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
Iâll be a queen
On Halloween
Oh thatâs just mean
Did she declare
How dare you try
To be so high
And mighty
Youâre a witch
You b*itch
Go scratch your
Head and
Think
Again
Queens are not scary
Or are they??
âOff with your headâ
She screamed at her
âYour head will rollâ
She raged at the troll
Oh me oh my
She makes me cry
Iâd 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 itâs a win-win
Awful phantasms
Ruining the coal-minerâs orgasms
Terrible, ghastly ruins
Deadly, doleful tunes
This is the season of rust
And donât you dare say, âpsst!â
Youâll 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 Halloweâen?
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 wonât come
if the house is on fire
unless theyâre as stupid
as an old flat tire.
Fake skeletons dangle
from the dead oak trees
Oneâs leg is on backwards
and his headâs stuck to his knee
Sometimes directions
are too hard to read.
Oâ what shall I be
for Hallowâen?
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 Iâm 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 â A Protest
by Deb Whittam
Iâm an Australian
The shops are full of chocolate treats
Designed to guilt trip me
Into participating in an event
That is for another county
Iâm an Australian
The internet is obsessing
Over a tradition that
Means nothing to me
Canât get away from it, canât be free
Iâm an Australian
Kids will be knocking on my door
Yelling trick or treat
I tell them to emigrate
I just donât care you see
Iâm an Australia
Why should I be involved in this farce?
Iâd 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 âThis is Halloweenâ)
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 theyâll survive the fright
Round that corner is their toddler of two
Wondering if he can fit more jelly into momâs 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 mothersâ 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
© 2017 r leach
—–
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
itâs a dead manâs 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-
âsalute!â all hallows eveâŠ..
—–
Untitled piece
by Gary
The moon is full
Itâs 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.

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