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13 Halloween Poems That Will Creep You Out In A Good Way

It’s the spook-spookiest time of the yr! Rejoice all-things Halloween literary type with these thirteen creepy poems!

1. “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

“The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” is a well known British Romantic epic poem. A sailor who has returned from an extended sea voyage tells of his escapades to a fellow visitor at a wedding. The wedding visitor’s response turns from bemusement to impatience to worry and eventually fascination because the mariner’s story progresses. In this specific part, lifeless sailors rise up and begin crusing the boat once more:

“The thick black cloud was cleft, and nonetheless

The Moon was at its aspect:

Like waters shot from some high crag,

The lightning fell with never a jag,

A river steep and extensive.

The loud wind by no means reached the ship,

Yet now the ship moved on!

Beneath the lightning and the Moon

The lifeless males gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, all of them uprose,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;

It had been strange, even in a dream,

To have seen those lifeless males rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;

Yet never a breeze up-blew;

The mariners all ‘gan work the ropes,

Where they have been wont to do;

They raised their limbs like lifeless instruments—

We have been a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother’s son

Stood by me, knee to knee:

The body and I pulled at one rope,

However he stated nought to me.”

2. “I Felt A Funeral, In My Brain” by Emily Dickinson

In terms of Emily Dickinson poems, it’s onerous to decide on only one that stands out as the creepiest—but “I Felt A Funeral, In My Brain” features some notably darkish and disturbing imagery. Read until the top—that’s the place it gets really creepy.

“I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners backward and forward

Stored treading – treading – until it appeared

That Sense was breaking by way of –

And once they all have been seated,

A Service, like a Drum –

Stored beating – beating – until I assumed

My mind was going numb –

And then I heard them carry a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, once more,

Then Area – started to toll,

As all the Heavens have been a Bell,

And Being, however an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, right here –

After which a Plank in Purpose, broke,

And I dropped down, and down –

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished figuring out – then –”

three. “The Hollow Men” by T.S. Eliot

“The Hollow Men” by T. S. Eliot is probably most well-known for its last four strains:

“This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”

The poem itself is haunting, dealing with post-World Conflict I Europe, the problem of hope and non secular conversion and even Eliot’s personal failed marriage. “The Hollow Men” follows the otherworldly journey of the spiritually lifeless, realizing their guilt and standing as misplaced, damaged souls. These first few strains illustrate how superbly darkish this poem will get:

“We’re the hole men
We’re the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece full of straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ ft over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Form with out type, shade without color,
Paralysed drive, gesture without motion;

Those that have crossed
With direct eyes, to dying’s other Kingdom
Keep in mind us—if at all—not as misplaced
Violent souls, but solely
Because the hollow men
The stuffed males.”

Source: Dana Larson

four. “Her Strong Enchantments Failing” by A.E. Housman

Most of A.E. Housman’s, a classical scholar and emotionally withdrawn man, lyrical poems evoked dooms and disappointments of youth within the English countryside. “Her Strong Enchantments Failing” undoubtedly falls into that “doom” class—be sure that to read the whole thing of the poem (it’s a brief one!) to get probably the most impression from the chilling remaining line:

“Her robust enchantments failing,
Her towers of worry in wreck,
Her limbecks dried of poisons
And the knife at her neck,

The Queen of air and darkness
Begins to shrill and cry,
“O young man, O my slayer,
To-morrow you shall die.”

O Queen of air and darkness,
I feel ’tis fact you say,
And I shall die tomorrow;
However you’ll die to-day.”

Source: Ancient OriginsSource: Historic Origins

5. “Dead Man’s Hate” by Robert Ervin Howard

Robert Ervin Howard is greatest recognized for his career writing pulp novels, creating the character of Conan the Barbarian, and is extensively considered the daddy of the sword and sorcery sub-genre. Howard typically wrote tales of monsters, which was true even in his poetry:

“They hanged John Farrel in the dawn amid the marketplace;
At dusk came Adam Brand to him and spat upon his face.
“Ho neighbors all,” spake Adam Model, “see ye John Farrel’s fate!
“Tis proven right here a hempen noose is stronger than man’s hate!

For heard ye not John Farrel’s vow to be avenged upon me
Come life or demise? See how he hangs excessive on the gallows tree!”
Yet by no means a word the individuals spoke, in worry and wild surprise-
For the grisly corpse raised up its head and stared with sightless eyes,

And with strange motions, sluggish and stiff, pointed at Adam Brand
And clambered down the gibbet tree, the noose inside its hand.
With gaping mouth stood Adam Brand like a statue carved of stone,
Till the lifeless man laid a clammy hand arduous on his shoulder bone.

Then Adam shrieked like a soul in hell; the purple blood left his face
And he reeled away in a drunken run via the screaming market place;
And close behind, the lifeless man came with a face like a mummy’s mask,
And the lifeless joints cracked and the stiff legs creaked with their unwonted activity.

Males fled earlier than the flying twain or shrank with bated breath,
They usually noticed on the face of Adam Model the seal set there by demise.
He reeled on buckling legs that failed, yet on and on he fled;
So via the shuddering market-place, the dying fled the lifeless.

On the riverside fell Adam Brand with a scream that lease the skies;
Across him fell John Farrel’s corpse, nor ever the twain did rise.
There was no wound on Adam Brand however his brow was chilly and damp,
For the worry of demise had blown out his life as a witch blows out a lamp.

His lips have been writhed in a horrid grin like a fiend’s on Devil’s coals,
And the lads that appeared on his face that day, his stare nonetheless haunts their souls.
Such was the destiny of Adam Brand, a wierd, unearthly destiny;
For stronger than demise or hempen noose are the fires of a lifeless man’s hate.”

Source: YouTubeSupply: YouTube

6. “La Belle Dame Sans Merci” by John Keats

“La Belle Dame sans Merci” (French for “The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy”) is a story of affection and demise set in a bleak winter landscape. The gorgeous woman titles the poem is a femme fatale who attracts lovers solely to destroy them by her supernatural powers. This poem could have you questioning if the person in the poem has been abducted by a fairy-lover, or if the fairy / lovely woman has truly kidnapped the person—and simply what sort of kinky stuff is occurring between them? Read on for Keats at his wildest and creepiest:

“O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s executed.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a woman within the meads,
Full lovely—a faery’s baby,
Her hair was long, her foot was mild,
And her eyes have been wild.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She checked out me as she did love,
And made candy moan

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day lengthy,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery’s music.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And positive in language unusual she stated—
‘I love thee true’.

She took me to her Elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
The newest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill aspect.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale have been they all;
They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!’

I noticed their starved lips within the gloam,
With horrid warning gapèd broad,
And I awoke and located me here,
On the chilly hill’s aspect.

And for this reason I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.”

Source: Wikimedia / John William WaterhouseSource: Wikimedia / John William Waterhouse

7. “Outcast” by Claude McKay

In this poem by Claude McKay, the horrors will not be supernatural, but as an alternative all to painfully actual, even right now.  “Outcast” details what it’s wish to be black in a deeply racist world:

“For the dim regions whence my fathers came
My spirit, bondaged by the body, longs.
Words felt, but never heard, my lips would body;
My soul would sing forgotten jungle songs.

I might return to darkness and to peace,
However the great western world holds me in charge,
And I’ll by no means hope for full release
Whereas to its alien gods I bend my knee.

One thing in me is lost, endlessly lost,
Some very important factor has gone out of my coronary heart,
And I need to walk the way of life a ghost
Among the many sons of earth, a factor aside;
For I used to be born, far from my native clime,
Beneath the white man’s menace, out of time.”

Source: CommonwhealSupply: Commonwheal

8. “Mad Girl’s Love Song” by Sylvia Plath

In preserving with the real-life horrors theme, Sylvia Plath’s battle with psychological illness has been well-documented. “Mad Girl’s Love Song” provides an intimate take a look at mental sickness, hallucinations and younger love, along with a cameo from seraphim and Devil’s henchmen. Let this one sink in as you’re taking your time to read it:

“I shut my eyes and all of the world drops lifeless;
I raise my lids and all is born again.
(I feel I made you up inside my head.)

The celebs go waltzing out in blue and purple,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops lifeless.

I dreamed that you simply bewitched me into mattress
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I feel I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops lifeless.

I fancied you’d return the best way you stated,
However I develop previous and I overlook your identify.
(I feel I made you up inside my head.)

I ought to have beloved a thunderbird as an alternative;
A minimum of when spring comes they roar again again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops lifeless.
(I feel I made you up inside my head.)”

Source: YouTubeSource: YouTube

9.  “Ulalume” by Edgar Allan Poe

It wouldn’t be Halloween with out some point out of Edgar Allen Poe! Very similar to a couple of of Poe’s other poems (corresponding to “The Raven,” “Annabel Lee,” and “Lenore”), “Ulalume” focuses on the narrator’s lack of a phenomenal lady as a consequence of her premature dying. Good for Halloween, this poem takes place on a night within the “lonesome October” with a grey sky as the leaves are withering for the autumn season. Listed here are a number of of the extra chilling choices:

“The skies they have been ashen and sober;

The leaves they have been crispéd and sere—

The leaves they have been withering and sere;

It was night time within the lonesome October

Of my most immemorial yr;

It was exhausting by the dim lake of Auber,

In the misty mid area of Weir—

It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,

In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

(…)

Our speak had been critical and sober,

But our ideas they have been palsied and sere—

Our reminiscences have been treacherous and sere—

For we knew not the month was October,

And we marked not the night time of the yr—

(Ah, night time of all nights in the yr!)

We noted not the dim lake of Auber—

(Though as soon as we had journeyed down right here)—

We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,

Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

(…)

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,

And tempted her out of her gloom—

And conquered her scruples and gloom:

And we handed to the top of the vista,

However have been stopped by the door of a tomb—

By the door of a legended tomb;

And I stated—”What’s written, sweet sister,

On the door of this legended tomb?”

She replied—”Ulalume—Ulalume—

‘Tis the vault of thy misplaced Ulalume!”

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober

Because the leaves that have been crispèd and sere—

As the leaves that have been withering and sere,

And I cried—”It was certainly October

On this very night time of final yr

That I journeyed—I journeyed down here—

That I brought a dread burden down right here—

On this night time of all nights in the yr,

Oh, what demon has tempted me right here?

Properly I do know, now, this dim lake of Auber—

This misty mid area of Weir—

Properly I do know, now, this dank tarn of Auber—

In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.”

Stated we, then—the two, then—”Ah, can it

Have been that the woodlandish ghouls—

The pitiful, the merciful ghouls—

To bar up our method and to ban it

From the secret that lies in these wolds—

From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds—

Had drawn up the spectre of a planet

From the limbo of lunary souls—

This sinfully scintillant planet

From the Hell of the planetary souls?”

Source: Adelaide.eduSupply: Adelaide.edu

10. “Goblin Market” by Christina Rossetti

In this slightly-NSFW narrative poem by Christina Rossetti (which was illustrated by her brother, the Pre-Raphaelite artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti), two close sisters, Laura and Lizzie, make a wierd cope with a gaggle of goblin merchants. This long poem packs a wallop of creepiness, together with grotesque goblin imagery, incestuous homo-eroticism and a horrifying forcible fruit-eating scene. A number of the more creepier passages are included under:

Giggle’d every goblin

Once they spied her peeping:

Got here in the direction of her hobbling,

Flying, operating, leaping,

Puffing and blowing,

Chuckling, clapping, crowing,

Clucking and gobbling,

Mopping and mowing,

Filled with airs and graces,

Pulling wry faces,

Demure grimaces,

Cat-like and rat-like,

Ratel- and wombat-like,

Snail-paced in a hurry,

Parrot-voiced and whistler,

Helter skelter, hurry skurry,

Chattering like magpies,

Fluttering like pigeons,

Gliding like fishes,—
(…)

Aware of Jeanie:

“Give me a lot and lots of: —

Held out her apron,

Toss’d them her penny.

“Nay, sit with us,

Honour and eat with us,”

They reply’d grinning:

“Our feast is however beginning.

Night time but is early,

Warm and dew-pearly,

Wakeful and starry:

Such fruits as these

No man can carry:

Half their bloom would fly,

Half their dew would dry,

Half their flavour would cross by.

Sit down and feast with us,

Be welcome guest with us,

Cheer you and rest with us.”—

Source: Wikimedia CommonsSupply: Wikimedia Commons

11. “Love in the Asylum” by Dylan Thomas

“Love In The Asylum” by Dylan Thomas can function a type of companion piece to the Plath poem, together with comparable hallucinations of frantic love. Plus, all of it takes place in an asylum, simply to up the creepy issue!

“A stranger has come
To share my room in the home not proper within the head,
A woman mad as birds

Bolting the night time of the door together with her arm her plume.
Strait within the mazed mattress
She deludes the heaven-proof house with getting into clouds

Yet she deludes with strolling the nightmarish room,
At giant because the lifeless,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.

She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive mild by way of the bouncing wall,
Possessed by the skies

She sleeps in the slender trough yet she walks the dust
Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn skinny by my walking tears.

And brought by mild in her arms at lengthy and pricey final
I’ll with out fail
Endure the primary vision that set hearth to the celebs.”

Source: Beaming NotesSupply: Beaming Notes

12. “Reapers” by Jean Toomer

This brief poem doesn’t want many stanzas to realize its scary impact. might at first look appear innocuous, but it is truly a quite foreboding poem that isn’t solely eerie, but in addition accommodates numerous symbolism about race and violence in American society.

Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones

Are sharpening scythes. I see them place the hones

In their hip-pockets as a thing that’s carried out,

And begin their silent swinging, one after the other.

Black horses drive a mower via the weeds,

And there, a area rat, startled, squealing bleeds.

His belly near floor. I see the blade,

Blood-stained, continue chopping weeds and shade.

13. “The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats

“The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats is a poem based mostly on Irish legend about faeries beguiling a toddler to return away with them. Nevertheless it’s not simply the kidnapping and implied homicide of a kid that makes this poem so creepy… it’s how tempting Yeats makes going off to fairyland sound!

“The place dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood within the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats.
There we’ve hid our fairy vats
Filled with berries,
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O, human youngster!
To the woods and waters wild
With a fairy hand in hand,
For the world’s more filled with weeping than
you’ll be able to perceive.

The place the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with mild,
Far off by farthest Rosses
We foot it all of the night time,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling palms, and mingling glances,
Till the moon has taken flight;
Backward and forward we leap,
And chase the frothy bubbles,
Whereas the world is filled with troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away! O, human youngster!
To the woods and waters wild,
With a fairy hand in hand,
For the world’s extra filled with weeping than
you’ll be able to perceive.

The place the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Automotive,
In pools among the many rushes,
That scarce might bathe a star,
We search for slumbering trout,
And whispering in their ears;
We give them evil goals,
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Of dew on the young streams.
Come! O, human youngster!
To the woods and waters wild,
With a fairy hand in hand,
For the world’s more filled with weeping then
you’ll be able to perceive.

Away with us, he’s going,
The solemn-eyed;
He’ll hear no extra the lowing
Of the calves on the nice and cozy hill-side.
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast;
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and around the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human youngster,
To the woods and waters wild,
With a fairy hand in hand,
For the world’s extra filled with weeping than
he can understand.”

Source: Bibliophilia ObscuraSupply: Bibliophilia Obscura

I don’t find out about you, but I’ve chills! Bust out any of those creeptastic, eerie poems at your Halloween get-together and it’s positive to be successful! Candy goals!

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Featured Picture by way of Pixabay

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