Sharing Scares: Spooky, Silly Sonnets

A few years ago over on Virtual Bastion (which was then United We Game), we came up with a novel idea to celebrate the month of Halloween – we ran a spooky, silly poetry contest! The rules were simple, and anyone who happened to catch our announcement post could submit an entry. The winner of the contest, as chosen by us, received the hallowed title of “Spooky Champion of Silly Prose!” While collecting the entries (you can read the winning poem here, written by blogger friend and Spooky Champion of Silly Prose C. T. Murphy), the Duck, Hatm0nster, and I posted our own poems. As we are just a couple weeks away from everyone’s favorite scary holiday, I thought it’d be fun to share here the poems I wrote for that occasion. (I never reblogged them, as far as I can tell.) I’m not much of poet, as you see from the following, but I had fun with the task nonetheless. Happy BOO SCARY days, and all that. 👻 

The Cacodemon

Here I stand, peering around the corner.
I see you in the distance, standing…no floating.
You don’t have any legs.
But that’s to your advantage.
Especially when you consider the clumsiness of humanity.
You’re not human either.
And it shows.
Humans aren’t floating balls of death.
Though I guess anything is possible.
No, anything IS possible – just look at YOU after all!
And look at me, as I hide here at the corner.
Humanity at its finest?
I’m a Space Marine! I have my glare, my gun…
My grasp on reality in this demon-ridden world is all too strong.
Why then do I wish you would just float away?
Just float away in the other direction.
Because of all the hissing; it’s a sound I despise.
The grunts and growls of others are dulcet tones,
But that hissssss…ssssss….ssss.
The sound sets my ears on fire, just like your plasma bursts.
I will burst should I get too close, be too clumsy.
From here, I can hear the hissing, other angry sounds too.
(So you’re not alone?)
But mostly hissing.
hisssssss … SSSS SSSS SSSSS … …
And I need to it stop.


Here I stand, peering around the corner.
I see you in the distance and I aim

The First Encounter

Hello Spider, large creepy Spider,
I would like to pass.
Mr. Spider, a big ol’ Spider,
No need to be so rash.

Hello Spider, unwelcome Spider,
Surely you have a home.
Mr. Spider (or maybe Mrs. Spider?),
I’m just a boy alone.

Hello Spider, immodest Spider,
I do not want to hurt.
Mr. Spider, a lively Spider,
With manner sharp and curt.

Hello Spider, annoying Spider,
You are in my way.
Mr. Spider, still a scary Spider,
Keep your legs at bay.

Hello Spider, an angry Spider,
I need to press ahead!
Mr. Spider, unmoving Spider,
I see the path you tread.

Hello Spider, you silly Spider,
I have found a trap.
Mr. Spider, unconvincing Spider,
You cannot adapt.

Goodbye Spider, reckless Spider,
Go hide in your glen.
Your plan to kill will not work still.
Until we meet again!

No Turning Back Now

What is a home without its inhabitants?
A building, a structure, a thing to admire.

I am home, but I am alone.
Maybe I am not, in fact, “home.”

It’s raining, thunder rumbles.
This place feels foreign.

I am a foreigner or I might as well be,
having been away from home for so long.

This place with locks and no lights terrifies me.
The fear of entering the known(?) is overwhelming.

But it is my house. My home.
The dread is nothing more than ghosts.

Ghosts of what I knew.
Ghosts of what I don’t know now.
Ghosts of what is to be discovered.
Ghosts of what will become of discovery.

As the wind whips and the rain pours, I have to get inside.
My house. My home. I’ve come home, family!

No one signals my presence.
Peering in a window reveals that I am truly alone.

No family watching.
No family waiting.
No family.

Where is my family?
I stumble around to find the hidden key.

I peer inside again and rattle a window hoping for some attention.
None comes.

I find the key and pause.
Do I really want to go inside?

Do I want to know where my family is?
Do I want to know about this house, this home now?
DO I want to find light in the darkness?

YES! I must. Must I?

For I’ve gone home.
A home that is mine but is not.
A home that welcomes me but does not.
A home that I love but that scares me. Scars me?

Don’t look back now; it’s too late.
Open the door and face the ghosts.

The First Seventeen Minutes of DOOM 3

It’s dark, I walk,
I don’t dare talk
in the passageway.
It’s cold and dank,
almost rank,
this base where science plays.

No one’s around.
But wait…a sound —
oh, it’s just a machine.
I have no way,
no place to stay,
should I hear a scream.

I see a man
with tools in hand
mumbling to the air.
He says “Don’t go!
You don’t want to know
the evil that lurks in there!”

I pay him no mind
as I must find
the source of all things wrong.
This facility on Mars
has haunted scars
where man does not belong.

I go down a shaft.
(I must be daft
to follow my command!)
A scientist warns,
and then he scorns
attempts to save this land.

We gotta go!
I tell him so,
but there is no time.
The demon portal
that fears no man mortal
has manifested its crime.

The fire that spews
can’t be eschewed,
it envelops all.
It takes men
again and again
in each and every hall.

The scientist possessed
is not impressed
with my need to escape.
I panic, then kill
in a moment so shrill
it makes my goal take shape.

I must save this base
from a horrid fate.
I’m the only one who can.
This single room
can’t become my tomb.
I start to make a plan.

As I head to the door
something stops me once more,
but there’s nothing in my way.
It’s my internal fear
So monumental and clear…


…maybe this isn’t a bad place to stay.



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