Tag Archives: Horror

Why Poems Make Bad Horror Movie Adaptations

Imagine a street,

Dark and quiet.

Something moves

But you can’t quite spy it…

Dissonant soundtrack

Fades to naught

And from the dark…


Yeah… jump scare loses something…

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Fixer-Upper Relationships

Why yes indeed,

I rode my steed

To do the deed

Of rescue.

For a maiden fair

I did ride there,

My only care

To rescue.

I slayed the foe

That guards her, though

I only did so

To rescue

That stolen dame.

I would lay claim

To lass and fame

Through rescue.

The door open wide

I rushed inside

To where she does reside

To rescue.

When I did, I saw

A girl with bloody maw

Holding a chainsaw.

Now my rescue

Seemed quite in doubt.

As it turns out

Well, could you help me out?

I need rescue.

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Why My Fitness Starts In February

He’s running backwards on the treadmill,

She’s failing to do a squat,

And that guy with the free weights

Is doing who know’s what.

They try not to laugh at her

And not to stare at him.

It’s every fit guy’s nightmare:

January at the gym.

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Fun-Size Anarchy

On this costumed Friday night
Prepare for that horrific sight
Of children walking down the street,
Threatening those who give no treat.

They’ve covered faces so you can’t see
Who are the ghouls you must ID,
And if they wear a “Frozen” dress
There are too many kids to guess.

So I placed upon my lawn
A maw to gape and a portal to yawn
To terrify all children who
Thought me a target of their coup.

I thought my safety was a sure thing.
Then the doorbell gave a ring.
‘Twas the Fantastic Four
Minus “the Thing.”

I thought to tell them “go away,”
But I knew TP would be my pay,
So I opened up my chocolate stash
And let the heroes loot my cache.

The sun had set, the clouds were gone
And the mob raged on and on.
Soon I’d no chocolate to give,
And I prayed that through the night I’d live.

Then eight soft footsteps reached my door
The doorbell rang, I knew for sure
My time had come, my fate was clear
As I opened the door for a herd of deer.

“Trick or Treat” the children shrieked,
As their loot bags bulged and noses leaked.
I handed out four boxes of floss,
And resigned myself to serenity’s loss.

What I didn’t know was just how fast
That heard of deer got the word passed
That the beige-house-guy on the grass knoll
Was some sort of a dentist… Mole.

And thus the mob departed fast,
And I had my peace at last.
I fall asleep and dreams appear
Of the toothbrushes I’ll give next year.

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Anything But That!

Putrid lasers fill the air
At the annual super villain’s fair.
Cackles dance among the stars
As they network and blow up cars.

And I look on with quiet glee,
Knowing the evilest of all is me.
I will release a weapon of dire stress:
A letter from the IRS.

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