Skarla Skeleton

October 31, 2020October 31, 2020Chel Owens 55 Comments

Skarla pulled her covers up,
A mask over her head.
Her mummy came with steaming cup
And asked, “Why haunt your bed?”

“Oh, Mum! The kids say, ‘SKELETON!’
“They run away in fear.”
Her mummy groaned. “Aww, that’s no fun.
“They just don’t know you, Dear.”

And then, they heard a creepy gong;
Some kids were at their door.
Skar dried her tears; Mum came along,
Bones clunking on the floor.

Skarla’s friends said, “Trick or treat!”
And, “Skar! Where have you been?”
Smiling, Skarla donned a sheet
And went out, with her friends.

Written for Susannah Leonard Hill’s Halloweensie Contest.

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/30/2020

October 30, 2020November 7, 2020Chel Owens 11 Comments

In honor of Halloween (sort-of), poets needed to amuse us with verses about masks! Who did so in the funniest way?

Masquerade, by Sara of Relaxitsallwrite
All I had to go on were his eyes

Hazel, hypnotic, alluring

They summoned me from across the ballroom

He had only my eyes as well

Ice-blue, and intrigued

I maneuvered my voluptuous gown through the crowd

And met him, mask to mask

While mine encompassed the beautiful butterfly I desired to be

With stunning wings, wide-spread across my cheeks

His was a bit silly, like a court jester

With speckles, peppering a long, triangular nose

I struggled to avoid it as we danced

And dance we did

Then, he tried to kiss me, but his nose got in the way

I grew frustrated

I wanted to sink into his lips, like a butterfly drinking from a tulip

So gently, I removed his disguise and leaned in

But was immediately put off

When I realized his nose was the same shape as his mask

Congratulations, Sara! You are the funniest poet for the week! I admired your rhyme, but laughed after the great buildup to a reveal no one wants upon first meeting!

Although only one could win first place, I loved the others as well:

The Masque of the Covid Death (With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe), by Trent P. McDonald
As midnight tolled the fateful hour
A new guest appeared
Amongst the revelers
Rheumy eyes
Stared from the mask
A cough shook the frame
Prospero, angry yelled
“Halt, false fellow
For we do not
Like your Covid-like mask
Who are you
To be so bold?
Show yourself!”
The guest
Dressed as the very victim of the plague
Walked from room to room
None dared bar his way
He stopped in room Seven
The room of Black and White
Prospero raised his AR-15 rifle
“Unmask yourself now!”
But when the guest turned
Prospero fell in a coughing fit
The other guests
In their madness
Tore the mask from the new guest
To their horror
An N95 was beneath
And then they knew
There was no escape
And Darkness and Decay and the Covid Death
Held illimitable dominion over all.
(OK, the last line was borrowed from Poe, about word for word 😉 )

Untitled, by DumbestBlogger
What’s behind the mask?
Stop it, not so fast!
Wait, what’s in the cask?
Poison? Poison you say?
Too bad
If only he had been more vigilant about his mask
He wouldn’t have drunk from the cask
Oh well
Time for the coroner’s task

De-masked, by Bruce
I have no idea
why you feel the need to wear
that fabric mask with style.
You’re so naturally ugly from ear to ear
that Covid19 cowers in fear
and droplets run a mile.

Night Of The Giving Dread, by Obbverse
We’re fast approaching October thirty-first
When once again good folk shall be cursed
By that gnawing feeling of impending dread
As the spirit of Gluttony raises its ugly head.

‘Twill be the night of Halloween
When every pre-adolescent ‘tween
Unbidden, comes a’rappin’ at your door,
That ain’t the kinda rap you can ignore.

They’ll demand a trick or treat,
The trick is- give ’em all they can eat,
Dole out them candies from the bowl,
Better being poor than have an empty soul.

Dish it out and don’t dare ask
What sweet child’s hiding ‘neath that mask?
Just kindly smile while putting on your happy face
A’praying the overladen urchins don’t egg your place.

Prompt at midnight, switch off the porch light-
Witching hour is done, Children Of The Night –
All pure but poor souls, sit back and enjoy the hush,
Soon ’nuff you’ll hear some kids full-on sugar ru- flush.

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
C’mon my chums, don’t be shy
Don’t you want to take a peek?
C’mon give it a try,
It could be the start,
Of your winning streak.

Five quid to look behind,
The Mask and try your luck.
Five quid for a quick glance,
C’mon fellows,
I promise you won’t barf.

It could be an angel,
Of delight and arouse your passion,
It could be a mad man,
With a very loud voice,
In need of a good thrashing.

Perhaps it’s your great Aunt,
Or, that cute girl down the street.
Perhaps it’s that annoying niece,
C’mon mates,
Don’t you want to compete?

Stand up lads,
It’s time to try your luck,
Five quid can’t be beat,
I’ll scream now when you turn green,
I promise we’ll have time to duck.

Time to be scared, by Gary
So many years and so many Halloween’s

Desperately trying to create a scary smokescreen

Always searching for the perfect Mask

The truly frightening one which is up to the task

I’ve tried them all but they end of just being lame

Freddy Kruger was just do ridiculously tame

Dracula and Frankenstein were as scary as the lovely Joan Hickson

Jason and Michael masks made me look like the unlovely Richard Nixon

But now I’ve seen the path to the perfect scary look

Maybe I should don a Chefs hat and carry a cookbook

Maybe I should dig out my old French Can-Can costume

Maybe a morning mirror photo of me from the bathroom

Actually there is a much simpler way for me to truly scare

Me just going unmasked is the perfect psychological warfare.

What’s behind the mask?, by sudrakarma
What’s behind the mask?
You might well ask,
but as well you might not want to know.

For I have as many
as needed, nigh twenty
to choose from to wear
for the daily show

But if you dare look beneath
that care-crafted sheath
to what’s hidden
deep, down below

You may fear what you find:
Though my smile is kind,
danger lurks in my Shadow

—–

Photo by Ariza Chrisananda on Pexels.com

A great BIG thanks to all those who entered! Come back around tomorrow at 10 a.m. for next week’s prompt.

Sara, here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/24 – 10/30/2020

October 24, 2020October 24, 2020Chel Owens 26 Comments

It’s the week before Halloween here in the United States! Let’s look to amuse with some boo’s!

Here are the spooky specifics:

Our Theme is What’s behind the mask? Did two socially-distanced first-daters face a nasty surprise? Perhaps the Phantom of the Opera revealed an embarrassing birthmark? You decide, and you write a poem about it!
Keep the Length manageable, at between 3 and 153 words.
Rhyme if your crystal ball tells you to, but don’t if it’s not in the cards.
There’s no need for tricks regarding Rating. You can scare your ~~victims~~ readers and keep things clean.
However you choose to cast your spell, my dear, ensure your Halloween brew is brimming with humor.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 30) to submit a poem.

Use the magic form, below, to remain anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, include your spellbook poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment or conjuring crystal if your link-back doesn’t show up by midnight of when you cast it.

—–

Happy haunting!

—–

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

November 1, 2019November 1, 2019Chel Owens 17 Comments

My apologies, as always, for the delay. I had an astounding number of very scary entries to review this week, unsure of who might haunt me after I chose a winner…

And that winner is:

Halloween Queen

by Ruth Scribbles

I’ll be a queen
On Halloween
Oh that’s just mean
Did she declare
How dare you try
To be so high
And mighty
You’re a witch
You b*itch
Go scratch your
Head and
Think
Again
Queens are not scary

Or are they??
“Off with your head”
She screamed at her
“Your head will roll”
She raged at the troll
Oh me oh my
She makes me cry
I’d rather be a witch
Of course

—–

Congratulations, Ruth! You are the most terrible poet of the week!

While I had great (scary) fun reading all the marvelous (scary) entries, Ruth’s won for an overall effort of bad poetry. She missed the meter, missed the rhymes, and missed a coherent story arc. Well done!

I had many favorites who nearly won; see if you can get through them:

Resurrected for Halloween

by Bruce Goodman

Like a guy-rope swing eternally from a pendulum
With the fiery blast swelling, Superman sank
Into percussion of fiery anticipation
And landed with a plonk at the bottom of the hall.

Like a dreadnaught, it nosed its way, silently weeping,
And wished, well-wishing it had never left the ceiling.
Deep! Oh Deep down it thundered in the mall
Then landed with a plonk at the bottom of the hall.

—–

Untitled piece

by Nitin

Spooky nefarious ghosts
And their terrifyingly odd boasts
Blood, gore, grim and sin
But for them it’s a win-win
Awful phantasms
Ruining the coal-miner’s orgasms
Terrible, ghastly ruins
Deadly, doleful tunes
This is the season of rust
And don’t you dare say, ‘psst!’
You’ll find out why soon enough
When the one-eyed crone lets her dogs loose, ruff ruff

—–

Simplicity

by The Abject Muse

O, what shall I be

for Hallowe’en?

A monster, a princess

or a Lima bean?

With pumpkins carved

and burning bright

if one tips over

the porch will ignite.

Trick-or-treaters won’t come

if the house is on fire

unless they’re as stupid

as an old flat tire.

Fake skeletons dangle

from the dead oak trees

One’s leg is on backwards

and his head’s stuck to his knee

Sometimes directions

are too hard to read.

O’ what shall I be

for Hallow’en?

Probably something simple.

Like me.

—–

I Love You Lorena

by Matt Snyder

We met in jail, I a drunken serial cheater, she a thief

The night I said I do, I shook like a leaf

Earlier that day I slept with her sister

What can I say I’m that kind of Mister

It was our wedded day of dread when they threw the rice

I felt like I was skating on thin ice

That night things got kinky, she tied me to the bed

I lied there awhile lost in my head

I called out her name and got no response

Then she came back with her sister both spouting hateful taunts

I tried to break free, I was quaking in my socks

Her sister handed her a knife and with a devilish grin she cut off my…

—–

Why I hate Halloween – A Protest

by Deb Whittam

I’m an Australian
The shops are full of chocolate treats
Designed to guilt trip me
Into participating in an event
That is for another county

I’m an Australian
The internet is obsessing
Over a tradition that
Means nothing to me
Can’t get away from it, can’t be free

I’m an Australian
Kids will be knocking on my door
Yelling trick or treat
I tell them to emigrate
I just don’t care you see

I’m an Australia
Why should I be involved in this farce?
I’d rather the kids went out and exercised
Than shoving more junk in their gobs
To mimic a country
That does nothing for me.

—–

This is Childrening
(A terrible homage to the song “This is Halloween”)

by Peregrine Arc

Pumpkins, ghouls and spaghetti strands
Oh my lot loves doing handstands
With jellied fingers and muddied hands
I find their artwork all over this land
Come with me and you will see, in this land of Childrening

Mustard stains, broken glass
Footballs punted into the nightstand
Come with me and you will see
The reason for my punctual screams

This is Childrening, this is Childrening!
Everybody scream, everybody scream
In this land of Childrening

Parents cry in the Dead of night
Wondering how they’ll survive the fright
Round that corner is their toddler of two
Wondering if he can fit more jelly into mom’s shoes

This is Childrening, this is Childrening!
Everybody scream, everybody scream
In this land of Childrening.

—–

Bed

by Rogblog666

Bed, bed what have you under thee.
A reflection of my peculiar mind?
Or just a hidey hole for your scary bits,
Do you mirror me, do you parallel me?
Or are you my dark side?
Boo no just a dust bunny
Bed, bed what have you under thee,
Is it my mothers’ reflection?
Is it a portal from another dimension?
Is it a collection of your what ifs?
being seen from the planet regret.
Boo no just dust bunny
Bed, bed what have you under thee,
Am I just shadows of something lost,
Or just shadows of something to come,
Am I a shadow of something more solid,
Or just a shadow of your imagination.
BOO I am no shadow I am you, killer dust bunny

—–

The Vampire’s Night Out

by Joanne Fisher

There once was a hungry vampire

of fresh blood he could never tire

one night from his dark castle he flew

looking for a fair maiden that was new

until through a bedroom window he did see

a slumbering maiden who looked a beauty

so he crept into the room to have a bite

lucky for him she obviously had an early night

she was motionless and lying fast asleep

so right up to her he did silently creep

his fangs chomped down on her exposed neck

only to find the skin was hard, and his teeth now a wreck!

She was only a mannequin left lying in the room

he quickly left, flying in shock back to his tomb.

That experience left him feeling so pitiful

without his fangs, he now gets blood bags from the hospital.

—–

Dead Man’s Jamboree

by Violet Lentz

rattle me bones and shiver me timbers
it’s a dead man’s jamboree
from dusk till dawn
around the graves
a dancing they will be
a raspy throated woodwind howls
as drums are banged with bones
and out there in the mist somewhere-
another dead man moans
with but one night, the whole year thru
this gay thread to weave
they dance the jig, and tip the jug
in gleeful toast to moon above-
‘salute!’ all hallows eve…..

—–

Untitled piece

by Gary

The moon is full
It’s time for blood on the wool
Halloween terror
Your in the wrong place, a deadly error
Knifes sharpen
The atmosphere slowly darkens
The clock ticks
While the madman plays his tricks
This is sick
As bad as the worst horror flick
Witches potion
An unpredictable explosion
Straight from hell
Too horrific for Slasher Motel
Frankenstein creation
A Poltergeist apparition
Beyond X rated
The result is pure evil hatred
All hope is forsake
Dads been trying to bake a SPONGE CAKE

—–

Definitely scary! Thank you all for the frights, and come back tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

neonbrand-ASNSoeead70-unsplash

Ruth: D. Wallace Peach created this graphic that you can use (if you want) for a badge of honor as the winner:

The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

October 26, 2019October 26, 2019Chel Owens 38 Comments

Come here, my poet, and prepare to enter the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest #49! You’ll find a basic outline on terrible poeting here. Ready?

Here are the specifics for this week:

Our Topic is Halloween. Write something SCARY!
As is usual, the Length is up to you.
Rhyming is also up to you. Frighten us with what you do.
Just Make it terrible! Make the very souls of the Wal-mart imps moan in agony and terror at the thought of your verses.
The Rating’s fine at PG-13 or cleaner.

You have till midnight of All Hallow’s Eve, 12:00 a.m. MST next Friday morning (November 1) to submit a poem.

Use the form below to be anonymous for a week.

For a more social experience and immediate fame, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. If you do not see a pingback within a day, drop a comment as well.

Roll up your casting sleeves, and have fun!