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Happy Halloween!!!!

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John



Joined: 02 Mar 2004
Posts: 521
Location: Massachusetts
Happy Halloween!!!!  Reply with quote  

OK. I thought I would start a little Halloween thread. Please submit any Halloween based stories, poems, tidbits, lyrics, or recipes to help us get into the spirit.

I will go first. I know I posted this here before but not in the past year:

Ode to Stephen King

Yesterday, upon the stair
I saw a man who wasnít there
He wasnít there again today
Oh, I wish heíd go away

He wasnít there the week before
Pounding on my bedroom door
He isnít even with me now
With cruel intent upon his brow

He doesnít speak about my doom
While I lay locked within my room
He doesnít let his fingers creep
As I lay down and start to sleep

I donít see him in the morn
His eyes all sunk, his flesh all torn
Heís not behind me when I shave
Face in mirror, mocking wave

He isnít there within my dreams
Making plans and plotting schemes
Trying to make me use the knife
To carve some flesh, to take a life

HE THRUSTSÖ

Maybe this is all a dream
Iíll wake anew, refreshed, serene
Maybe heís not in my head
That evil man, the King of Dead

Itís just that itís so hard, you know?
To close my ears against his crow
He also doesnít scream my name
A cheer from hell, a sound insane

HE THRUSTS HIS FISTSÖ

I know that heís not really there
With empty eyes, upon that stair
I know that he canít make me act
To cut and maim, a demonís pact

HE THRUSTS HIS FISTS AGAINST THE POSTSÖ

Sometimes I think Iíll lose control
Heíll use my hands. Heíll own my soul
The man not there could set me free
Itís not my fault, itís him not me

Perhaps Iíll start with Mrs. Bray
That sweet old girl from 7J
Iíll have her in for tea and toast
Sheíll show me pics, sheíll brag, sheíll boast

And then Iíll show her my new hammer
Iíll smash her head, to stop her yammer
And as she lay dying, in her chair
He wonít be watching from that stair

HE THRUSTS HIS FISTS AGAINST THE POSTS
BUT STILL INSISTS Ö

Next, Iíll visit Mr. Moore
That nice old man at the corner store
Heíll say hi, weíll chat the weather
Behind my back, the straps of leather

Iíll strap him down, heíll cry and scream
The sound like wine, his hopes unseen
Then my friend who isnít there
Will leave his place upon that stair

Heíll come to me with his evil grin
Heíll guide my knife and put it in
Poor Mr. Moore, heís failed lifeís test
Weíll carve our names upon his chest

HE THRUSTS HIS FISTS AGAINST THE POSTS
BUT STILL INSISTS HE SEES THE GHOSTS

Ö
Ö

No! I wonít! I will not do it!
I donít believe! No, not one bit!
There is no man! There is no stair!
Itís just a dream and life is fair

Then why is it that I donít sleep?
When he doesnít come and makes me weep
Iím so tired but I wonít hear
But heís not whispering from that stair

Please, help me now, while I still resist him
Heís not right here, his claws in my limb
He tells me I should kill you all
He says that that would be a ball

HE THRUSTS HIS FISTS AGAINST THE POSTS
BUT STILL INSISTS HE SEES THE GHOSTS

God, make it stop, I donít care how
Just end my life, right here and now
Then I can rest upon that stair
The one with the man who isnít there

Iíll take his place right on that riser
Iíll find some girl and tantalize her
Sheíll think she sees me, on that stair
Iíll tell her no Ö your wrong Ö cause Iím not there
_________________
"Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy""

Post Wed Oct 27, 2004 1:39 pm   View user's profile Send private message Send e-mail Visit poster's website AIM Address
John



Joined: 02 Mar 2004
Posts: 521
Location: Massachusetts
 Reply with quote  

OK. I will go again.

This little dity was written by a friend of mine;

A Love Story

Her eyes, haunting.
Deep, brown, soft, beyond sensual.
Her eyes,
my God,
her eyes.
My love,
my Passion,
my obsession.
For seventeen days we had starved for each other.

We had waited patiently,
each of us.
We had dared not touch
For fear ofÖfor fear
of ourselves really.
Fear of what we might do.
What we knew we could and
probably would do.
So,
we waited,
patiently.

And when finally the moment
of long awaited salvation came to fruition
I could not look away from her eyes,
her incredible eyes.
I couldnít wait forever though,
My lustful yearning
conquered my sensibilities.
I reached out my hand,
caressed her cheek,
ran my fingers through her hair
and lifting her head out of the bowl,
looked eagerly inside.

There was about a half a pint.
I placed her head on the table
and slowly drank from the bowl
her deep, rich, sweet blood.

Nothing,
and I mean nothing
had ever tasted so good.
My stomach screamed with
agony and delight.

I drank a little more than half
then put down the bowl.
I picked up her body,
and dragged her to the front door.
I opened it and slammed her into
a solid wall of snow and ice.

If I were going to live Ďtil spring
I would have to devour her
slowly;
piece by ever loving piece.

I shut the door
and locked it.
I have no idea why.

I returned to the table
and her head.
I said a small prayer,
then gouging out her beautiful left eye
I began my feast.
_________________
"Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy""

Post Fri Oct 29, 2004 11:57 am   View user's profile Send private message Send e-mail Visit poster's website AIM Address
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