GHOSTLY POEMS

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Gorgeous, atmospheric moon above my house, August 26th 2015. (my own, pseudo vintage 1950’s horror movie shot)

It’s Halloween and it’s a Saturday—a fantastic combination of good weather and time to enjoy every minute of it with family and friends.

At home, we’ve been preparing for the thrills and chills of Halloween night by watching horror movies: some classics, like Son of Frankenstein, and others that are terrible and campy in the very best way.

Here’s some poetry to heighten the tension and help create a spooky atmosphere.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

 

 

 

 

 

GARDEN UNDER LIGHTNING—Leonora Speyer (Published in 1921)

(Ghost-Story)

Out of the storm that muffles shining nightspeyerimage.120504
Flash roses ghastly-sweet,
And lilies far too pale.
There is a pang of livid light,
A terror of familiarity,
I see a dripping swirl of leaves and petals
That I once tended happily,
Borders of flattened, frightened little things,
And writhing paths I surely walked in that other life—
Day?

 My specter-garden beckons to me,
Gibbers horribly—
And vanishes!

 

Brown_lady

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ALL HALLOWS NIGHT—Lizette Woodworth Reese

Two things I did on Hallows Night:—

Made my house April-clear;

Left open wide my door

lizette-woodworth-reese
Lizette Woodworth Reese

To the ghosts of the year.

 

Then one came in. Across the room

It stood up long and fair—

The ghost that was myself—

And gave me stare for stare.

 

 

 

130_eapoeFrom SPIRITS IF THE DEAD, by Edgar Allan Poe

“Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.”

 

 

 

 

MR. MACKLIN’S JACK O’LANTERN—David McCord

Mr. Macklin takes his knife

And carves the yellow pumpkin face:DavidMcCord-biopic

Three holes bring eyes and nose to life,

The mouth has thirteen teeth in place.

Then Mr. Macklin just for fun

Transfers the corn-cob pipe from his

Wry mouth to Jack’s, and everyone

Dies laughing! Oh What fun it is

Till Mr. Macklin draws the shade

And lights the candle in Jack’s skull

Then all the inside dark is made

As spooky and as horrorful

As Halloween, and creepy crawl

The shadows on the tool-house floor,

With Jack’s face dancing on the wall.

 

O Mr. Macklin! where’s the door?

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