Lisa 7d

There’s a horror in the city
but it’s always Halloween in someone’s basement
in the suburbs the closets are inundated with skeletons
each dressed in friendly attire
but never opening the door
the neighbors always watching through sheer curtains
binoculars at the ready
instead of candy on doorsteps
there’s signs of beware of the maniac with the pistol
locked and loaded watching the 6’oclock news
no apocalypse is breaking into our windows tonight
there’s a hum and it’s making all the locals go mad
they still haven’t figured out it’s the cicadas
not demons in their trees looking for a discount lunch
the desert is a harsh place when the sun is
drawn sloppily on the right hand corner of a page
the houses all uniformed for the drought to come
each manicured lawn is a haunting for the
unemployed drunk in the nearby trailer park
the ghosts of those whose Christmas
doesn’t come in stockings but stalking
and restraining orders
the spookiest part is not the
slasher hotels or the creature feature
shows at the bars and clubs
but the calm, serene and unsettling
manner in which everyone congregates
on Sunday morning to be cleansed
of impurities, each smile stretching farther and farther
until the seconds drip into communion wine
until the hours dissolve in one’s mouth like god’s flesh
reinvented, resuscitated, resurrected

Arise, my brothers
for the pastor is watching
there’s a twinkle in his eyes
and there are boys missing after every ceremony
but no one questions why

AS Nilsen Jul 6
#64

Meow
He said

Meow
She heard
Marquise eyes
For everyone’s purr

My Jack O'Lantern has a Jagged toothy grin. It is a candle burning with orange lasting light to keep at bay the spirits of the night.
I put you at my door to keep the fear from coming this way, knowing that the demons will be scared off on this special day.
You are my lucky ward to fend-off the demon hordes.
So please burn bright for me the rest of Halloween night my fearless beacon of gentle falling light.
You are my saving flame, warming my heart and giving a feeling of delight as you save me from the scary night.
Thank you Jack O'Lantern for your might against Halloween night.

This was inspired by a history of how pumpkins came about. Some people would carve faces into turnips to ward off evil spirits, later it became a pumpkin. Years later someone added a candle and it became the jack-o'-lantern we see today.
Jason Comeaux Jun 20

Chocolate Kisses turn to mud,
Their little paper ribbons coil
like snakes around his stomach
Twisting, constricting.
Smarties made of chalk and ash
Taste like fear and salty tears,
Bitter with disappointment.
Trust is lost.
Illusions shattered.
A boy stares through his sugary mountain.

© Jason Comeaux (6/20/17)

The Halloween when  I received some upsetting news after trick or treating.
Avery Jun 8

leaves burning orange and red like fire | curly brunette hair tumbling past your shoulders
the taste of pumpkin on your tongue | the wind becoming colder
gray sweaters | old books
cats | the feeling of old wood on your fingertips
burnt matches | the smell of parchment
chill rock music | bonfires
flannels with the sleeves rolled up | halloween

free-verse, originally posted on a different platform (07.06.2017)

They take to the street on this night of Halloween;
A night to celebrate; to feast unseen.

What is perceived as a mask,
of horns and decay,
Is in truth just the face of a nightmare ready to play.

For this is the night that
they have freedom to roam,
with no one to stop them from approaching a home.

The door is opened,
by a victim so bold.
and as she turns away, they leap from the cold.

In the blink of an eye,
they are ready to eat,
the last thing they heard being "Trick or Treat".

My modernday Morgan Le Fay
used to make love on graves,
now she sleeps all day.
She's a zomballerina in a zombikini.
masking her feelings with mirtazapini.
Dr.Fangoria prescribe the Torah!
Dr. Creepshow prescribe the Gospel!
O baby, do you still believe in All Hallow's Eve?

My costume's got no bonce on,
but I ain't Anne Boleyn.
Dogchub stump for a neck,
how do I sing?
Hole in my head
too whole to scream
'Verminend' to vulture teens,
smells like trick or treat.

This hello how low Halloween
I'm gonna go as a headless axeman.

Sabrina the teenage selfharmer
went to the witch doctors of big pharma.
Me, I swear by traditional eye of newt
- dontcha know Old Cloots is in cahoots with Boots?
Sepulchral sex,
Edgar Allan Porno on your meds.
But baby do you still believe
in All Hallow's Eve?

My costume's got no bonce on,
but I ain't met Madam Guillotine
for a bloody valentine,
1789.
Play chicken with depression,
you might lose your head
on swingers' ouija weekend
with the Livinghyphendeads.

This hello how low Halloween
I'm gonna go as a headless axeman.

The Judge Apr 25

In the darkness of the night
I see her body rise.
My ears pick up a faint noise
as I hear the townfolks cries.

I steal the blade of my sword
and don my trusty cloak.
Hoping that the former
will not find any blood to soak.

But all through the night,
I hear the banshee's cries.
But she'll be the only one screaming
for she's my sword's bride.

Sorry bout the long wait guys, I've been really busy with school and honestly forgot this site existed. Hope you enjoy!
Toni Lane Feb 27

Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets
as they try to hide from the two-legged monsters,
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

Now, these cats are innocent beings, but the world still sees
these rulers of the night as demons, the haunters.
Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets

to pray for poor Lulu, once a gentle and upbeat
stray, now nothing more than a beaten piece of meat, a goner.
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

These two-legged fiends thirst for the warmth of blood, to defeat
the plague of evil omens these cuddly harlots seem to foster.
Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets

sick and mangled from the Devil’s calling group, two-legged deceit,
what was thought to be love was in truth, an imposter.
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

A fluffy body hung from the balcony by a copper cable marks the ritual complete, the black tufts of fur serve as a reward to those monsters.
Black and bruised cats are collecting in the streets,
Onto the frigid ground these felines lay so sweet.

Nateive Son Feb 26

+Dedicated to BusBar Dancer+

Hey Jack!
(That's the monk sitting next to me,
Year bein' 1492,
scribbling his scribe like a mad cat high on the 'nip,
Quill dippin' like a hardcore pornographer,
Just let out to vote in his first election,
Since goin' in the joint for THE WEED possession)

WHATTA HOLLER DOWN THE HOLE?

FIRE!

I wanna tell the lie and be a good boy,
I wanna tell the lie and be a good boy,
I wanna tell the lie and be a good boy,

So that I can live forever.

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