A POEM WRITTEN FOR ME! by KENNY MCPHEE — “SPOOKY SUSANNE”

I’m surprised and honored to have a poem written for me by fellow poet, Kenny McPhee.  Most of my poetry is on the spooky side. I began writing poetry as a way to showcase my book. Soon I found I love to write poems. I’ve added nature and inspiration to my repertoire, but I’m basically a creepy poet.

SPOOKY SUSANNE You enjoy a walk on the dark side, susanne if you take a train, it will be the ghost train if you have a dream, it will make you scream you like to shiver and feel the menace of demons, ghouls and shady fellers you’re into stephen king and james herbert I bet you have a rat for a pet and paranormal tendencies Nobody true, they say, but once in a while a poet can make the spine tingle with the rightness of his or her words.  May you enjoy the holy terror, my dear, forever more!

WE LOVE TO DANCE

Source:king-of-the-scumbunnies 

We love to dance.

To the pounding music.

To the sounds of the night.

To the darkness.

To the end.

To The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME

Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

A STRANGE PLACE

Source:dennieblackwidow

The mind can be a strange place.

It can think up dark stories.

With monsters and demons.

A little murder and mayhem.

Skulls and bones for decoration.

Maybe your cup of tea is blood.

Your coffee carries some poison.

Let your mind roam the darkness.

And maybe beyond.

THE DEAD GAME

I can see in the dark night.
I can see the deadly fight.
The small town is about to fall.
No one will be left here at all.

More shadows are coming to town.
One is wearing a fancy crown.
The trade winds are growing in force.
I'll keep meowing till I'm hoarse.

The figures are chanting.
They are also praying.
To some demon from hell.
Now I can hear a bell.

Bells are ringing around us.
I don't want to make a fuss.
But time for us has come to an end.
To these creatures I refuse to bend.

THE DEAD GAME



Kindle

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP

Nook

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 


 

A PUPPET

A puppet on a string.
Creepy.
Surreal.
Never in control.
At someone’s beck and call.
It must end.

Before it’s too late.
Before I turn to wood.
Before I become a Pinocchio.
No puppet life for me.
I will stand up for myself.
I will throw off my strings.
I will walk on my own.
I will be free at last.
Never to be
someone’s puppet
ever again.

DO YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

Do you like what you see
in the mirror every morning?
Is it revealing a hidden secret,
buried deep inside yourself?
A horror that no one can ever see.
A feeling.
A thought.
So repulsive that
it must never see
the light of day.
Keep it hidden behind
your pretty face.
For no one to ever suspect.
What are you hiding?

THE EMPTY STAIRCASE

I close my eyes to sleep,
and what do I see?
The staircase from my past.
The stairs from my
elementary school.
I could still hear children’s voices
as they run up the stairs to classes.
I hear shouts as they run down
into the basement for lunch.
But I can’t see their faces.
I can only hear their voices.
All I see is the staircase,
waiting for me.
If I go back there, will
the dream go away?
Will new faces and voices
replace the old ones?
I’m too afraid to find out.
I don’t want new nightmares
to pile on top of the old ones.
So I’ll just go to sleep, and
dream about my empty staircase.

THE FULL MOON ON FRIDAY THE 13TH

hocuspocus13

Magickal Arts

Happy Friday The 13th AND Full Moon!

Posted on June 13, 2014 by hocuspocus13

Originally posted on A Little Bit Funny:

Today is an awesome day!
by Meg Scanlon
picture via americanlivewire.com

DALI AT HIS WEIRD BEST

rainingbluefloyd:

Dalì, Swans Reflecting Elephants. 1937.

No one can create a picture like Dali.
A picture with hidden meanings about his many obsessions.
The more you stare at it, the more you can see.
Disturbing images from Dali’s youth.
Could that be Dali standing off to the left side
by himself, with his hands in his pockets,
staring off into space?
A man who never fit in with his peers or society.
A man who used his demons to create works of art.

THE WORLD HAS GONE CRAZY

More cats.
Where are they going?
Why are they acting like people
going to work?
Have I slept too long and the
world has turned upside down?
Forget it.
I’m going back to sleep.

THE DEAD GAME -- DAY 128

 

A strange party in a glass house. Linda felt lost among the guests, who were strange in their own ways.

     All of a sudden, Linda had a strange feeling that she was being stared at. She glanced around and was rewarded with a quick glimpse of Leanne standing behind a glass wall. She wore a severe-looking, long-sleeved black gown. It looked like she’d been watching them before she hid behind the green wall. A glass wall doesn’t hide too much.

     She watched Leanne make her way up the clear staircase. But maybe Leanne hadn’t been hiding: she could have been innocently climbing the stairs. Leanne was creepy. She was tall and skinny with long black hair, a serious look forever plastered on her long face. She was never seen laughing or smiling. In retrospect, she was hardly ever seen at all in town.

     Sounds of laughter flowed in from the entrance. She turned and noticed Reece standing in the middle of a group of ladies—all giggling and vying for his attention.

    He gave them equal attention. Maybe he wasn’t the recluse that people portrayed him to be. Reece was tall and ruggedly good-looking, but she couldn’t figure out his age. He had a full head of dark hair without any grey running through it. He could have easily picked any one of the beautiful women standing around him, but instead he chose a short and chubby brunette. She seemed to have a good sense of humor, since Linda could hear their laughter bubbling across the ballroom.

     Todd said, “Reece is a good person. I hope he finds someone to replace his wife, who died this past year.”

     “How did she die?”

     “She died from old age.”

     “How could that be? Reece doesn’t look old.”

     He didn’t answer, and she decided not to pursue it any further for now.
 

DREAM ON!

DREAM ON!

whose-responsible-this:

Trame by lathander1987

This is a better place to dream about.
A garden with reindeer and butterflies.
A small waterfall cascading over the rocks.
Birds flying high in the sky.
Dream on!

• 

splendiferoushoney:

by Wolfgang Harms

This is how my mind feels like now.
A little foggy and confused.
Some place between awake and asleep.
With little green men blowing horns.

THE DEAD GAME -- DAY 125

     

The party at Diane's house was underway. Linda was in awe of the glass ball of a house with its sparkling glass interior. The whole evening felt unreal, as if she was having a dream.

     Couples were swirling around the immense dance floor. They were actually dancing in a large studio between Diane’s life-sized statues. Each sculpture was carved from clear glass: each one revealing a full-sized person. Linda found them to be too lifelike. She stood next to one and stared into it frozen face. She was startled by a fleeting expression of horror that seemed to cross over its features—as if a real person was trapped inside, staring out at her from within his glass tomb. Then the look was gone and the statue appeared lifeless once again.

     Her morbid thoughts made her shiver, prompting Todd to grasp her even tighter against his body. She smiled up at him and wondered how she could have been afraid of him. She was slowly brought back to reality by the quick tapping of someone’s high heels, approaching them.

     A beautiful blonde woman with huge green eyes, wearing a diaphanous white dress, came over to greet them. “Hi! Welcome to my party! I am Diane, your hostess,” she said as she glided over to greet them.

     Linda admired the tall blonde’s ageless beauty, while Todd made the introductions. Diane responded that she was thrilled that they’d come to her party, and then floated off to welcome other people who were arriving.

     Linda gazed around the exquisite room, immediately recognizing two familiar faces: Minnie and Frank, who appeared to be almost floating across the dance floor. Frank was formal in his tuxedo, while Minnie was cute and perky in her short white baby-doll dress. As soon as they spotted Linda’s group, they danced over. Over the loud music, Minnie explained that they’d gotten a babysitter for this evening.

     All of a sudden Minnie lost her happy glow, appearing both nervous and unhappy. She mouthed to Linda that they’d never missed one of Diane’s parties—no matter what. Frank, who was monitoring their hushed conversation, abruptly took Minnie’s arm and led her back to the dance floor.

     Linda knew that there had to be some hidden meaning behind Minnie’s whispered words. She was beginning to believe that everyone in town had their own little secrets. She wasn’t so sure anymore whether she wanted to unbury all of them: Who knew what would come up when these unearthed secrets were finally brought to light?