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Halloween poems


Photo © 2009, Ethan Nahté

For Halloween (a.k.a. Samhain) I have decided to share three all-ages friendly horror poems. Hope you enjoy them & happy haunting.

“Death Rides by a Comanche Moon

Upon the darkened prairie
a Comanche Moon shines,
rising from the horizon
and a swath of yellow pines.

Rousted from the tall grass
where buffaloes once roamed
are rabbits, quail and bob whites
from the safety of their homes.

The ground doth tremble
and the earth doth quake.
Advancing shadows from the forest
disrupt the peaceful state.

Grasshoppers fly from their perch.
Wolves bound out of sight.
Something deadly stalks the prairie
shedding blood on the moon this night.

A small village sits quietly
unexpecting and serene,
oblivious to the violence
encroaching onto the scene.

The rumble of hooves stampeding
crashes through night’s air.
A mongrel sounds the alert -
the guard stands prepared.

The slumbering village stirs awake
as a great horned owl cries out.
Men prepare and brace for battle
to a din of shots and shouts.

The attack is quick and ruthless.
The predators slaughter their prey.
Soldiers -  murdering natives,
a peaceful camp they do slay.

A sabre runs through a mother’s back
and skewers a little child.
A shot in the face of a father
with a rifle the range of a mile.

Off with the head of an old man
blind and wandering free.
A slug to the heart of a brave
who wanted naught but serenity.

Silvery light of the night
melts to crimson red
as the white man’s horse
tramples the injured and dead.

Cavalry using lessons and tactics
from the Comanche tribes.
Taking advantage of a brilliant moon,
tearing down the Red Man’s lives.

Swords and rifles flash
fatally destroying a tribe.
Orders from the government
condoning the genocide.

Upon the darkened prairie
a Comanche Moon shines,
dipping into the blood on the horizon
leaving carnage for vultures to dine.

© 2009, Ethan Nahté


Gloomy afternoon @ the Wonder House (© 2008, Ethan Nahté)

“The Manor”

Whispers and creaking
echo throughbarren halls.
Lightning casts shadows
through a furious squall.

Coldness seeps
across dusty floors.
Shutters pound
and anxiety soars.

What lurks in this manor
on a desolate hill?
What form doth it take
of he who will kill?

A vigilant search
for his victim to be.
The evil within
is easy to see.

Past broken down doors
and rotted walls,
a glimpse of his prey
doth cause him to stall.

Sneaking… sneaking… sneaking…
through a dark room.
The air is rancid,
filled with gloom.

In a cobwebbed corner of a dank, musty closet,
clad in a blood red dress with tattered white trim,
cowers a tearful and sad apparition
of the killer’s deceased girlfriend.

A ghostly hand reaches out…
a feeling of dread and doubt.

© 2008, Ethan Nahté


Photo by Fedegrafo

Rose & Thorns”

There she sat upon a bench,
a rose in full bloom
with skin soft as petals
standing out against the gloom.

Eyes that glisten like dewdrops
upon a green leaf.
This beauty I must have
to stir me from my grief.

To garner her interest,
A soft spoken word here.
To gain her sympathy,
A generous gesture there.

To my humble abode
she doth follow,
filling the space in my breast
which has long been hollow.

Her tender kisses
moist upon my lips.
The scent of her long hair
stroked by my fingertips.

Her eyes so hypnotic
tugging at emotions and my mind.
The cool embrace
slows down time.

Candlelight flickers, casting shadows.
I can feel her mouth’s caress
nibbling at my neck
As I unzip the back of her dress.

My breath sweet and warm
blowing softly in her ear.
She wraps her arms around me
and holds me so dear.

The hold becomes a clutch.
Her eyes become ablaze.
I’m lost in a fog.
My mind is like a maze.

Her head moves forward,
I see her raven hair.
The prick of the rose’s thorns,
yet I do not care.

Her pale, cool skin
grows fervent and blush,
the essence of my life
is flowing with a rush.

The thorns dig deeper
and my beauty has her hold.
I sought her for my passion
but the hunt was two-fold.

A victim I was
of a sordid heart
and to the rose with thorns
I am simply a la cart.

© 2009, Ethan Nahté

 
For more info: These three poems are from the chapbook “Devil's Den & Other Macabre Thoughts.” The book includes three short horror stories in addition to the poems. For inquiries about the book, please contact Nahteboy@livenloud.net.

Comments

  • Trina 4 years ago

    These are so good, I had to save them to show to friends. Keep up the good work.

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