at the door!

ding dong ding dong

Trick or Treat!
Smell my feet!
Give me something good to eat!


You look rather scrumptious
How about I eat you instead?
I've been having a craving
for some decapitated head!

chomp
gulp
slam! shuts the door

ding dong ding dong

Trick or Treat!
Mister, what are you eating?
That looks like raw meat!


Not just any raw meat ...
... it's little Bobby
And eating frightened children
is my favorite hobby!

chomp
gulp
slam! shuts the door

ding dong ding dong

Trick or Treat!
I like your costume
It's really neat!


Why thank you, 'lil Missy
And I myself must confess;
your costume is to die for!
Such a lovely fairy princess!

chomp
gulp
slam! shuts the door

One night every year
It's like an all-you-can-eat-buffet
And from this day forward
I won't have it any other way

This is so much better
than living in cellars and under beds
or making noises from darkened closets
putting scares into their silly heads

Oooh
I think I hear more footsteps
at the door!

Spooky cobwebbed windows
and goblins green
It's my favorite day of the year

Halloween!
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Old 10-23-2015, 05:46 PM   #11
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#11 : Seanathon

Sweet Treats

Beware if you walk past the woods tonight
a sinister thing that won’t be denied
is lurking there with visage pale and blank
and arms abnormally long, lean and lank

The old tailcoat it wears is frayed and black
your nose starts to bleed but you don't turn back
or notice when it stirs from those shadows
on this forlorn eve we call All Hallows

You wanted just one more treat for your bag
and pressed on when the rest began to lag
a tap on your shoulder, a kindly face,
insisting you just passed the perfect place

A little old house lies beyond the trees
as you step through the door with shaking knees
you snatch sweet treats from an old broken bowl
and whisper it's late and you have to go

Your face goes pale as you hear the thing say
My dear sweet child, now you are here to stay
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Old 10-23-2015, 07:22 PM   #12
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#12 : greenmountaineer

Breakfast in Plato's Café

Mommy who's got a wart on her nose
that looks like a soggy Cheerio
asks Peg, the waitress at Plato's Café,
for another pot of witch's tea
and cup of hot cocoa for Princess Kate
who just couldn't wait for Halloween
to wear her happily after
costume that comes with a magic wand.

Mine comes with a riot baton,
a horse's ass carrying keys
or hack, i.e., whenever one speaks
Con at the jailhouse down the street
where lights out means my flashlight shines
every hour on shadows at night
that toss and turn on concrete walls
until I turn their sun back on,

but suddenly here comes the other one
that shines on Plato's short order wall
Princess Kate's shadow that's waving her wand
over a bowl of Cheerios,
and as Peg pours coffee it dawns on me
the trick is in knowing what is the treat.
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Old 10-24-2015, 12:03 PM   #13
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#13 : Ashesh9

Autumnal disco dandia.....

ranga theley ......naacho re Garba ....
it's late October .....& we're sweatin' buckets ...
Global Warmin' has screwed up Weather patterns ....
click ......click ....click
goes the Dandia stick .....
with the Goddess invoked on the pedestal
Her grace on all .....big or small
I watch the dance listlessly o the huge CCTV screen
suddenly i'm alive ...with jealousy I could be green !
one lady
is dancin'
in savage frenzy .......
'twas as if her Kundalini
had awakened & was shootin'
up shushumna nadi ....
throwin' off conventions
inhibitions......
frustrations.......
this enchained demure
erstwhile docile hausfrau
suddenly seems full of wild Mojo
untamed Feminine Fury....
at her chains ....
the daily insults .....
now she in glee....
eerily exults ......
throwing' aside
the others watch in ...
amazement
cruel dominating mother-in -law
astounded : her pet kitten
has morphed into a
roaring Tigress ...
her sneering Husband
within minutes turned
into a nervous wreck !!
she leaps....
jumps .....
whoops ....
the sage male chauvinists
are quickly droppin' to their knees
in supplicashun'....
subjugashun' .......
submishun'.....
abject surrender .....
it's a Spiritual Role Reversal
head to the ground ...
male
or
female
hubby
or Ma-in-law
all worship the Goddess
whom they firmly believe
has entered the beaten
humiliated , underfed , abused
body of this frail thing ......
never will the husband
dare raise his hand
on this dainty wisp of a woman
neither will the Mother-in -law
ever raise her voice or eyes to look
at the New Goddess
for these superstitious simple folk
male dominated though they be
are strictly held in iron chains by folklore
to the Goddess bound
as bond slaves for centuries
now the others ....be it neighbor
relative or spouse....
will be unashamed slaves
of this ...New Mistress
Monarch of all She surveys ....
it happened one night
in front of my very eyes
while the Dandia beats on ......
& on ......& on..........
no more humiliashun' :
now Total Liberashun' !
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Old 10-24-2015, 01:52 PM   #14
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#14 : Magnetron

Stiffed

One too many brew imbued
drunk out of their gourds
again
sisters Abigail and Beulah
two of the craziest women
I ever knew

... though I could never tell
which witch was which
them being twins and all ...

were unhitched
un-glued
lascivious
lewdly prancing butt nekkid
and dancing bare breasted
through the glorious hues of Fall
coloring farmer Johnson's patches
his pastures and lots
not a single stitch of clothing betwixt either
as one inappropriately squeezes melons
each juice laden fruit fondle tested
for splendid balance of firmness and ripeness
while the other deftly snatches up in fingers
the delicate curling stems of pumpkins
sending shivers all the way back to the root

both snort snickering over zucchini squash
held up like crude dildos to the bushy thatches
covening their twats

I can't help but be impossibly stiff as they pass by
without so much as a glance in my direction
despite my complete and unabashed erection
and the fact that I'm not wearing any pants


Then again ...

... what scarecrow wouldn't be?
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Old 10-24-2015, 01:55 PM   #15
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#15 : Piscator

Reallife

Panic in Trollhättan
but nothing to do
with bridges.
Just a man in black wearing
a mask and helmet
with a sword
in a school.

While, in the Middle East
a desert war, where
no one is wrong
and all
have God
on their side,
threatens Agamemnon

Here in Mexico, an ill wind
is creating havoc,
waves crashing on shore
with a hard rain comin’
and I wonder weather
my flight down
and car are
to blame.

But when I get back home and
dress in my zombie costume
for All Hallows Eve
I’ll be really scary.
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Old 10-24-2015, 01:58 PM   #16
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#16 : : GuiltyPleasure aka Tristesse2

Halloween Limerick

small terrorists menace the ‘hood
for candy it’s understood
they ring my doorbell
the creatures from hell
it’s difficult not to be rude.

they’re demanding a treat or a trick
and sometimes you have to be quick
for they soap up your car
or something bizarre
it’s as if they’re possessed by Old Nick.

their parents stand guard on the road
perusing my humble abode
I well know, by thunder!
they’ll check out the plunder
and give thanks for the candies bestowed.

but I know it’s all in good fun
so that when all the excitement is done
I’ll store any sweets
and un-gathered treats
and save them for me, number one.
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Old 10-24-2015, 02:21 PM   #17
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#17 : Magnetron

They Met in Granola Bars

Franken Berry and Count Chocula
were found together
stabbed repeatedly with a metallic claw
while spooning in the raw
during a motel rendezvous

Then
Apple Jacks was discovered floating
face down in the bowl
bleeding apple juice

So
If I was either
Snap, Crackle or Pop
I'd be careful cause

there's a cereal killer on the loose
and I don't think he'll stop
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Old 10-25-2015, 08:30 AM   #18
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#18 : butters

when every night is halloween

your lips are wary
every word
eggshell in your mouth
every thought
untrustworthy
every action a risk
never knowing the rules
of trick or treat
especially
when treats are tricks

as his storm creates havoc
suspend all thought
stillness in a pinpoint
expand the gaps between your cells
let his rage pass through you
missing vital organs
no fight or flight
just the instinct to survive
endure
the only way you know

years on
you'll understand
your own anger scared you more
for all its bloody possibilities
had you cut it loose
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Old 10-25-2015, 08:31 AM   #19
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#19 : champagne1982

All Saint's Eve

Light shifts from midnight to black
betrays motion across the sill
and stirs the gauzy curtains
inward, away from the clawed
fingers of the birch in the yard

Fallen leaves skitter their path
over asphalt shingles touched in frost
painted on the edges by moonlight
brushed with a much whiter shade
of cold and promise of memory's kiss

And haunted dreams speak of waiting
specters laid out on the bed in eternal
repose deep in slumber that belies death.
Wind wakes the ghosts and starts Pan' pipes
in lively reel inviting all to spin a shroud

All that's left is to stop breathing
to join this dance that needs one more
reveler to bring the ancient lord inside
their circle of bones and blood and spin
a magic that flies the hallows free of earth.
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Old 10-25-2015, 08:34 AM   #20
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#20 : greenmountaineer

From the Forest of the Triple Goddess

We wisely are not part of their world,
we who have loved too greatly,
since the Word became pontifical
after the Plague commenced, my Sisters,
and we knew then cottages would be burned
as they look for goats like Leviticus,
such as the wet nurse Demoiselle Agnes,
who after the infant became defunct,
had to flee from the manor,
accused of La Dance Macabre.

And withal we have learned the bishop
has offered the men of the village
each a partial indulgence
and twenty drams of his brandy,
should her remains be found in les Alpes
by way of turnshoes or amulets.

Still, they meet with us secretly,
some estranged husbands, others that would be
lovers who build us fires;
we make them soup in our cauldrons
from onions, thyme, and mushrooms,
and we know what sweet words to whisper
after honey and red currents
to make their summer appear again.

November is fast approaching, Sisters.
Why venerate dead saints may I ask
when we should be visiting door to door
for soul cakes given to children
from pantries as full as the harvest moon,
the cows and pigs still growing fat
while a husband's soul is taking rest.

Oh, for the day we no longer need
manor or papacy for proper feeding
when we will dance all night in the village
to celebrate the passing of seasons,
and our men with their tankards of ale
will prance in animal skins for their women,
costumed in rags otherwise destined
for dusting or washing of little faces.

Tonight, therewith, we would be at the stake
stripped of our rags soon to be shrouds
as they search our breasts surreptitiously
for faux signs of the Triple Goddess
as if we were the pagans in Rome
who hung their St. Peter upside down
when in the beginning their Word was Love,
and Caesar began his circus with stone.
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Old 10-25-2015, 08:39 AM   #21
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#21 : Harry Hill

Nota Sonnet

For thirty years it lay in the earth
thirty years of decomposition
now dirty moonlight calls to the bone
rise up and take your rightful revenge

earth moved in the cold dirty moonlight
the rot of the dead perfumed the night
a fathers murdered son stood upright
a corpse stumbled to town to take life

The moral of this tale is writ here
and spelt in blood on burnt tavern walls
dice is not a game to mix with beer
lost wagers need not heed rages call

dirty moonlight calls now to the bone
return you to your cold earthly home
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Old 10-25-2015, 01:19 PM   #22
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#22 AlwaysHungry

A Gothic Sonnet

The darkness grows. Perhaps it will consume
What little day is left, as time speeds on
To some strange assignation, whereupon
The world will find its purpose, or its doom.
To me it matters naught. My only care
Is for the one I know I must possess,
The one whom I shall carnally caress
No matter what perdition I must dare.
For you, my love, I'd choose that endless fall,
(My special one, whose blood I chose to taste,
Not to extend my life, but in my haste
To share a "little death".) I'd sell it all,
No thought for what affliction may ensue.
What pact would I not make for more of you?
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Old 10-25-2015, 02:49 PM   #23
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#23 : Magnetron

El Bautizar Del Indeseado

Pregnant
she opted for sanctuary from the heat;
air conditioning in the rusted Eldorado
with Texas plates having failed
ninety miles ago on Route 31
south of the Mexico border

She found respite from the sun
in a quaint little church despite
finding a mechanic was in order
instead resting with feet up
head back
in the last row of warped benches
cobbled together from discarded birch

Exhausted she was in the flight
nameless demon constantly at her heels
like the archetypical childhood nightmare
we seemingly have difficulty waking from
incapable of outrunning subconscious primevils
rapidly closing the distance;

how quicksand feels

A couple of perspiring altar boys
humming hymns to themselves
swept the floor across the way
paying her little attention
eager to complete the chore
to join revelers out in the street

Noisy the celebration was
permeating the stucco walls
the music and laughter

The Day of the Dead

Wishing for peace of mind
she drifted into a heavy sleep
submerged in silence except for
their?
voices that lingered after to keep
reminding her of choices

chanting
in such a low murmer
that she couldn't make out
a single word ...

... but the more she strained
carefully listened
the more she swore
she heard them saying
over and over again was

hatred

Consciousness returned to her throbbing head
Hatred
Hatred

Paralysis faded from where her body was lying
Is that what those voices were crying?

In a tone most ominous and twisted
Hatred
Hatred

Panic consuming her in a stampeding wave
Realization kicking in -
she was someone's slave!

Ankles restrained
feeling heavier than lead
Hatred
Hatred

Tethers cutting tightly into tender wrists
In anger she clenched her trembling fists

Bench replaced with a gritty stone slab
Fastened to it with bondage ties
Vision greeted by silken darkness
Black velvet draping her wide panicked eyes

The cruelest of jokes ever to be played
Her body chilled to the bone ice sculpture cold

Upon noticing dark figures through the fabric
circling all about her?

Real terror began to unfold

Calloused fingers ripped away the veil
She let forth a bloodcurdling scream
The pretty flowered sundress she wore
now stained with blood from hem to seam

In the cavern surrounding the makeshfit bed
Hatred
Hatred

Cloaked figures continuing to chant
in flickering oil lamplight
around a miniature human being ...

... a lifeless infant

Witness to what should be forever left unsaid
Hatred!
Hatred!

The fragile thing hand dipped into a bloody bath
filled to the rim with cesarean aftermath

HATRED!
HATRED!

Witness the Christening of the Unwanted!
declared a hooded man of Spanish descent
over the unborn she for so many months despaired

She wailed
shrieked
writhed
moaned

None paid her any attention
filing out of the cave of chaos
one by one without a single mention
she was abandoned to bleed out
mere feet away from her aborted child

and the more she forced herself to look upon
the remains of what would have been her son

the more she saw it smiled

No deceptive trick of the light
as red orbs emerged
blinking within the fetal alien head

Grimacing lips parted
a snarling voice gurgled,
I am your son, El Dread!

Mommacita
won't you please love me?

the creature blurted amidst hideous laughter
I am yours until your dying day
and I will haunt you forever after!


She stopped just short of breathing
lunging upright from where
she had dozed off in the church

Across the room
the altar boys watching her scramble to her feet
racing out the door into the night

Bewildered
they shrug to themselves
continuing to broom the floor

Behind the wheel of the rusty Eldorado
HATRED
HATRED

Foot firmly on the gas pedal as she sped
HATRED
HATRED

Couldn't clear her mind of the overwhelming
HATRED
HATRED

Shouting voices in every corner of her head
HATRED
HATRED

All that she felt for the thing from her belly was
HATRED
HATRED

For the child that she never ever wanted
HATRED
HATRED

And from out of nowhere
came a Peterbilt truck
smashing the side of the car in

She woke up from the blackout
caused by numerous Tequila shots
back to the hardwood floor
in a west Texas honkeytonk bar

the same cattleman drunk on gin
still urging her to join him
in the backseat of his Eldorado

She shoved him into a crowded table
stumbling for the nearest exit
amidst tears crying out
El Bautizar Del Indeseado!

A couple of sweating cowboys
glanced her way in puzzlement
elder shrugging to the younger
before rattling the juke box further
hoping that damn scratched up record
that relentlessly skipped
would be replaced with another
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Old 10-25-2015, 03:43 PM   #24
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#24 : Harry Hill

Bear

Oh this hush that brings the world to Beare
on Deavon's green, far past the lens that turned
brought this focused moment in time
lost for definition...

bring the world to bare
well that's all fine for the summer months
but even with global warming
just thinking about those goose fleshed bits
alarming!

bear with me as i attempt this explanation
for this missive seeks eventual fruitation
grasps the barre, pirouettes...

This is the story of the Halloween Bear
trick or treaters shaved off his hair
bare bear, get it? beware, he's cold
and angry
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Old 10-25-2015, 07:18 PM   #25
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#25 : butters

All Hallows Eve

A mourning sky, bruised with memories, obscures day's star; night's pale rider is also lost to view, lamed by sky's ulcerous grief:

She moves as through a dream, in languid air;
no breath disturbs her frame, no harvest bee;
dull water seeps from soil where e're she treads
and from the sickly foxglove moisture drips.

October pulls once more from this drear place,
the sallow grasses sour, now, and prone;
alone, for none remain to call her name
nor brush the lichen from the lonely slab.

She drifts beneath the trees in ever-sleep
and yellow leaves fall, soft, as poplars weep.
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