I love horror. Horror movies, horror stories, haunted shit, all that jazz. In one of my articles, I mentioned that I believed in ghosts, that I lived in a haunted house when I lived in Nevada, that I'm pretty damn sure that I've seen ghosts, etc. So, I got a crap ton of good ideas for articles to write, of course, all of them circling around the subject of horror. I'll be writing articles about horror stories, horror stories that I wrote, spooky stories that I've experienced, scary rituals, horror movie ratings, etc. I guess you could say that I'm making a collection of horror articles now, so I'll actually make a collection on my canvas for all this horror stuff along with adding it to my article collection.

This is the first horror article I'm writing, and it'll be filled with horror poetry and horror stories and stuff that I've written in my free time over the last few years. They're probably all very cringe so enjoy that!


The Clap Clap

artsy, smoke, and pointy image

Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
Don’t worry, on the window, a tree is tapping
Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
Don’t worry, on the floor, your dog is napping
Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
Don’t worry, on the window, a raven is rapping
Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
Don’t worry, the shower curtain’s flapping

Can you hear that? That mocking snickering?
It’s okay, it’s the candle’s flickering
Listen closely, I hear pity crying
It’s okay, it’s the wind that’s dying
Wait, can you hear that calling?
Don’t roll your head, it’s a bug that’s crawling
Listen, can you hear that roaring?
Oh, it’s okay, it’s the rain that’s pouring

Listen, hear that painful screaming?
Nevermind, it’s the moon that’s gleaming
Can you hear that animal chewing?
Keep your head, it’s the shadows undoing
Hear that? That horrid choking?
Don’t lose your mind, it’s a frog that’s croaking

Listen, can you hear that silent shrieking?
Don’t go insane, it’s your door that is creaking
Don’t you hear that? That very loud dancing?
It’s alright, up the stairs he is prancing
Can’t you hear lonely bawling?
Just stay calm, down your hall he is crawling
Do you remember that unpleasant recalling?
By your bedroom door, he is stalling
Have you ever felt a powerful yearning?
Your door handle, he is turning
With cold dead eyes that terrorize
And a mouth that is sewn shut
He opens your door and he walks in with a limp little strut

He looks at his claws that are stained red
And waits for what is said
You cover your eyes and you try to hide under your bed covers
But it’s too late now, because in the dark above your head he hovers
You look straight up and one two three
You do your best to flee
The stitches come undone
What’s next is never fun
With razor teeth that are all broken
Not another word is ever spoken

Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
Don’t worry, it’s just the wind that’s flapping
Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
Don’t worry, on your window, a raven is tapping
Do you hear that? That clap clap clapping?
On your bedroom door, he is rapping
Don’t hide in the closet
Don’t hide in the room

He can smell your fear
For dinner, it is what he craves, like a hungry grizzly bear
Run to the window, as quick as you can!
This is worse than the boogeyman!
Open it up! Hurry hurry!
The handle’s turning slowly
Slip a leg out of the window
He has the poison of a big black widow
You look back and nothing’s there
Nothing is anywhere
Oh! Guess what? Peek-a-boo!
The clap-clap got you too


Just Smile

Oh my little darling,
Wherever is your smile?
I know you’re shocked to see me
For it has been a while

But I came back my love
For I have missed you so
I watched you laugh and play
And run within the snow

And I thought you would miss me too
Whenever I left, you’d cry
And now here I am
But you won’t look me in the eye

Little one, just take a peek
Or else my sorrow grows
I have waited so long
Please head my pity woes

Oh love, tell me
Whatever should I do?
What will make you look at me
And make your eyes stick like glue?

I do not like this frown
Please make it go away
I’d rather see you smile
Even if it causes you dismay

I’ve waited oh so long to see you
And now, here I am
But you act as if I’m gone
And you shake just like a lamb

Can you just smile for me my love?
Just smile for me once
I will not leave ‘till I see it.
I am not a foolish dunce

You are very rude
I know you know I’m here
And I know that you know
When I whisper in your ear

Do not make me yell
Don’t make me cry or groan
Do not make me shout
Don’t make me scream or moan

I know for a fact you can see me
I know everything
Like I know the fact
That you and your mistress sing

Is that why you wish not to look upon me?
Is it because of her?
Well, I will get you back
Thank you, my good sir

I know that you still love me
I can see it in your eye
For when they buried me
All you did was cry

But now, here I am
Risen from my grave
And I see you with her
But you I still forgave

Now you won’t look upon me
And though it still won’t beat
I can feel my heart is shattered
This feeling’s bittersweet

But don’t worry my love,
For I have come for you
And soon you won’t be frightened
By all the things you knew

For here I have an axe
And a fire in my heart
For now is the time, my dear
For you to now depart

And oh how swiftly I swing
This axe with little might
It’ll all be over soon
And red will soon stain white

Now hear your mistress scream
And I scream in delight
But she bellows screams of horror
By the flickering candlelight

Now take my rotting hand
I’ll show you your new domicile
Do not be frightened, my love, please
Just smile


Burning Eyes

When the moonlight softly glows
You can hear the crying crows
And the fox that dances round
He makes a sour weeping sound
To which the bats, they come again
To hunt down crickets in the glen
You’ll be out with fireflies
Then comes the thing with burning eyes

In the moonlight, soft and pale
You can spot a sleeping quail
I’ll tell a tale of long before
A tale of ghosts and forgotten lore
When you soon drift off to sleep
A silent promise the thing does keep
Through the window come butterflies
And the thing with burning eyes

How the sky is so foggy and bleak
Yet full of life and so unique
When upon there comes a tapping
Tis’ only a mere crow that is rapping
I’ll sing a song of goblins and kings
A tale of treasure and horses with wings
Little child, you are very wise
Yet still comes the thing with burning eyes

I have places to go and people to see
The inside just won’t do it for me
So I must leave and go tonight
But I’ll leave you here with candlelight
I’ll leave behind a tale of lore
Of things that happened long before
But when the clock strikes to your demise
There comes the thing with burning eyes

There from your window, the fog creeps in
You’ll hear the calling of your kin
Upon your floor, the fog will scour
And leave behind a black rose flower
Please fall asleep to such a dream
And drown out the night filled scream
For this is the time I agonize
The time of the thing with burning eyes

Upon your weary curly head
That is laying in thy bed
It whispers out a tale of yore
But please don’t listen, forevermore.
There it places an outstretched hand
That casts a shadow on the land.
It sends a message to the skies,
From the thing with burning eyes.

Then the moonlight softly shows
With the dying crowing crows
The sleeping fox that dances ‘round
Who used to make a weeping sound,
To which the bats go back again
To find the crickets in the glen
Your spirit will be with fireflies
Because of the thing with burning eyes.


Rocking Chair

I am afraid of my shadow
For it’s not me who does cast it
But someone in my rocking chair
Sleeping by my window

I’m afraid of my reflection
For it’s not me that I see
But this someone right behind me
That whispers in my ear

I’m afraid to be alone
Because truly, I’m never alone
For he’s always there
Sitting in my rocking chair

I’m afraid of the dark
Not of the unseeable things in front of me
But because I can only think
Of what he does when I can’t see him

I’m afraid of my house
For that’s where my rocking chair is
And wherever my rocking chair is
I know he is there too

I’m afraid of my stairs
Because what if one day as I’m walking down them
He comes up behind me
And makes me fall down

I’m afraid of my bathroom
It’s dark with one small window
And a giant mirror that takes up a whole wall
So I can see where he is

I’m afraid of keeping my closet open at night
It’s so dark and dusty inside
And that one night I had that one dream
I know that’s where she likes to hide

I’m afraid of my hall way
Because of my flickering light
And that shadowy figure
That came through my hall and vanished in the night

I’m afraid of my walls
My house is old
But I swear I could've heard
A woman’s crying down the hall

I’m afraid of my fan
For it has no reason to fall
So tell me why it did
And almost hit me on the skull

I’m afraid of my kitchen
That’s where I saw her
The girl with the black veil and curls
She haunted my dreams

I’m afraid of my window
The one by my rocking chair
It really has no reason
To have condensation growing on it

I’m afraid of my foot stool
That came with my rocking chair
It rocks to
And it always does when no one is there

I’m afraid of my vanity
And how things just fall off of it
Is there someone playing around
Is it that man in the rocking chair?

I’m afraid of my mother’s room
That’s where I saw that face
That belonged to no one
That lives inside my house

I’m afraid of my brother’s room
That’s where I swear I saw
The body of a young girl hanging
From a rope by her neck

I’m afraid of my garage
But really, only at night
Because that’s where I saw that child
Playing by the saw

I’m afraid of my shed
I’ve never opened it
But sometimes when I’m near it
I can swear I hear voices calling from inside

I’m afraid of my rocking chair
He’s looking at me now
His smile is getting wider
And his rocks become slower

I’m afraid of that man
He was watching me before
Staring up at my window
Then standing by my kitchen door

I can’t stand the rocking
Of that old rocking chair
And how it hits the walls
It must get out of here


What Is It That Makes You Shiver?

ghost, dark, and gif image

Are you afraid of the dark?
If so, do not worry
For we are all quite afraid
But won’t announce it in a hurry

Tell me, why is it that you’re scared?
Are you spooked by blindness everywhere?
Of the noises that seem to be louder?
Is it something you think is there?

Tell me, what makes your hair stand on end?
What sends chills down your spine?
Is it perhaps the thought of werewolves
And how they only feast on swine?

Tell me, what causes you not to speak?
Is it the groaning of the drain?
Is it the tap tap tapping
Of a crow on your windowpane?

Now tell me, why won’t you open up your closet?
Is there something deep inside?
Do you perhaps believe that
It is where the monsters hide?

Tell me, what causes you to sweat?
Are you frightened by the moonlight beam?
Or is it the thought of vampires
Causing you to scream?

What is it that makes you chitter?
Certainly it isn’t I
So it must be something
That is causing you to cry

What is it that makes you shake?
Is it really truly me?
How could you be so frightened?
If only you could see

What is it that makes you shiver?
Perhaps, I know it’s true
But I wish to ignore it
For it makes me oh so blue!

I know what makes you shiver
It is the sight of me
Because every time I’m spotted
You turn around and flee

But alas I am still there
You can not get rid of me
I know you try your hardest
But it can never be

You try to push and shove
You pretend that you are blind
But always do remember
You can’t escape your mind


The Belgian Weeper

Have you ever heard of the Belgian weeper?
She stalks the night like the Grim Reaper
Filling the night with her woe and sorrow
She lies down on the edge of tomorrow
Searching the woods for her lost children
Ignoring the state that her hands are crimson
Hair as black as a raven’s feather
And the smile of a jester
Eyes of gold that hold demise
Her heart thumping in her chest, like butterflies
Her dress of silk that is worn and tattered
Around her neck, a gem that’s shattered
Leaving footprints in the snow
For I often wonder, where did her shoes go?
Singing out her song of grief
Blaming the night for being the thief
Never realizing what she has done
Never finding her daughter and son
For the night was so foggy and bleak
And she heard not a sound, not even a squeak
Swinging the axe with all her might
Screams drown out by the sounds of the night
Broken glass on the window pane
Looked at the mirror, filled with much vain
Fleeing her cottage to the woods down below
Swallowed by shadows that no one does know
The chirping of crickets and cries of the bats
Drinking pond water and feeding off rats
Her nails are split, and yellow in color
Dug in her chest, a timber wolf’s mollar
Her fingers are bony
Her eyes are bleak
If you listen at night, you’ll hear her moaning
She’ll startle you, yes, with a dark banshee’s shrieking
Still not finding where her children have gone
Searching the woods until crack of dawn
Coming to mind in horror and fright
For she has realized, she had killed her children that night


Yet To Come

This is actually 'A Christmas Carol' based poem, but Imma put it here anyways

Once upon a night I sleep
As snow from sky she sure does creep
Toss and turn in my own bed
I can not stand this pounding in my head
The aching moans that echo near
The sour crying in my ear
Strike me down and I will fall
But with glory I’ll reign on all
Butterflies of the winter and fairies of night
I’ll restrain this pain with all my might

Take me to the past, I'll see
All of those who cared on me
Take my hand and we will fly
As we watch the time go by
Take me home and I will rest
Like a bluebird in her nest
And a flower upon my breast

Wake me once again, I see
Take me to now, so I will be
So I will be able to see
See what lies right in front of me
In front of my eyes, I’m too blind to see
This greed and hoard that has come over me
Take my hand again I beg, plead, cry
Let me sit and shut my eyes
Fall asleep to winter bells
All I’ve learned is that greed sells

Wake once more, I wake and see
A hooded specter over me
With her bony claw, she takes my hand
We travel to my future and
AVAST! The horror! The horror before my eyes!
I’m taken to the grave that lies!
She turns me round and removes her hood
A beauty before me is what there stood
With her hair of golden fire
She has turned me to a liar
Pulling me in for a kiss of love
She then turns to the greed of a turtle dove
Stumbling back against my will
I trip and stumble down a hill
I fall into a pit so deep
A pit, my grave! It’s where I’ll weep!
Holding onto the frozen earth
I long for the warmth of my fire hearth
My hand forbids to hold on more
I feel a hole within my core
Shouting out in despair
“I promise to spread good will everywhere!”
She takes my hand and I am saved
For the earth already caved
Once again a hooded specter
I am no longer a greedy victor
She takes my face in her frozen grasp
And I emit a ghastly gasp
Kissing me with pure raw love
Like a sign from up above
Waking up I only see
That what has been was no mere dream
My eyes darting to the right of me
A note of fancy parchment and script, indeed
Alone, I read this script aloud
Into which my heart is bound
“Only you can stop your heart from becoming numb
Your one true love, the ghost of Christmas yet to come.”


Only Now But Forevermore

aesthetic, alternative, and art image

Silver moon with diamond beams
I look from my window with weary eyes
I breath in air of rot and mold
As my heart stays true to its lies

Reading old spell books and making dolls of voodoo
When suddenly there came a tap tap tapping
I hug myself tight, awaiting a fright
For I am on the very urge of snapping

My eyes dart to the left and right
Who could that ever be?
“Who goes there?” I shout
I bring a flame before my eyes to only ever see

The calling of wolves echoed through and through
Suddenly swooping from my windowsill
Came a raven as black as night
Like a lion waiting to kill

Soon this devil bird perched himself upon a bust
Just above my chamber door
And he peered into my soul as if to say
“This is where I’ll rest, only now but forevermore.”

I stare at the raven, yes, this is quite true
Until soon she starts to cry
“This is where I’ll rest, only now but forevermore!”
Then I realize this demons intentions are only but to horrify

I begin to panic, my heart beats louder and louder
I begin to shout back, “This is where I dwell!”
The bird looks to me and mocks me, I say
“You foolish demon! I’m not yet frightened! Now go back to hell!”

The room begins to spin. Am I losing myself?
I hit the floor of my bed chambers with great power
And before my eyes fully close
Above me I see the demon bird tower

I wake to chanting
Wherever could I be?
My body aches
My, what happened to me?

I look all around, but no answers I found
Alas I spot a ring of demon birds, I watch as they roared
Yes! A ring of birds as black as night! Where they my captors?
“Light as a feather, stiff as a board!”

Am I asleep? Is this a weary dream?
All of a sudden I feel as heavy as coal
I take to a mirror and I am quite horrified
For looking back are the eyes of a demon bird burning my soul


Now the stars twinkle and the sun won’t rise
At an old house, quite up on a hill
I fly just quick as I can
I rest on the windowsill

I watch the maiden inside before going in. I speak softly to her
“Maiden, leave now or forever be like me.” I sadly implore
The maiden shrieks and falls down dead, just like I
I chant the words that my captors taught me, the ones that I deplore

Her soul is risen out of thee and in her eyes I see
A maiden’s whose life was taken to soon from her home on the sapphire shore
I look with sorrow at her feathers and claws before speaking one final time
“This is where you’ll stay, only now but forever more.”


Margaret Skinner

Fun Fact: I was gonna turn this into a short film for my video class, but didn't end up doing so bc of time issues

here once was a girl who wasn’t okay
Who once had to be tied up so she wouldn’t run away.
Who was always bullied, really a shame
But compared to the others, she wasn’t the same.
Who always found interest in the art of resurrection,
Strange as it seems, but it was really an affection.
And as days went by, her sanity grew thinner and thinner.
And this young girl’s name was Margaret Skinner

Margaret Skinner is seventeen years old
She’s pretty and polite and does what she’s told
Unlike the others who are loud and crass
She’s quiet and gentle and full of class
The children say she’s creepy and meek
But Margaret Skinner likes to think she’s unique
Instead of the others who focus on looks
She prefers to have her nose in her books

“Margaret Skinner, come out and come play
Would you quit reading the darn day away?
There are flowers to pick and ponds to swim in!
Forget your tales of goblins and boogeymen!”
But young Margaret Skinner just ignored her dear sister
And imagining her being destroyed in a twister.
Flipping the pages and sipping her tea
She went back to the witches of 1693

“Oh Margaret Skinner, I know you can hear me!
It’s beautiful out, though I know you disagree.”
“Penelope, sister, would you silence your trap?
Against my poor ears does your wretched voice slap.
I’d like some quiet, can’t you see that I’m reading?
This is a new story, and I can sense a beheading!
So now, if you please, go skip off and away.”
So Penelope did so, she thought it best not to stay.

Her parents and teachers hope this is all temporary
Because she likes to plan her home in the cemetery
Margaret Skinner believes she has a part
And that she lives in the walls of her art
She thinks the monsters are afraid to be shown
The monsters that live in the world 0f her own
The children all say she has a farm of zombie hares
That comes out at night from their home under her stairs

While the others run around and climb up the trees
She prefers to stay at home and play the ivory keys
When it gets dark out, they all go home for dinner
Except for one, and that is Margaret Skinner
While the others talk about her and what she portrays
She likes to pretend she hasn’t slept in 62 days
She enjoys reading, mostly by candlelight
And she could stay like that, long into the night

The rumours say she has a dead rat
And only drinks blood that has come from a bat
They say she has an army of mice
And that she has the powers of ice
But Margaret Skinner is a very nice girl
And often wears her earrings of pearl
However, whenever Margaret paints
She forgets where she is and almost always faints

One day she painted a zombie eel
And convinced herself that it was more than real
All that day she dared not to go near water
For she thought it would be her that it would slaughter
She can swear she had a werewolf encounter
And that the werewolf tried to eat her
She kept the tuft of grey fur within a box
And says she keeps it to cure the werewolf pox

One night she had a frightening dream
That caused her to stir and awake with a scream
She said from the walls reached skeleton hands
And from her art called ghostly demands
In the stares of her art, she did wallow
For everywhere she went, their eyes seemed to follow
Margaret Skinner’s scream came from her last breath
Because she fell against her pillows as silent as death

Margaret Skinner was seventeen years old
She was pretty and polite and did what was told
But like everyone else, she did have a flaw
Because of her imagination, at her cheeks, she did gnaw
And because of her fears from her canvas and paint
Her mother and father thought to put her in restraint
She clawed at her arms and thought bugs were under her skin
But she fell silent due to the voices within

When Mr and Mrs Skinner found her body clay-cold
Some unfortunate events began to unfold
Her frozen eyes seemed to stare through and through
You would’ve shuddered if you saw them too
Their baby was gone
Just before dawn
What could’ve become of poor Margaret Skinner?
What you most need to know, was this child was a sinner

Though she had her peculiarity to uphold
There was a part of her that went quickly untold
She practised witchcraft and the burning of sage
And sacrificing a goat at her coming of age
She burned candles with a beckoning flame
And even once called out the Devil’s name.
“I command you to smite all those who wronged me
And make them cry out at the name and sight of thee!”

Of course, as expected, someone always saw
But this someone, so scared, dared not to make a caw.
However, this person did write it down
But it came to no use as the writings did drown
“I fear that my dear sister pray
To have her body rot and decay.
To have her eyes fall out of her head,
I fear that she won’t stop until at last, she is dead.”

Penelope Skinner watched, silent and still
As the air sank yet arose with a chill.
Margaret called Penelope to her side
And she gripped her sister's hand and her eyes became wide
And upon her sick sister, Penelope fell
For it broke her heart to see her sister in hell
“Margaret Dear sister, what has become of you?
Why would you go this far to become earthworm stew?

Margaret’s words spilled from her bleeding lips
A sight horrid enough to stop passing ships.
To her sister’s ear did Margaret draw near
As Penelope hid her look of pure fear.
Margaret said “I know you saw what it is that I’ve done
But I promise, it was all in good fun.
I sliced a goat from bottom to top
In hopes for my heart to suddenly stop.

“Welcomed here, I realize I’m not
I’d prefer to be wrapped in a cot.
And placed in a black oak coffin
As you can see, I’ve thought of this often.”
Penelope looked at her sister in shock
As if she saw the monster of Ness Loch.
“Margaret no! You’re disturbed and insane!
You have had a tumor in your brain!

“I thought you did know this, really I did
I just assumed that you knew this and hid
The fact that you were never okay
And that’s why I thought you acted this way!
Margaret please! Don’t leave me yet!
Don’t you do anything that you will regret!”
But Margaret only smiled and said
“Dear sister, I know, I just would prefer to be dead.”

Penelope’s face grew red and hot
For she thought her sister would care, but instead she did not.
“Margaret Skinner! You worship the devil!
What made you think you could get on his level?”
Inside Penelope something did change
It made her feel dark and happy and strange.
Margaret lied back down and closed her eyes
For at that moment she met her wanted demise.

Inside the room, her parent’s came in
As Penelope stood up and grew a sinister grin.
The now family of three brought Margaret to her grave
“For eternity now she will be the Devil’s slave”
Penelope whispered choking back the tears
“She’s gone at it for more than five years.”
“Did you say something?” Mrs. Skinner did call.
“Nothing mother, no, nothing at all.”

When they buried dear margaret, the gave her grave a special addition
For looks and for the love of tradition.
By her grave a bell was placed as a final farewell
Incase she were to wake in this zombie hotel.
And as night came around with the moonlight shining down
Penelope was there by her sister wearing a false frown.
But soon within the woods came a twinkling sound
So pleasing to the ear Penelope found.

So off she walked into the woods just beyond
And into the darkness did Penelope bond.
But soon enough did the grave bell start ringing.
It went wild with its clanging and dinging!
And from the earth came a petrified scream
Sounding as if it came from a hellish like dream.
No one had heard
How Margaret stirred.

Entertained, I presume, but confused you must be.
I’ll explain everything, just listen to me.
The shadows are I and everywhere you go, we always are crammed
Now here is an explanation of Margaret the damned.
When her possession was dying and over
The devil called ‘Red rover red rover’
Then soon Penelope was next and possessed
For the devil chooses only the best.

When Margaret was ill and lying in bed
The devil thought that soon she’d be dead
And stopped possessing Margaret’s art
And soon crawled into Penelope’s heart.
So now you know that an explanation I’ll lend
You followed along from beginning to end
When the devil thought she would be gone for good
He left Margaret to claw at the wood

The ringing of the bell continued in vain
And the splinters soon brought more blood and more pain
As the pleading and crying for help continued aloud
Such yelling and screaming would make a banshee proud.
Oh, I’m sorry. Confused you still are
In this story, I have taken you far.
The ending I speak in nothing but dread
Is that Margaret Skinner was never really dead.


What A Lonely Little Night

Halloween, creepy, and skeleton image

What a lonely little night
To which the wind shall blow my velvet curtain
I will hear the spirits moaning
Into which I am uncertain

I shall have a cup of tea
And read up a tale of yore
And I’ll listen to their stories
Of what has happened long before

And I’ll weep along with them
And I shall listen kindly
Then we can dance around
And have fun that is so idly

There here is a young maiden
Who had lost her suitor to crows
And in her hands she holds
A pretty snow white rose

What a lonely little night
To have company this late
But they surely must be lost
So I’ll open up the gate

I’ll offer them some drink
And then some cheese and bread
But I note they won’t partake
For they are surely dead

I’ll let them in my house
Where they can warm themselves
And I’ll take their coats and hats
And lie them on my shelves

I shall build them up a fire
For they are cold as clay
And the grownups will go dancing
And the children, they will play

What a lonely little night
And the moon is almost full
And the fire has gone out
I’ll get my blanket wool

And this is truly something
That shall never be forgotten
Don’t let the dead inside
For then they will turn rotten

For when they are inside
Don’t you offer them some bread
For they will take advantage
And you will soon be dead

What a lonely little night
As the ghosts and I take flight
To our earthen homes so white
On this lonely little night

They have made a headstone for me
So I’ll lie down and write
And then I’ll sleep and wait
For some other lad’s delight

And then we will take off
And find the lad to smite
So we can have a new friend
For the next lonely little night


That was a fun cringe trip for me. Hope you enjoyed.