RSS

Category Archives: Horror

OUTSMARTING THE GRIM REAPER

The Grim reaper

OUTSMARTING THE GRIM REAPER

Every morning when I awake
And reach for my paper and coffee cake,
I check to see if my name appears,
Trying to quell my deepest fears
That this might be the very day
When the old grim reaper has his way
It’s really a little game we play!

He’s trying to catch me unawares,
I don’t think that he really cares
When it will be, as long as he can say he’s won…
The game is over… so long… it’s done.
But I must outwit his nefarious scheme
For it has always been my dream
To live as long as my enemies do
Longer is better from my point of view!

So I eat my veggies, drink my milk,
Cream my face till it’s smooth as silk
When I drink my wine, I never drive,
Insuring I will arrive home alive.
I watch my weight, walk a mile a day
And watch out for cars along the way.
I’ve followed the plan to a tee
But there is a problem that I see

I’ve gotten too old to run and hide
As I feel my bones rub together inside
So I’ve decided to lure him to bed
But with someone else lying there instead.
And since love is blind, he will not see,
The victim he smites is not me!
The game is over…so long…it’s done
But he’ll never know…it is I who’s won!

Copyright©2008 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)

*************

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on June 18, 2014 in Horror, humor, humour

 

Tags: , ,

The Vampires are Coming!

The Vampires are Coming!

The Vampires are coming, hip, hip hooray,

Fun times – and blood times – are coming YOUR way,

Watch out for the Vampires, cunning and chic,

They are coming, yes coming, to drink your blood, sweet.

*******************

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on April 22, 2014 in Horror, vampires

 

Tags: ,

A Haunted House by Virginia Woolf

A Haunted House by Virginia Woolf

Whatever hour you woke there was a door shutting. From room to room they went, hand in hand, lifting here, opening there, making sure–a ghostly couple.

“Here we left it,” she said. And he added, “Oh, but here tool” “It’s upstairs,” she murmured. “And in the garden,” he whispered. “Quietly,” they said, “or we shall wake them.”

But it wasn’t that you woke us. Oh, no. “They’re looking for it; they’re drawing the curtain,” one might say, and so read on a page or two. “Now they’ve found it,’ one would be certain, stopping the pencil on the margin. And then, tired of reading, one might rise and see for oneself, the house all empty, the doors standing open, only the wood pigeons bubbling with content and the hum of the threshing machine sounding from the farm. “What did I come in here for? What did I want to find?” My hands were empty. “Perhaps its upstairs then?” The apples were in the loft. And so down again, the garden still as ever, only the book had slipped into the grass.

But they had found it in the drawing room. Not that one could ever see them. The windowpanes reflected apples, reflected roses; all the leaves were green in the glass. If they moved in the drawing room, the apple only turned its yellow side. Yet, the moment after, if the door was opened, spread about the floor, hung upon the walls, pendant from the ceiling–what? My hands were empty. The shadow of a thrush crossed the carpet; from the deepest wells of silence the wood pigeon drew its bubble of sound. “Safe, safe, safe” the pulse of the house beat softly. “The treasure buried; the room . . .” the pulse stopped short. Oh, was that the buried treasure?

A moment later the light had faded. Out in the garden then? But the trees spun darkness for a wandering beam of sun. So fine, so rare, coolly sunk beneath the surface the beam I sought always burned behind the glass. Death was the glass; death was between us, coming to the woman first, hundreds of years ago, leaving the house, sealing all the windows; the rooms were darkened. He left it, left her, went North, went East, saw the stars turned in the Southern sky; sought the house, found it dropped beneath the Downs. “Safe, safe, safe,” the pulse of the house beat gladly. ‘The Treasure yours.”

The wind roars up the avenue. Trees stoop and bend this way and that. Moonbeams splash and spill wildly in the rain. But the beam of the lamp falls straight from the window. The candle burns stiff and still. Wandering through the house, opening the windows, whispering not to wake us, the ghostly couple seek their joy.

“Here we slept,” she says. And he adds, “Kisses without number.” “Waking in the morning–” “Silver between the trees–” “Upstairs–” ‘In the garden–” “When summer came–” ‘In winter snowtime–” “The doors go shutting far in the distance, gently knocking like the pulse of a heart.

Nearer they come, cease at the doorway. The wind falls, the rain slides silver down the glass. Our eyes darken, we hear no steps beside us; we see no lady spread her ghostly cloak. His hands shield the lantern. “Look,” he breathes. “Sound asleep. Love upon their lips.”

Stooping, holding their silver lamp above us, long they look and deeply. Long they pause. The wind drives straightly; the flame stoops slightly. Wild beams of moonlight cross both floor and wall, and, meeting, stain the faces bent; the faces pondering; the faces that search the sleepers and seek their hidden joy.

“Safe, safe, safe,” the heart of the house beats proudly. “Long years–” he sighs. “Again you found me.” “Here,” she murmurs, “sleeping; in the garden reading; laughing, rolling apples in the loft. Here we left our treasure–” Stooping, their light lifts the lids upon my eyes. “Safe! safe! safe!” the pulse of the house beats wildly. Waking, I cry “Oh, is this your buried treasure? The light in the heart.”

*********************************

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on April 16, 2014 in Horror, Scary

 

Tags: ,

Crazymad stories for children and adults

eBooks, stories for children and young at heart adults, courtesy of  The Crazymad Writer.

Click on the link and enjoy.  

*****

The Witches

*****

 

Tags: , , ,

Graves

Graves

*

Graves,

Graves,

Silent rust down,

Graves,

Graves,

Strained bedfellows we are,

Graves,

Graves,

So far and so near,

Graves,

Graves,

What more can I say?

*****

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on January 16, 2014 in Horror, poems, rhyme stew

 

Tags: ,

He Thought He Saw…

He Thought He Saw…

He thought he saw a politician,

Who lived the perfect life,

He looked again, and saw it was,

A huge, humongous lie .

That’s it, he said, I realise,

The foolishness of life.

 *****

He thought he saw an honest man,

Within the parliament,

He looked again, and saw it was,

Another bloated blimp.

Unless they leave this house, he said,

There will be no hope, I think.

 *****

He thought he saw a banker man,

Who made an honest buck,

He looked again, and saw he was,

Entwined in all the muck.

If I were king, he said,

His head would be on the block.

  *****

He thought he saw a banker’s clerk,

A man of honest youth,

He looked again, and saw he was,

A succubus forsooth.

If he should stay, he said, for sure,

My savings I will lose.

  *****

He thought he saw a kangaroo,

Hopping down his street one day,

He looked again, and saw it was,

A banker’s ill gained pay.

Were I to accept this, he said,

It would be a dark, dark day.

 *****

He though he saw limousine,

With groom and bride, so sweet,

He looked again, and saw it was,

The country on its knees.

We’re lost, he said, the country’s bust,

Kaput, no more, deceased.

  *****

He though he saw a shaft of light,

That shone through all this gloom,

He looked again, and saw it was,

The cold, reflected moon.

If I were young, he said aloud,

I’d make them swing – and soon!

  *****

He though he saw a chink of light,

A way from all this mess,

He looked again, and saw it was,

Their New World Order – yes!

Their ways are bad, corrupt, he said

For them, not us, excess.

  *****

He thought he saw the final words,

Inscribed upon a sheet,

He looked again, and saw it was,

Them sweating from the heat.

They thought us fools, he sorely said,

Come on, we’ve lives to live.

*********************

*********************

Click HERE to visit my online eBook shop

*********************

*********************

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on December 31, 2013 in Horror, humor, humour, poems, rhyme stew

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Wallace & Gromit doing Christmas

Wallace & Gromit – Christmas Cardomatic

 

Tags:

Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth

Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth,
And spotted the perils beneath,
All the toffees I chewed,
And the sweet sticky food,
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me teeth.

(This was written by the wonderful Pam Ayres).

 

Tags: , , ,

Greedy Bankers

Greedy Bankers (banksters)

Bankers, greedy bankers,

Hoist them up high,

Burn them on bonfires,

For all of their lies,

Dance around the bonfires,

Glory in their pain,

And when you have done it,

Do it again!

************************

Buy this eBook today!

Click HERE to purchase this eBook via PayPal

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on November 26, 2013 in Horror, humor, humour, Ireland

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

I am Man

I am man,

Born of woman; man,

I stand for all that is right,

I am man,

I fight injustice and bias,

I am man,

I will NEVER allow Neanderthals to get the upper hand,

For I am man, of woman, with woman, against Neanderthal man.

******************

 

 

Tags: , ,

 
%d bloggers like this: