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Coop Lee Oct 2014
the skull and spine of seventy seven men, extracted.
retribution far past putrefaction.
a pile of bones in the center of town, at the corner of washington
& rochambeau.
gather around.

           do you believe in the boogeyman?

a glitch in the darkness.
an echo of rage, high chroma bacteriophage.
every faithless father,
every sister spared,
every ritual sung just right, a brief blackout,
reconfigured pixels of outer night.

                     [bobby’s sega genesis awakens on its own]

thirty three years to the day, he
died on that suncrest boulevard, returned today just to say “hey.”

graveyard family tree and the moon.
first as a manifestation of electromagnetic phenomena
            in a videogame’s cpu. 1993.
second as a fully-fledged entity materialized via videocassette,
            hungry for pizza and pure vengeance. 2001.
third from beneath bedrock, the quarry belly baste,
            a body buried thrice, undead toxic tumescence,    
            a walking corpse heaving black plasma. 2020.

the sequel.
the son.
the spectral chosen one, he
rips out a throat or two, quite fashionably so,
a man about town throttled and disemboweled,
as friends and neighbors stumble and sprint to escape with their own godforsaken skin.
let the bone collection begin.
emerged in afterschool hallways to **** old classmates turned teachers.
emerged in afterhours offices to devour old buddies turned bankers.
emerged in the quiet dark homes of neighborhood flesh and folk.
blood soaked socks.

why? you ask, must all these people die?
vengeance?    no.
that was a lie.
he killed those people for a laugh
& that’s that.
The boogey man is not a man,
But a monstrous cavity in the minds of the men.
Black corners and shaded wardrobes,
What deamon, boggle, hobgoblin the bedstead-dark holds?

Eyes are sticked on the darkness,
Noble nowhere: the wide pupil is seeing far less,
While the truth is under your nose:
Thousand lies' eyes lie upon you that no one knows now.

Spiders? Rat snakes? What's hidden there?
No one knows and no one cares by-chance you barely dare;
It's you and your mind - your demons
Who barely care - its self-destruction deepens itself.

Dark room, wardrobe and under-bed;
Darkness dwells in none of among them, but in your head.
Empty-headed pics of crassness,
Made by no boogey, but an ignorant's recklessness.

Put away your holy water;
No need for illusive Jinn-conjurer Gin-tonics.
Darkness knows one weapon: homage;
Nightmares can be killed only through the light of knowledge.

Black corners and shaded wardrobes,
What morbid poison, what fearful drug your brain cells hold?
Embrace no torch, no crucifix;
The thirst of knowledge dries out every grim-naughty pics.
Have you ever looked into someone’s eyes and seen nothing?
No remorse, no pain, no sympathy, no anything. Just a vast ocean of emptiness.
A black hole, gaping, stretching straight to hell?

The back of your neck prickles, hairs stand up straight against your skin.
The air feels cold, your breath catching in your throat.

If you’ve ever come across a person such as that, I bet you prayed to god you’d never cross paths again.

What if I told you I see that every time I look in the mirror?
We are our own worst nightmare, everyone of us.

You can’t hide under the covers from the boogeyman if the boogeyman’s already in bed with you.
Sarah Steck Nov 2016
In the pitch black of night
Lights shine bright
Keeping the boogey man
In the corners
Where no one will see him.
One brave soul, though
Braces the unknown
Running through the dark alleys
In search of the scary demons of the night.
He lights fires in the endless sea
Of aimlessy floating things,
To see, in relief, that
Nothing was ever there.
That the boogey man in our dreams
Never left our mind to
Become the monster we
Imagine in the dark.
labyrinths Jul 2016
so I had this thought.
[You know me.]
isn't it weird when the lines start to blur?
[I was like you, too.]
do days turn into nights,
[Afraid of everything,]
or does dusk turn into dawn?
[Loud mind,]
are you really real?
[Quiet voice,]
or have I dreamt you up again?
[Baggy eyes,]

so i've been thinking.
[You never sleep.]
don't you think it's strange we're all dying?
[But you dream.]
is our time limited,
[Nightmares where;]
or is our limitation time?
[You scream,]
am I going to die soon?
[I scream,]
no, really, is my time almost up?
[We all scream,]

so I don't want to think.
[But there's only silence.]
but what if you could change it all?
[Your nightmares,]
what if you could go back in time,
[Your biggest fears,]
and fix all of your mistakes?
[Your reality.]
would you really do it?
[You can't stop me.]
or would you leave everything as is?
[You've become me.]
I'm really tired
Pavel Popov Jun 2016
He is a creature of the night
lives deep inside your closet
comes out after midnight
have you not heard the gossip?

he is coming for me
that's how the rumor has it
he is coming for you
so we both have to face it

we haven't been good
today we misbehaved
mom and dad are asleep
and we can't be saved

i won't let go of you, sister
i know that you are scared
they say he is so sinister
our lives won't be spared!

don't let go of my hand,
don't let go of me brother!
i got you, little sister
lets get under the cover

wait! do you hear that noise,
is it water drops from the faucet?
can you check under the bed,
are you sure you locked the closet?

-lets take turns sleeping
-i think that idea is good
we can't both fall asleep
-you go first, -no! you should!

there must be a way
we must find a way to cope
all that's left is a prayer
all we can do is hope...

wait, yes, i think i got it!
they both did it so quick!
little hands reached out,
the light switch went - click!
You hear scary growling under your bed?
It's not the Boogeyman, just the neighbor's German Shepard that wants dog treats.
And maybe a steak bone to go with it. Medium rare would be preferred
Jake Sullivan Oct 2015
I feel happy
but all I want to do is cry
like I just saw the boogeyman
lurking in between my jackets
and grinning with his
sharpened teeth

With a child on a chain
the name on his collar is
scratched, unreadable

When I peer from my sheets
all that remains across the room
filled with summer’s breath
I lose my own
He’s gone

The child remains,
back to me,
but the boogeyman
He’s gone

What was I sayi –

This is the first poem I'll post here, I really hope whoever reads it enjoys it. I also hope to get to know you all, as well as your work. Have a lovely day!
Andrew Dunham Jul 2015
His housewarming gift was a night of sweaty sheets
peeled eyelids
and restless tossing.
He lives beneath your bed,
contributing to the eerie feeling
that gives your domicile its familiarity.
Always awaiting a conversation,
but you're just so busy that he has to wait for nightfall
to whisper in you ear.
He will rarely show his face,
maybe because he's shy
or introverted.
He's lonely,
and desperately would like a friend
because you have more than enough space under your mattress.
did you ever think that the monster under your bed may just be a misguided spirit? probably not.
Nena Twedell Dec 2014
Standing here with a smile painted on
But if you saw past the mask you'd never would have turned away
Hands shaking, swallowing hard
Fearm seems to have taken control over me
I thought I had taken control over my life from the drugs
But fear saw an opportunity and took it
Now I'm hiding from the darkness outside
looking over my shoulder at every noise
Hope no one notices the sweat dripping from my brow
I'm trying to let someone know
but fear's got me by the throat
My words are trying to climbe out of my throat before it closes
but time is running out
And I'm wondering if we'll have enough time for them to climb out
I keep hoping someone will see past the mask
Because in the contract I can't take it off
Otherwise I may turn black and blue
I'm checking around the corner and under my bed
Like I'm searching for the boogeyman
when the only thing I'm going to find is looking back at me in the mirror
But fear is pushing me to the corner
hands on my throat
threatening my life as if it were worth nothing yet everything

— The End —