May & June 2019 Writing Submissions [Writing Contests] – Written By Rachel Poli

Rachel Poli provides us with the May/June 2019 writing contests. Thank you very much for all your efforts to keep us updated, Rachel.


Here is the updated list for May & June 2019 writing submissions. I try to find submissions and contests with no fee (or on the cheaper side at least), which is surprisingly hard. As always, if you know any places that run contests and accept general submissions that are not on my list, please let me know and I’ll check it out to add it.

May 2019

Genre: Fiction, Poetry (list of categories are on website)
Website: Writer’s Digest
Deadline: May 6, 2019 (early-bird deadline)
Entry Fee: $20 for Poetry, $30 for manuscript
Prize: Grand – $5,000

Genre: Nonfiction
Theme: Forgiveness
Website: Chicken Soup
Deadline: May 30, 2019
Entry Fee: N/A
Prize: $200

June 2019

Genre: Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry
Website: Writer’s Digest
Deadline: June 3, 2019
Entry Fee: $25 for Poetry, $35 for Manuscript
Prize: Grand – $5,000

Read the entire blog post here

 

4th Halloween Poem Contest – 4th Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander


skeleton dance – by Jasmin T.
the lights in the lab-come
on one two three
Mr. Skeleton shuffles-bows
elegantly-I
do not want tricks
nor treats, she says
Mr. Skeleton does not retreat
music starts-skips
stops and starts again
Mr. Skeleton
dips as moonlight dips
holds his arms like
window panes-framing
his partner as he
shuffles whirls
slow tornado circles
that song-in
her ear she-travels
slips off her shoes
curls her toes
puts her picture
in his frame-she
dances one two three
one two three-doesn’t
mind feeling lonely
as long as the dance
goes on
her eyes close-she
hears the clatter
opens-finds bones
silent again
again

Halloween Poem – by Bruce Louis Dodson

It’s strange about humans
At this time of year
It’s supposed to be scary
But I have no fear
The days of the month do not matter to me
But sometimes it’s strange
The odd things that I see.
Like this thing on the floor
And what’s on the TV
It’s orange and it’s huge
Almost bigger than me.

I don’t have a clue as to why is it here
The same things appear
At the same time each year
Whatever it’s good for is far beyond me
In a couple more months they will bring in a tree.


While Mama Slept – By Elizabeth Jacobson

Oh Halloween! Halloween!
When souls roam no longer unseen
The night of All Hallows Eve
See the dead we grieve
Come home come home
Spend a moment before you roam
Set at the table’s head
A moment we mingle with the dead
With lantern soul lights
Softly quell the fright
No need for vengeance
Just a moment of transience
Staring deeply at the flame
and start the divination game
Look away and back in the mirror
to catch a glimpse of the future
just a little clearer
Teach the children Allhallowtide
To pray for those for whom we’ve cried –those who’ve died
The night of Summer’s end
One last goodbye before they once again descend

Moon Delight – by Larry Sells

Full moon smiles at night
waiting for us to go to sleep
so, he can bare his fangs and
sink them into our necks for
a red liquid meal. We die
a dry fleshly shell. A shell
people cry over and place
into the ground. Their tears
water the plants, which grow.pas
Four faces of the moon attract
his victims. During harvest
season when the vampires, werewolves,
and humans hunt for meat and blood.
Moon gorges itself until it grows
into a huge full moon, which turns dark red.
Harvest Moon, blood moon comes around Halloween
when spirits and other monsters can gather blood
for the full moon, so it can get full
enough to reach Harvest Moon, when the moon becomes full
of blood from people who sleeping or past out fangs
enter the neck either way. The full moon feeds without noise.
The moon rests on the new moon
so, it can feed again on the full moon.

4th Halloween Poem Contest – 3rd Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander


PUMPKIN AND YEW PIE – BY STEVIE TURNER

A rustling of the yew in October’s breeze,
While over her grave it sheds a few leaves.
They rot in the soil with what’s left of her corpse,
Rain drenches the ground where once she had walked.
Burned at the stake in seventeen-o-two,
Jane looks down from the top of the yew.
She wasn’t a witch, and it wasn’t a trick,
She’d learned from her mother how to heal the sick.
Potions, plants, leaves and herbs,
She’d known of their use since she was a girl.
Jane looks to the left at her father’s grave,
After eating the yew leaves nothing could save
An evil man from his just desserts,
She’d felt so relieved as her handful of dirt
Mixed in with her mother’s and banished the hurt.
But as the flames did engulf Jane’s red hair,
The ghost of her father was standing there.
“Like me, in hell you will reside,
I’ll be waiting for you on the other side”.


Is it Time? – by Amy Caudill

Plastic skeletons of varied size,
Pumpkins of sundry hue, with permanent artificial grins
And lights in their eyes,
Rubber bats on string and flocked ravens perching,
Tinsel cats and wired-sheeted ghosts all implore-
Is it time to come out and play?

Little monsters of every style,
Fairy princesses bedecked in their finest and pirates
Clutching fake swords,
Movie heroes and villains poised for action,
Pint-sized demons and Jedi together plead-
Is today the day?

Werewolves prowling under the moon,
Ghouls howling in the attic and goblins
Lurking under bridges,
Vampires slinking in the shadows and
Boogeymen hiding underneath the bed all beseech-
Is it Halloween yet?


In the Haunted House – by V. M. Sang

The wind it blows cold.
Like ice down my back.
I try to be bold,
But courage I lack.
In the haunted house.

It seemed such a lark
When we set off tonight.
But now it’s gone dark
And we shiver with fright
In the haunted house.

Jane said. ‘We’ll have fun
On Hallowe’en night.’
But when solw footsteps come
She screams out in fright
In the haunted house.

‘Let’s take candles, said Pete.
More authentic for light.
And something to eat
If we’re staying all night
In the haunted house.’

Jack thinks it’s a game
Till the candles blow out.
Not one single flame.
He gave a loud shout
In the haunted house.

The temperature sinks.
‘That means ghosts are here,’
Said Pete, who still thinks
There’s nothing to fear
In the haunted house.

The door starts to creak.
It opens so slow.
Our knees feel so weak.
I wish we could go
From the haunted house.

But nothing is there
As we huddle in fear.
Not one of us dare
To get up and peer
In the haunted house.

All night there are groans.
We hear footsteps, we swear,
And the rattle of bones.
Something is there
In the haunted house.

We laugh at our fear
As we make our way home.
In daylight it’s clear
No spirits do roam
In the haunted house.

The noises we heard?
just the sounds of a house
Cooling down, and a bird
Not one single ghost
In the haunted house.


All Hallow’s Eve – by Jade Altair

Carrion feeders flying at bay
Ravens sitting at my door
A pumpkin carved might just may
Show everyone who all this is for

The evening twilights falls upon
all the demons, monsters, more
The moon highlights more down on
The unicorns, fairies, more

Scare or help, trick or treat
Everything begs duality
And as each person comes to meet
Their design shows a mentality

Into darkness we all go
Light the candle, burn the sage
And at the end of our show
We will then see what remains

Let the silky cat come to feed
Let the ravens begin to soar
Let us celebrate and take heed
Of older Hallow’s Eve lore

4th Halloween Poem Contest – 2nd Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander


Halloween Humor – by Joelle Legendre (Floridaborne)

The cat rug lies, with squiggly tail
on concrete floor, with sharpened nail
quietly waiting to impale
the witless human walking by.
.
Do not be fooled, his innocence
is but a ruse with ill intent,
for those not wary will lament
the loss of both their thighs.
.
Do not presume you’ll walk away,
without a severed limb today
and if his mood is foul, he may
scratch out an errant eye.
.
Of course, I jest — my cat is tame,
a Tiny Terror but in name,
who will not strike and make you lame…
unless you steal his food.


A Spectre With No Knees – by Marjorie Mallon

I’ve always been a joker,
But now the joke’s on me,
Death made a fool of me,
Tra la la. Come along and see.

I chose to bike to school,
Each and every day,
Didn’t hear it coming,
‘cause I needed a wee.

My jokes were flattened,
Wheels crushed me on my bike,
Life wiped in an instant,
No more tee hee, hee.

So nothing to do,
But play this game instead,
Every wicked Halloween I follow,
So you’ll remember me.

I don’t need no costume,
No vampire cape, no broom,
I leave the costumiers crashing,
Lamenting like the tormented seas.

I’m a spectre with ease, mingling,
With the laughing living,
A cheeky trick-or-trick am I,
A giggling ghost who likes to tease,

There’s one girl who sees me,
She doesn’t tell a soul,
No one would likely listen,
To her pleading pleas,

I like her. You would too,
I need a friend who’s different,
But sort of same as me,
Kind of a touchy tearaway tease,

She’s a witch dressed in black,
Who brings a creepy cat,
Doesn’t own it, doesn’t matter,
Except for them fierce-some fleas.

‘Purr,’ says the cat, ‘ I’m brutal black,
Like boy’s heart too,
His used to be deep rich red,
Sturdy planted like the trees.’

‘Boo hoo,’ says me, the wraith,
Death has made me cruel,
Jealous, angry, wicked,
From here to where I have no knees.’

Which witch will live this Halloween?
Vampire. Cross the road, survive,
Demon. No one knows but me,
Wizard. Kills, Lives, You’ll see!


Halloween Night With Fairy tales – by Sally Chowdhari

Little miss muffet was on her way,
To buy herself a little more whey.
The shop came close and all her stuff she got,
But instead of returning home she made a quick stop.

At the costume parlour on Halloween night,
Oh how she hated those spider guts,
To take revenge was absolutely right,
And scare him till he got a fright.

Ding dong the bell rang,
What can I get you, Belle sang.
A costume of a birdie in blue is all I ask,
It’s time to get even with my young friend on scare task.

Belle gave her a pearly smile and replied on,” How lovely”
Look we have the perfect thing for you,
Now you go give him a terrifying night,
And then turn him into a stew.

Yes that’s exactly what I am going to do,
Torture him so that he won’t trouble me again.

Tell me beauty how’s your beast,
You two together look so sweet.
Your fairytale is so divine,
And I wish it could be mine.

Hurt and anger clouded belle’s face,
And she went into another flashback of that phase.

Destiny turned him into a man,
But he become a jerk.
You know what!!
He left me for a princess of his worth.

And now I am stuck with Gaston as my hubby,
Who is obsessed with me,
And treats me like a maid,
Plus he makes me pick up his dirty socks and plates.

Oh my darling you deserve so much more,
It’s Halloween so why don’t you teach Beast a lesson.
You trick him, don’t treat him,
Go make him pay.
Destroy his beautiful rose garden,
Then see him go cray cray.

The two let out an evil laugh,
Thinking about the devious plan.
Somebody’s night was about to be wrecked,
And another’s revenge was about to be satisfied.

The rest I can’t tell, as it will affect the young children and make them yell.

While on the other part of the town…..
Somebody came across,
A girl and a wolf,
Who had been quite lost.

The girl grinned,
The wolf looked uneasy,
She took out a beautiful costume,
From a bag brought from Caprese.

Why…. oh why….
The wolf cried,
First you get me shot,
And then you turn me into a baby bot.

Little Miss Riding Hood moved the pram forward,
And the next house she reached,
Belonged to a pretty maiden,
“Trick or treat”, Little Missy shouted.
Out came Cinderella wearing slippers made of chocolate.

I see you have got a big pumpkin tonight,
But don’t you think it should be carved, right?

Well you see,
Cindy sighed,
I picked out the biggest pumpkin from the pumpkin patch,
But with it I got Peter’s woman attached,
She threatned she would Sue me,
If I even cut a slice,
So instead I painted a warning on it….
‘That a monster lives inside’.

Cindy laughed,
Little Missy giggled,
While the wolf cried out in pain,
Therefore a slap on the face is all he got,
As he continued to howl in vain.

The fairytale town was in a lot of mess,
People going mad dressed in red.
The chaos started with just on spark,
By Little Miss Muffet who used to be a sweetheart.

This was a story of our young characters,
Who seem to be enjoying their day from the start.

So my dear little reader,
Now listen to me tight….
They are your sweets and don’t you divide,
Cause Halloween is all about ‘No rules applied’.


Samhain comes – by Jane Dougherty

Dark times are coming on this balmy breath
Of south wind blowing, and the days are brief.
I hear their songs of cold and winter death,
Of weeping with the black despair of grief.
The trees that bow bedraggled by the gale
Roar with the voice of distant oceans dark.
Is that an owl or some lost soul’s last wail,
Laughter I hear or only fox’s bark?
The time is coming when the earth will tip
Into the darkness of cold winter’s reign,
And shadows longing to return will rip
The veils that keep them from our world of pain.
Come softly, candle beckons in the night,
To ease your loneliness in golden light.


 

4th Halloween Poem Contest – 1st Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander


Punkie Night – by Kyt Wright

They’d wander round with spectral light, dressed with intent to cause a fright and once did call it Punkie night,

You modern tricksters ready to receive sweet treats upon All Hallows Eve are mere erzatz witches, no spells to weave.

You go from house to house and door to door with no respect for pagan lore.

Days gone lantern-light there to protect with costumes hiding poor souls from fear that darkness might resurrect some goblin or fiend of foul aspect.

The bravest ventured into the night to banish spectre, ghoul or fearsome wight.

Yes Halloween has a darker mien, our old world had things best left unseen.


A Prelude to Trick-or-Treat – by Ellen L. Buikema 

Running up and down the aisle
Pulling clothing off the rack
I find the Ninja Princess

Pushing metal cart on wheels
Singing loud at all who shop
People raise their eyes amused

Grabbing bags of mini bars
Paying at the register
Coins jingle in my pocket

Staring at bike and basket
Wishing for a vacuum pump
I should don the costume now

Smooshing poofs of fabric down
Flowing over handlebars
Luscious candy calls my name

Lightning bursts above my head
Stuffing goodies in my shirt
Chocolate melts at what degree?

Rushing home to beat the rain
Cascading water drenches
I look down and shake my head

Tearing off wet clothes inside
Trying to hold back my tears
I look about my closet

Hiding on a lower shelf
Smiling unexpected find
Eye patch and matching parrot

Gliding ‘cross the bedroom floor
Winking at the mirror bright
I am the ninja pirate


Halloween – by “AllThingsUncanny

It’s finally Halloween
It’s that time to either cry or scream
It’s when scary creatures reign supreme
Monsters and goblins gobbling up ice cream
Mischievous witches holding their magic beans
On the black carpet glides the headless queen
Leprechauns dancing they call them the thirteen
The ghosts dance too but remain always unseen
Here comes the ghoul tapping on the tambourine
Look there little clowns jumping on the trampoline
It’s the time when vampires come out to scheme
Beasts, ogres, and humans mingling or so it seems
Someone threatens the wolverine with shaving cream
It’s finally Halloween
Make time to be part of a villain’s regime


Samhain’s Song – Etheree, Double Etheree, Etheree – by Colleen M. Chesebro

Glad
children
prepare for
Trick-or-Treat fun,
never really
knowing the truth behind
the festival of Samhain—
where the ancestors arrive home
while we wear costumes to avoid harm
confounding the good souls from the evil.

As
the Veil
thins, we see
remnants of long
lost ancestors and
the good neighbors who sing
hauntingly sweet songs of old.
For those who hear the fairies chant
countless men will agonize and wail,
all for the love of those dulcet sweet sounds.
The Samhain sun descends into the realm
of the underworld where death’s dark lord
no longer controlled by the sun,
walks on the earth unfettered.
Spirits of the long dead
saunter forth, searching
for weary souls
to possess.
Stay safe
now.

Our
bonfires,
lit ablaze,
as red flames leap—
blessing a new year
for all pagans to keep.
While the sun’s journey across
the skies swallow up the bright light,
The lord of darkness reigns unsurpassed
until Beltane’s soft warmth brings back the sun.

3rd Halloween Poem Contest – And The Winners Are…

Picture courtesy of: http://www.google.com

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/

The jury has decided!

Today I’m writing representing the Jury of the 3rd Halloween Poem Contest 2017.

The winners of the contest are:

Chris Graham with “The first Halloween”
Martha Sullivan with “Bless wise old women”
Eva D. R. Force with “Halloween Offerings”

(The winners are listed in order of their submissions)

Thank you so much for your amazing poems, winners! You will get an email today.

______________________________________________

Our three winners of the contest can choose one of the offered e-books.

 

  1. E-Book of either “Three For All” OR “Four One Night” written by Kitt Crescendo
  2. E-book of either one of the three “My Gentle War,“ “The Catalyst,“ OR “Where Angels And Devils Tread,“ written by Joy Lennick
  3. E-book of “The Dark Side Of A Promise,“ written by Allan F. Hudson

 

CONGRATULATIONS!

 

It was a difficult decision for the jury. But we had a lot of fun and wanted to thank all poets for their wonderful poems.

______________________________________________

Thank you, Kitt Crescendo and Joy Lennick for their jury work and offering one of their books to the winners – and of course to Allan F. Hudson who offered his book to pick from as well. I appreciate your help and support!

 

3rd Halloween Poem Contest – Last Group Of Submitted Poems —

 

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

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander

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

Halloween Offerings by Eva D.R.Force

The templates we walk carve our
path in the stone…Polished and smooth
From the rubble of bones

We remember the ghosts
being tossed from their thrones
Hurled in the truncated
Pits of Livation

.The lamplight
….grows dim
Even darkening our stations
I remember the devil with his
Opposing negations

Offering a sweet candy
Poisoned temptation
To mark us bewitched
With his evil predation

Offerings of tempest
The lamp lights grow dim
Calling us out .. all ye
Hallowed night souls
To join in his feast
Of hellish repose

In his seasonal flight
He’s a bat on the wing
With a hanging mans noose
And a grim reapers sting

Now we’ve come full circle
From the pivotal split
Two halves merge as one
The new moon’s sacrament

Devoid of the rift ….
Devoid of the grave..
Devoid of the pit…
Ghost and Goblins parade

As we bond full circle
The pendulum shifts
The passing eclipse.
The ritual at dusk

The trimming of wicks
The tending of oils
The lamplighter musk
The roasting and burning
Of leftover spoils

What the tidal wave brings
In tonight ……Cauldrons boil

All Hallowed , this night
Upon temptuous shores

Stay by the watch
And beware
Lock your doors.

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

 

Vacant Stare by Eric Daniel Clarke

Weather warm a rare blue sky

Indian summer car radio said

No hurry well a bit maybe

Lane not one he often used

Narrow quite bendy too

Passing places a squeeze through

Strange no cars seen either way

Probably it was just his day

All clear it seemed ahead

Rear view mirror given a check

Eyes front swerved right then left

An old lady from nowhere there

He’d swear she’d just appeared

No movement just a vacant stare

Grey clad from head to foot

Of this age no way that look

Drove on his head turned back

No sign gone as quick as that

Cold sweat his heart beat fast

Foot to pedal scared disturbed

Got to where he needed to be

Picked up just what he had to

Went home a different route

Behind door a sigh he breathed

That week the local paper lead

Ghost of Cock Lane seen again

Old men rubbed their chins

Recalled stories of lives taken

Up to then it had been five

Sixth year one each decade

Found at home last day October

Staring cold breathing no longer

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

Adam by Lisa Reynolds
Adam left Starbucks,
skeleton outfit in a plastic bag,
met his older brother Glen
like always.
“I literally can’t wait
for this fancy dress tonight.
Jason Miller will be there.”
He winked to Glen that
tonight was the night he would
finally win Jason’s heart
even as a skeleton.
Adam seen
Glen rush by on the other
side of the road,
“Running late to meet my brother”,
he heard him explain to
an old woman and her dog.
Before he knew it,
a hand was over his mouth and
he was dragged down a dark alley
never to be seen again.

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

This is the last group of submissions.

We have seen so many wonderful, scary, amazing and spooky Halloween-themed poems. Thank you all for participating.

The jury will go to work soon and find the three winners. 

Thank you a for your patience!

 A. J. Alexander

3rd Halloween Poem Contest – 5th Group Of Submitted Poems —

 

 

 

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

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander

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

Bless Wise Old Women by Martha Sullivan
Women, it’s true, had a gift so rare
for healing with herbs and plants and flare.
Folks would visit deep in the wood
where molds and mushrooms and gardens stood.
Some women were toothless, with humps on their backs,
aged and experienced; not useless, not lax.
They were trusted and honored by women and men,
who were healed by concoctions again and again.
But something did happen, the papacy stewed:
“Paying attention to women is nothing but rude.
All eyes to the Latin, all eyes here to Rome,
all eyes to the papal reach, wherever you call home.”
The pope did order, with a stroke of his pen,
in 1320 to banish herb-knowing women.
“Going forward it is listed, heresy is witchcraft,
a religion that is evil.   Those women are daft.”
“We must persecute them, devil worship they do,
and practice black magic, using poisons – it’s true!”
“Send out my Inquisitors to capture the hags,
and drowned those old women in rock-laden bags.”
“If they sink, they are innocent; if they rise up they are not.
But use rocks of the heaviest, damn those who we’ve got.”
So began “The Great Persecution” at a feverish pitch.
Not a single hag left – not a single old witch.
But in the recess of memory these women remain,
and yearly their honored though forgotten by name.
With a conical hat and a cape that is black,
joyful children renounce the papacy’s hack.
So bless wise, old, women, whose knowledge did heal.
Let’s honor those witches whose bodies did squeal,
with pain and horror at the hands of the few,
whose hatred of women they did viciously spew.

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

On the Thirty First by Pamela S. Wight

Dark is night, night is just right

As I set my broom aside

with a thought so candle bright

My glowing eyes I can’t hide.

On the date of this fall month

I’m allowed to be my self

even eating my best lunch –

can of worm warts on the shelf.

But maybe I’ll surprise them

My witch cousins and witch friend

I’ll knock on doors because I can

Pretend to be a small human.

I’ll forget my nightly haunts

For this one special fun time

Neglect my night’s sky-filled jaunts

Instead listen for door chimes.

I’ll dress up like a robot

Or maybe a movie star

Collect yummy candy – lots

Walking sidewalks near and far.

Tonight I am not a witch

I switch roles and use my feet

hoping for no surprise glitch

as trick or treaters I meet.

I hide my twelve toes with shoes

Third eye is under a hat

My high shrill voice yells Boo BOO

Kids scream and so does a cat.

My bun of black hair escapes

And my pointy ears pop out

WITCH! someone yells with fear, hate

Suddenly I’m full of doubt

Guess I can’t be who I’m not

Not tied to the ground like them

I laugh and sprint past the tot

Glad I can fly like a wren.

“Boomer!” I yell and she flies

To my hands, my pal, my broom

I screech and scream out “good bye!”

As we fly toward the full moon.

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

 

IT’S ALIVE by Susanne Leist

 

I wake from a deep sleep.

The pounding of my heart

Cuts through the stillness.

A sound hits my ears.

A creak that does not belong.

I am not alone.

I peek across the room.

To a shelf up high.

A puppet sits there.

Eyes glowing in the darkness.

Lifelike in its wooden body.

Evil in its demonic grin.

Then it speaks.

In a deep voice.

“Time to play,” it says.

I run to the door.

No!

It’s standing before me

In the hallway.

Arms reaching for me,

A gleam in its black eyes.

It can’t be.

But it is.

It’s alive.

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

 

Three little witches by Emily F. Seirup

 

The Sisters of The Light

Kindered souls burning bright,

with laughter and delight

and youthful grins and cheeping chirps,

nimble fingers and baby toesies,

the cutest baby burps

and the sweetest button noseies.

“Haiiiah, ay ya, ay ya, namma amma mamma”,

the little one did sing,

“Ayala, which sandwiches did you bring?”

Ayala, the oldest so calm so wise

for only eleven,

said “I brought turkey, and seven.

They’re little finger sandwiches

all three of us can share”,

as she pushed back her long blonde hair.

“What did the angels say

when you talked to the turkey my sister,

was she a she or was he a mister?”

“Halaya he was a happy little turkey

in love with a goat,

of all the silly things the turkey could dote,

he loved his life and had plenty of friends,

a beautiful bird who met his fate

at this glorious end,

to feed us and nourish us Sisters us three,

for fate has chosen our webs hand in hand,

a happy at last I’d agree!”

“Did he laugh at the goat

and have good food to eat,

because it’s important to us

when we choose our meat,

as Mommy always says, the future depends,

on healing through bonds

that love always mends,

for with love and with light

we accept each other in unity alright.”

“That’s right Taokoya, we’re here to heal,

to come together in life and love at every meal.”

“Aayyyaa, Ayala Ayala”, Halaya squealed

as they rounded the bend before the field,

“and the fruit, their records of yield unsealed?

The fruit She grows so high and mighty

from our Mother Aphrodite,

the sun the light encased so bright

and packed so tight

in fruit that bursts my bubbles

in flavor with sugars that shines in doubles

and rainbows galore,

I could eat fruit forever more and never bore.”

“The angels cry for you

Sweet Halaya sister so dear”,

Taokoya said as the field was near,

“at forests end we can’t pretend

that our food doesn’t count

so much for what to we amount

as we prepared our lunch

and our somethings to munch

for this amazing brunch,

we thank the heavens for all we have received,

as we give and are grateful to be relieved

by the universe so grand so divinely vast,

we thank the future and forgive the past

for whatever happened last,

to move on and unite in harmony and peace,

for these bodies, this lifetime,

this being is on lease.”

A moment of silence between the three witches,

as they thank the universe

for their own personal niches,

they seek out their spot for their picnic

while skipping and laughing all the way,

these wise little witches who have learned

the calm but love to run jump and play!

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

‘Bout Hallow’s Eve by P.J. Enzman

 

Who? Who? Who?

The owl calls for you.

As shadows creep and flowers weep,

The frost crawls on the morning dew.

 

BOO BOO BOO

The ghost calls for you!

The doors creak and hauntings seep

Into graveyards, through and through…

 

Eek! Eek! Eek!

The trees are gray and bleak.

The bats have flown and crows condone

The Trick-or-Treat stuck in their beaks!

 

Shriek, shriek, shriek!

The witches spells are tweaked.

Beware the sight of dark at night,

And witch’s crafty sneak.

 

Moan…Moan…Moan…

Remember you’re not alone.

Ghouls and zombies lurking-

Hear their dire tone.

 

Groan, groan, groan…

It chills you to the bone.

The leave are falling and winter’s calling,

to the grave or depths unknown.

 

Shout! Shout! Shout!

Make sure there is not doubt!

Your costume shows you’re not afraid,

You know what Halloween’s about!

 

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

This is the fifth group of submissions. In the meantime there won’t be any more poems accepted. The jury will decide on the winners soon. Thank you for your patience.
A. J. Alexander

3rd Halloween Poem Contest – Hurry up! 1 Day Left!

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/eco-quartier/eco-tips-for-halloween/

 

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

Deadline for the contest is

October 31, 2017 – 9 pm Central Standard Time

Hurry up!

 

Every author and poet are invited to participate and deliver a “Halloween-Poem” to my email address:

aurorajean.alexander@aol.com

together with their picture and a link to their website, a social media account or blog

1. Your poem needs a Halloween theme.
2. Your poem needs a minimum of 99 words.
3. Your poem has to be delivered to my email address until Halloween, October 31, 2015, 9 pm Central Standard Time.
4. Please avoid violence, bad language, and sexual content within the poems. It would be disqualified.

 

Thank you very much for participating and make it very hard for the jury to decide on the winners!

 

3rd Halloween Poem Contest – 4th Group Of Submitted Poems —

Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/eco-quartier/eco-tips-for-halloween/

 

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

Please respect each authors’ and poets’ copyright. The rights remain with the writers. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from each of the poems author’s is strictly prohibited and violates copyright laws in the country you are reading this work in as well as in the country you are trying to re-publish this work in. – Aurora Jean Alexander

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

“Haunts the mind” written by Russell Holder

 

There has never been any odd sighs from Creaking
Woods…
the place of gnarled branches and rustling of
leaves,
this place despised for the discourse of dank
boundaries,
a place to disturb childish fears on All Hallows
Eve,
there a space of shadow’s refraction, of darkness
and light,
where the slightest sounds magnified from forest’s
canopied eaves,
the lights of sullen spirits of past in the present
to moan-
the sudden chill dampens the living of warmth,
a stillness to relieve,
goose-bumps to linger, bristled hairs does it raise…
along with tales of the dead, bemoaned and
buggered spirits,
the skin which would crawl from mere mention to
flinch and then pucker,
no odd sighs but sure shrieks and taunt nipples
as flits,
stealthy, the spectral beings dance fro and to
disembodied music,
the scene is of one that haunts the mind prone
to such fits…
this where bark rubs bark, to sound echoes of
tree’d hollow drums,
this merging medley to fears of both natural
and unnatural wonder,
the senses overwhelmed… set on heel to this
odd bounty of soul,
so we would revel in these things… things that
can’t hurt us by blunder,
ghosts may pierce our bodies and would yet
then fly through,
it is the lightening we see but then shake
from the thunder,
contain not the child but the fears that we
have of our past…
no stolen youth, misspent, it is that which
yields to tricks,
nature is a fine trickster herself… the simple
made marvelous at our feet,
the bones as they’re scared… don’t they rattle
and we hear creaks,
no… the hung man still sits there conducting
the symphony,
and it is from those thoughts… our fears, our
mind and our ticks.

I wish you all a safe Halloween. This was originally written for
Halloween 2013. Also a reblog, from LinkedIn, in a group of two,
called “Poe Moments.”
https://www.linkedin.com/groups/6606022/6606022-5931485117657657344

 

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

 

The Whistlers by Ellen Best

 

I catch a noise before I sleep

The whistlers skulk about

Spreading fear skin deep.

Chirruping secret calls,

Hiding behind garden walls.

Disturbing young girls dreams

I wake with terrifying screams.

I pull a quilt over my head,

Hide a torch beneath the bed.

Prepare to fight for my life

I take Mum’s vegetable knife.

It’s old and blunt, bent a bit

She stabs at spuds in the pot

To ascertain if they are hot.

Armed, I squeeze Emma tight,

Her yellow suit warm and bright

She comforts me as I hum

a lulluby learned from Mum.

Doll and me are doing fine

Until music starts keeping time.

Through the crack, behind the bed

I hear the tune, inside my head,

Sweet and soft hardly heard.

Matching me word for word.

Spuriously stuffing notes in a sack

My sleep is wrestled into the black.

Sheets tangle around my legs,

Like on a line round Mummy’s pegs.

I can’t escape, I scream at last,

Sodden sheets and whitened mask.

Tapping her foot beside my bed

Mummy glares, shakes her head.

washed and clean no longer soiled

Tea is made

Once the

whistling kettle’s

boiled.

 

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

This is only the fourth group of submissions. Please, keep them coming and make it really hard for the jury to decide on the winners!
A. J. Alexander