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Paul McMahon Jun 2020
Come in, come in, do not be afraid my friend
Walk up my steps and through my door
Everyone is gathered and waiting to commend
Your courage for treading upon this floor.

Of course I am so much older than the glass and wood
That you see now as you make your way inside.
To understand this fact I wish you only could
That I have lived here since long before Christ died.

Please don’t be afraid of that light brush against your leg
It’s only the cat, she heard you enter and now she nears
Do not reach to pet her, this I really must beg
You will come off worse, she hasn’t eaten in 500 years

This shell that is my current form was raised when Victoria reigned
In my life I have been a castle, a poor house, a stables and a fort
Stories of my evil, flow down the years never being explained
But ignore all that, it is the over eager indulging in their sport.

I have not done such bad, perhaps an occasional suicide.
My most recent look and see the very rafters where she hung from
She is most impatient about meeting you ever since the day she died
Shush now can you hear that sound, why it is the dinner drum.

They are over excited, that’ll be the children who live my walls
Cemented in by the parents convinced they were possessed.
The screams that day, you may hear them yet echo down the halls
An awful way to perish, you must consider yourself truly blessed

Six children I have listened to them scream ever since that faithful day
When brick by brick they disappeared so that their parents may flee
The couple met with the black death, that was the price I made them pay
And I got six fine young companions in this house for all eternity.

We do have time before we sit so let’s take a walk upstairs
Three times spouses have sent their lovers tumbling down the other way
Have you ever heard a neck snap as the spinal column tears?
And when the murderer finds what they’ve done they knell to pray and pray

I have them all those three great falls
Downstairs they sit over dinner moonlit
Waiting our guest and each in contest
To hope to spend tonight with our new friend.


Enough of that, I must complete the tour of my ancient abode
From the master bedroom I have really just the view you need.
See that tree? There men caught many a debt they were owed.
Stoning, their enemies tied to it and forced their lives to concede.

Such a messy business and when you meet them I ask you not to stare
The dents and scars of crushed and shattered skulls have followed
Each of these poor agonised fools from life so fair
To this side, to spend their time with heads misshaped and hollowed.

And again the drum *** *** that tells us we are expected
‘tis so rare we get a visitor to join us as we dine
It took a while to gather this meal but now it is perfected
We’ll feast on souls and blood shall serve as a wine.

Ignore that sound, don’t look back for I know you will regret
The hideous creature that follows us will turn your form to stone
That hot damp feeling on your neck it is the beast’s own breath
Stay at my side, by my step it will devour you should you walk alone.

Notice please if you will that the house is changing in exhilaration
Why only just this moment we were walking down steps of wood.
And the house plays its part in giving us this beautiful creation
Can’t you see, it’s now torn out human limbs on which you're stood.

Mind your stomach, keep it down, we have a feast ahead
We would all be saddened if at this time your constitution failed
They have waited so long for no one ever comes to visit us, the dead
They’ll want to hear of your old life so full and deeply detailed.

Old life? Why yes indeed, that is the arrangement that you made
With your friends when you accepted the wager to stay in the haunted house
The deal is done, the book is closed, the ultimate price has been paid
My friend, you look so shocked and you’ve gone as quiet as mouse.

Every time I claim a soul my friend the devil plays upon his fiddle
Come now dry your tears don’t let them know that you cried.
You are our guest of honour take that seat the one that’s in the middle
The girl beside you, she hung herself and in death she’ll be your bride.

Sit my friend don’t pretend
That tonight you can take flight
From this place and your life retrace
You are now here so accept the fear

Finally we are all altogether, at our feast from now until forever.
Aa Harvey May 2018
Scared of Ghosts.


A ghost appears through the eyes full of tears
And scares us so much, it awakens our fears.
Is it real or not?  We can’t know for sure;
But it seems so real to us as it enters our world.


Will it hurt us, will it **** us, will it make us a ghost?
We don’t know so we run away, but to where we don’t know.
Just as long as the ghost is gone, because we’re scared out our minds.
No I’m not crazy!  It was there!  Are you blind?


No I’m not joking; I saw it, an apparition before me.
It was see through, but there.  It’s a complete mystery.
I never used to believe in ghosts, before now;
But I saw it; it was there!  It could **** me somehow.


So I ran out the house and down the street
And all the neighbour’s must have heard my screams;
But that doesn’t mean I’m crazy.  I saw it; it was real.
The ghost stood there before me and scared me.  It was ethereal.


Some people say ghosts can’t hurt you, but how do they know?
Have they seen a ghost, lurking down there in the shadows?
I was scared to death, by this image of the dead,
So believe me when I say I am not out of my head.


A dead person stood before me and I saw it shimmer in the light;
It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.  Oh what a fright.
It appeared at night; do they not appear during the day?
I don’t know and I don’t want to find out.  I’m moving; ok!
I can’t stay in this house; it is haunted.  I’m out of here!
I believe in ghosts now; they are my biggest fear.
They can’t touch me?  I don’t believe you; I won’t risk it, goodbye.
I’m getting as far as I can from this spirit.  It was my own fright night.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
I have a date with a house and a Dead Girl.

Tip, now the question is, will she beat me or welcome me or just allow me to be?

The dreams I have are mostly rather electrolysis, crosses fingers peers up in a puppy dog look and begs, please don't whoop
my *** this time.

now unass this pitiful state of apprehension and get my hillbilly **** together so to make it for this date with a haunted house full of memories that are not all bad, urging, and a dead girl with a serious mean streak, to be  that mean one has to have a heart of gold.

looking into the mirror I reassure myself, that yes we have a heart of gold in common.  yes, a heart of gold, now just keep telling yourself, I understand , I should have been in her shoes yesterday......... oh how I know this truth all too well, of yesterdays and shoes, st. andrews hall by blind melon.
well, seems it will havering be a date for tomorrow. will have to pray a miracle will happen between now and then so as to grace me my memory on where to go, because I foolishly deleted the way point like a *****.  and though my dreams kept telling me I would find someone there when I go, I must not allow such childish hopes to become an expectation, simply by way of recent history and the constant wild goose chase that I have been oh so willing to travel down. so yeah, still have a date with a haunted house and a marsh where a dead girl haunts. no, I am not kidding. sadly, no. but the bright side is, maybe answers or at the very least more questions will come of it. tomorrow. yes I will be bringing flowers, even dead girls must like flowers. I would. smiles.
Shelby Predrick Apr 2015
Remonstrances sound in the pale evening gloom
One that is feared, a midnight rose' bloom.
Concealed by a thick, emerging wall
Cries never heard, dying off at her call.

Peering round the tombstone tree,
I see leaves swaying in the ominous breeze.
A foretelling of an unknown story
That has come to end, Grimm's morning glory.

Peeling off the gigantic red brick house,
Are cement and paint in cold dry blood.
Parting gazes deceive the spider
As the web tears apart for the cunning outsider.

Flickering and broken lamps unfixed
They cast light on the wicked, devouring mix
Of witches and grumps, different and alike
Who ruin our lives
And rip even knives.

A considerable vacation it must be
To head in and out, oh how much fun and glee!
But horror tales come undone only in the fall
When the glimmer wears off
And ink splatters the prison wall.

— The End —