A Halloween poem – deconstructed

Trying to write a scary poem
For the Writers’ Chest.
So many ways to start,
I wonder which is best.

Do I go for ghoulish,
Or something more refined?
Do I make the horror clear,
Or leave it to the mind?

Then there comes the rhyming
Of all those scary creatures.
Zombie? Vampire? No rhymes.
Do I focus on their features?

And how to make things scary,
In the structure of the rhyme?
It’s hard to make the reader jump
When they can guess ahead in time.

Maybe I should back off
Leave this one to the writers.
Poets are tender lovers
But terrible monster fighters!

halloween2

The Raven and the Pumpkin (poem)

This was my entry into a competition on the website: http://susannahill.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/the-4th-annual-halloweensie-writing.html. It won a prize in the “Spookiest Entry” category, which is surely the most important Halloween prize, right?

The challenge was to write a Halloween story, in 100 words or fewer, containing the words: pumpkin, broomstick, and creak.

The raven with the sleek physique,
Popped the seed into its cheek.
From the seed a pumpkin grew.
The raven coughed it up, and flew
Up, away on broomstick sleek.

It draped itself in night’s mystique,
Searching for the ancient sign –
Golden countenance divine.
Having found this rare antique,
Was carried back within its beak.

The pumpkin, carved to match that face,
Brought living evil to that place.
Pumpkin crept without a creak,
And ate the bird before it shrieked!

So this year to protect your house,
Light a pumpkin candle… or else!

pumpkin

The greatest smell in the history of the world (poem)

Have you heard the tale of the greatest smell the world has ever smelt?
This frothy frightening nose-terror was from a framptious bottom dealt

It happened one balmy night in the height of the English summer,
Beginning in the bowels of the unassuming Walter Hummer.

Walter was a quiet lad, with some natural talent in this regard:
Sensing that a record was in his grasp, he started training hard.

He came up with a diet that was not for the faint-hearted
A full-on feast of fibrous foods that would spell danger if he  
started.

For breakfast he’d scoff down doughnuts, burgers, cheesy chips,
Beefy enchiladas, spicy nachos and some dips.

For lunch, a meat feast pizza, as meaty as it comes,
A bucket of fried chicken; a side of curried plums.

For dinner, onion bhajis, kebab, a hearty vindaloo
A bulging bowl of Brussels sprouts completes this toxic brew.

And in between, he’d snack on baked beans all throughout the day
Seasoned with garlicky onions, lentils and cabbage on the way

Heroically, he kept up this regime for several days on end
And kept on forcing food in, watching his belly distend.

By the time that Friday came, that tum was fit to burst.
Gurgling, churning, glugging, roiling, as poor Walter cursed.

Until at noon, his fermenting tum reached a critical mass:
With a YELP of pain and a CRACK of thunder he started leaking gas

The noise itself was long and terrible, but nothing to what ensued
As the fearsome fartball exploded forth in manner lewd and crude.

It rushed around the globe, wrinkling noses in Chile, Chad and China
In the history of noxious smells, there’s really nothing finer.

As the sinister smell swirled and whiffed around the world
Old ladies twirled, exclamations were hurled; hair was curled.

As for Walter, being at the epicentre had really left its mark:
The boy stood in a daze, as if savaged by a shark.

His hair bleached white; his teeth fell out; he couldn’t sit for a week.
Yet not once did his smile shift, for having created that reek.

For Walter, no record books, no statue, his achievement unseen:
But pong pride is more priceless than any prize from the Queen.

smell

A chance meeting with Runcible Sprocket (poem)

Walking back to home one day
I heard a voice in some dismay
“Excuse me! I don’t mean to cause a fuss,
But we entangled on the bus.

I say entangled, but it was either that
Or permit your buttocks to squash me flat.”

I looked down and recoiled a-daze
As a man below returned my gaze
“Good afternoon, I’m Runcible Sprocket,
And I am the person in your pocket.”

“What is the meaning of this,” I cried.
“What is the meaning of anything,” he replied.
“I’ve never seen such a little person,” I stuttered.
“I’m the tallest in my family,” he muttered.

“There are more!” I exclaimed.
“Lots and lots” he explained.

“There’s a lot more to this life
Than the stress and strain of daily strife.
Take a moment. Smell the flowers!
There’s so much more to this world of ours.

“Aliens walk among us, dressed in Sunday best.
There are dinosaurs in hiding, in pirates’ treasure chests.
There are unicorns and leprechauns, sworn to stay well-hidden.
Even the slightest mention of them is, well, forbidden.
There are fairies, elves and goblins, tree trolls and nymphs,
Open up your eyes and you will catch a glimpse!”

With that he bid a full and fond farewell
And left me blinking, caught up in his spell.

That day changed my world, I will now admit.

Since that day, I’ve always looked before I sit!

treasure chest

Walking Through Town (poem)

Walking through town
“You looking for a fight?”
Took me down the boxing club
We had a great old night

Walking through town
“Looking for a good time?”
Off we went to the theatre
To watch the pantomime

Walking through town
“Are you looking to score?”
Down the park for a kick around
And I scored four

So many nice people about
I never feel down
Whenever I stop and chat
Walking through town!

walking through town

The Spider Round My U-Bend (poem)

Wrote this for my aunt and uncle this evening, based on their (true) story. Thought I’d share it on here!

There’s a spider round my U-bend
It’s leggy, black and green
I may not be an expert
But it’s the biggest one I’ve seen

I started to call her Suzy
To make her seem less scary…
Didn’t really work though,
Not when she’s that hairy!

She’s started taking showers,
She even used my shaver.
She acts like she owns the place,
Like she’s doing US a favour

We tried to co-exist
And live happily together.
But now she’s got to go,
However cold the weather!

shock

I want to be a mermaid… (poem)

I wish I was a mermaid
Darting beneath the sea.

I’ve always been good at swimming
To a greater or lesser degree.
I can even hold my breath
For a minute and 23.
I sang a song to a sailor once
(Though that’s no guarantee)
And I know the names of several fish:
I saw them on tv.

So, I’m perfectly suited
I think we can all agree.
I want to be a mermaid:
That’s the life for me!

mermaid

One Day Death Will Come (poem)

One day Death will come
She’ll lead me by the hand
Across the threshold to the Never
And in her light I’ll stand.

Do not mourn my passing
For She must come to us
Whether we rot from cancer
Or are struck down by a bus.

I know not how I’ll pass
That is the price of living
Knowing that what lives must die
For She is unforgiving.

I hope you’ll light a candle
Remember me once in a while
I have loved, and been loved.

I can greet her with a smile

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flickr.com/photos/27147/4873151043