Category Archives: 30 Days of Halloween Poem Challenge

Glady’s and the Bat – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge- Poem #30


Gladys

Glady’s and the Bat

Glady’s was an adventurous girl

prone to fits of dangerous

distraction.

A faired hair maiden.

Fair of mind as well, a simple girl.

but strong of will.

And will it seems, goes a long way in the land of scary make believe.

as you will see.

For a creature existed at the highest of heights

who dwelt in a dark,  dark cave of the evilest intent and might

 At night this foul creature swooped and dove, and dove and swooped

into the quaint little village where Glady’s did dwell,

Shrieking as it flew, it  carried off poor villagers from out of their beds.

The town had dwindled down next to nothing under it’s

never ending onslaught of nightly terror and dread.

Left now, were only Glady’s, the ice cream maker,

the pastor, and poor old widow Lady Albright

to be found in the town at next sundown.

“I shall face this demon,” Gladys told the others calmly.

“Very well, do what you must, but leave us be,” Lady Albright intoned.

“Oh, simple child,” the ice cream maker only said.

“I give you my protection,” the pastor simply said,  as he looked to the heavens.

Gladys boldly walked into the square at twilight while the others peeked

at her from the safety of their bedrooms.

Sweaty palms held tight to her late father’s sword,

now rusted and pitted but still sharp and keen of edge.

A flutter of wings sounded in the distant as

a dark shadow descended.

A flit of nothing flew over Gladys and beyond her.

A  crash of glass, and a scream ripped the night as

poor Lady Abright was plucked from bed and covers.

Her tortuous wail faded into the dark clouds as

the creature escaped back to its lair.

“We must go after her!” Gladys told the others

“Are you daft dear girl, we would surely die!” the cream maker wailed.

“Her fate was already written I am afraid.” said the pastor knowingly

Looking to them both, her eyes narrowed in quiet consternation.

Then an  AHA! moment entered her wee brain.

“Next time he comes I have a plan,” she said quietly.

The moon fell and the sun rose and then the moon rose

again as the next night came.

“I don’t see how this will help, we shall all surely die.

I am the most important can’t you see?  ” the pastor intoned.

They all stood clutching  each other  together tied tight with rough braided

rope at the waist in the middle of the street,

“Are you not assured of your safety through your piety? What’s there

to fear for you?” she smiled slyly.

The ice cream maker shook in his place and simply held tight to his

tub of cream that he had been told to bring.

A shriek preceded it’s shadow as it decended.

Talons clutched and pulled, grabbing the pastor

Yet the pastor did not budge, the weight being too great.

“Hold, monster!” Glady’s  yelled.

“Is it blood you seek? I have something sweeter,”

Glady’s grabbed the tub of cream, popped the top

and plunged her hand in deep.

She then  slathered the good pastor from head to

toe.

“Go ahead have a bite”  Gladys said

The creature landed,

Black fur, big ears,  wings ending in talons,

Teeth white, sharp and long,

Eyes wide and mad approached on spindly legs.

It looked at them each, and slowly full in the eye.

“Sweeeeeeeeeeeet!” it said sniffing the air.

Then bit into the pastor deep.

The pastor squeaked then died.

The dark bat licked the dead pastor clean.

“Mooooore!” it simply said

So Gladys gave him more.

And more, and more.

Now her and the creamer

share a house and keep the cream

well stocked.

As her and her pet bat go

on many a midnight walk.

by Philip Wardlow

Creepy – 30day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #29


Creepy –

I bet I can creep you out in some small way…:)

What exactly are you scared of?

You  sitting there, looking at your screen reading this.

A thousand things in nature  perhaps may be  just around

the corner. Waiting to meet you.

Be it man, an animal, a deformed creature or the unholiest of holies

in the night.

Some DO exist,  and  some may exist. You don’t really know for sure if they don’t.

It’s a big creepy world out there with big creepy things in it.

Do you need to go to the bathroom? Have a sit on the toilet.

Try not to look down and imagine something slowly crawling through the pipe

into your business. Is that the sound of very small teeth?

What’s your number? And is it up tonight?

You can probably say no. BUT you could be dead before the morn.

Singled out by that leery eyed little man down the street,

that’s taken a fancy to those beautiful feet.

He must have them for his collection you know…he must.

Oh, you’re at a party amongst your closest friends?

So you’re safe…sure, sure, no worries. He’ll wait.

Check your car, check your closet,  check under the bed.

that’s where I would hide If I wanted you dead.

What’s that tickle in your throat?

What’s that rumble in your belly?

Something kicking and crawling to get out?

Now how did that find it’s way in? Perhaps through

your belly button.

Well after all, it is Halloween my friend.Creepy

by Philip Wardlow

Stingy Jack – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #28


Stingy_Jack_by_Phenylketonurics

Good Old Jack,

walks in the twilight between our world and what you would

call the other.

Into the out of, on paths that only he can see

with Fool’s Fire held in a hand-carved gourd to light his way.

A Ne’er-do-well if ever their was.

Cursed to wander the earth.

Never to know heaven or hell.

You may see his spook light bob in a graveyard or two as you pass,

especially on All Hallows Eve and on through to all Souls Day.

Wise men say, Old Jack’s looking for a way into heaven or hell

on such nights as these when the veil is thin.

If you see him, it’s best to keep on walking.

He has anger in him, a deep abiding bitterness swells.

like the ebb and flow of time that has trapped him.

He will have no hesitation to collect your soul should

you cross his path.

So beware or you may find yourself dead or a mindless

freak.

by Philip Wardlow

Life in Death – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge- Poem#27


SkeletonLight

Death appreciates life , just as life appreciates death.

Both are impartial to the other.

A cold touch caresses the

beauty which flits to and fro

with seemingly

chaotic intention.

How are we are to interpret the horrors of this vitality

when we ourselves are trapped in a purgatory

of our own design?

Perhaps a small light

shall lead the way for each of us

in our final hours as we lay

in our deep dark

grave.

By Philip Wardlow

Triad of Horror in Haikus – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #24,25,26


PasstheTorch
Blade of souls passes,
from old to young hands gladly
to cut future fates.
Blackcat
A friend to shadows.
Tracks of misfortune follow
feline on the prowl.
CreepyImage
I see you creeping,
Big eyes, sharp teeth, wicked smile
Waiting for a hug

Haunted House – 30 Day Halloween Challenge Poem #23


hauntedhouse

In my youth,

on a dare, I walked up  the crumbling steps to a dilapidated house.

Why?  Because I was bold, fearless, and a little

touched in the head.

I pushed at the door,

The hinges squealed like the tortuous squeals

of pain inflicted a hundredfold.

My two friends stood there in the front yard like tall petrified blades of grass,

looking on, probably wondering how far I would take their dare.

“Go inside,” they said “and say Trick-or-Treat.”

So I had went, to  the dark threshold  to the

mouth of a house, said to have seen murder and mayhem

many years hence.

Then I did cross to the inside.

All was quiet.

Darkness advanced through the windows as

the sun finally set behind the dead trees outside.

Tattered curtains fluttered as the wind flowed

through broken panes of glass.

I was sure time had slowed. I had entered another dimension,

stepped into the netherworld where only ghosts lived.

Yet I felt no fear…only a calm curiosity to see

what might happen next.

Footfalls fell upon the floorboards, almost

skipping as if in play.

A little girl’s laughter filled my ears

as my bag of candy was pulled from my grasp.

“Trick or Treat?”  I asked, already  knowing the

answer to my question was both.

She materialized before me, munching on

a piece candy  she had found in my bag.

I watched, mesmerized as I saw the contents of

the candy go down her throat  through the opaqueness

that encompassed her form.

“No taste” she said sadly to no one.

Her eyes turned dark, reflecting a lonliness

compiled in a century of misery in this dank

forgotten home.

“Take this.” I said, handing her my sword and pirate hat.

“Happy Halloween, for tonight is your night…” I whispered.

She smiled a devlish grin and bowed, returning my

bag  of candy back to me.

“A treat indeed.” she said, laughing

and swinging her pirate sword,

lost in her world of make believe

as she slowly dissolved away.

I smiled a secret smile as I walked

down the steps to my friends,

and began to tell them of

my encounter they would

never really believe.

by Philip Wardlow

Witch Hunt- 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge Poem #22


WitchsBroomsticks

  .

Sister,  sister, you’re dead now. 
known as only ashes buried deep in a cold shallow
grave at the top of a lonely hill…
I saw you burn hotter than the sun, tied to a stake
worse than a dog was ever done.
Sister,  your shrieks still fill my ears from
that day, as they continued to pile on the wood to your funeral pyre.
I saw them laugh as the flames rose ever higher and higher.
I could only salt the earth with my tears for I was far too young.
Far too young  to save  a lighted soul such as yours being wronged.
My own darkened that day,
blacker than a shipbuilder’s pitch.
A witch you never were, but now
a witch I have become,
and tonight I hunt.
Hunt for the many ones,
and oh they will surely see a witch
tonight of the like they
have never seen.
By Philip Wardlow 2016

Killer Girlfriend- 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge Poem #21


Huntress

I knew the moment I spied you

that the devil lived behind those blues.

How long ago did you trap him, for

I see he’s itching to play.

It’s clear from our encounter,

your a girl who  can handle her boomstick

when it goes off with a kick.

Your grip on the gun is tight but loose as

silver bullets fill it, along with a gleam.

You smile that smile that I could die for as the

full moon rises, and

the day descends to glorious night.

My hand takes yours as we roam

the dank castle far beneath in the catacombs.

I’ll take the hammer,  you take the stake

as we take out a vampire or two on our first date.

When other monster’s wish to interlude upon

our first kiss your casual air and

sadistic flair with an axe

cannot be denied as the crimson droplets fly

in the midnight air….Oh, I think I’m in love!

Let’s not dawdle, let’s not hesitate in our fate.

For we have a rendezvous, me and you, and it involves

Frankenstein and the Wolfman’s  heads

on a plate.

by Philip Wardlow

.

30day Halloween Poem Challenge Poem#18, 19 , 20


DancingSkeletons
Skeleton Jig

They hold hands at night

and dance a little jig in the graveyard.

White as bone they say because that’s

all they are.

Skeletons gotta have just a bit of fun.

What would you do on Halloween if you were dead?

Do little a jig, make a little love…get down tonight.

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the_road_to
Road and the Darkness

I can’t say why the darkness consoles me.

No fear exists as shadows flow around

and enscroll my body

in etchings of lonliness

and comforting coldness

which is all I’ve ever known.

I shall walk this long  road in silent  solace and perhaps find my

answer in the ravens which

circle overhead.

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MasksStrobe
Slipping Mask

The negative of me is the mask that I remove

when no one is looking.

It slips on and off so easily.

I forget at times which one is in control.

Perhaps one day I shall show you that piece of me

But would you run away screaming?

Hellhounds – 30 Day Hallowen Challenge Poem #17


Demondogs

Hellhounds –

Known by many names,

Gwyllgi, the Dog of Darkness,

Black Schuck,  the Dog of Doom,

Dip, the little black hairy one who likes

to drink blood.

All hellhounds, demon dogs, omens of death

cast from the same malformed

misbegotten blackened molds.

An acrid, odorous smell precedes them,

brimstone wafts in their wake as they stalk

lost souls in the great hunt.

Paw prints burned into cold dead stone

give away their passage.

Eyes yellow of  burnished  bright gold.

or eyes of red, glowing like hot coals

Eyes that seek and search.

Be you the one?

Lost?

If so ,they shall drag you down and through

Hell’s doors where in your

new home you shall dwell

evermore.

By Philip Wardlow