Scary Poems For Halloween

“What’s That There In the Stair”
By: Kelly M. Conaboy

What’s that there?
In the stair?
Is it a bear?
Or a hair?
Is it a pear?
A flashlight’s glare?
What is it there?
In the stair?
Does it look square?
Or like a chair?
Am I having—
A nightmare?
Is it a mare?
Is it a hare?
Is it healthcare?
Is it Times Square?
Is it warfare?
Is it cookware?
Is it daycare?
Is it skincare?
Or software?
I see a flare…
Is it a lair?
What is it there!
In the stair?
Is it Blaire?
Is it Claire?
Is it Cher?
Jessie Ware?
Are you aware?
Of what is there?
(In the stair?)
Are you unfair—?
—ly keeping this knowledge from me?
Is it air?
A millionaire?
A solar flare?
Or, oh
I see it now
Over there
In the stair
I am now un-unaware
It is—


“My Little Non-Ghost Friend”
By: Kelly M. Conaboy

I love my little non-ghost friend
We play, and laugh, and talk
And when we get a bit antsy
We go out for a walk

Well, I guess, to be precise
My friend, he doesn’t walk
He seems a bit to float on air

“Nighttime Noise”
By: Kelly M. Conaboy

While lying in my bed last night, I heard a scary noise
I’m not one too get eas’ly spooked (I hold myself with poise)
But this noise was so scary that I couldn’t quite ignore
I jolted from my bed and and ran screaming to my back door

I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran into the wood
Screaming ’til my throat was raw, to warn the neighborhood
I kept running through the wood until I found a hole
I jumped right in and found a friend, a little woodland mole

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, bitch,” the mole, he said to me
Startled, I began to laugh and laugh and laugh with glee
A sweet and tiny talking mole, I never would have thought!
I kept on laughing ’til I heard a little mole gunshot!

“You shot me, mole!” I said to my tiny cute new friend
“Yeah I know and now you’re gonna die,” he said, “the end.”
“Mr. Mole, but why,” I pleaded to his mole tail wiggling
Just then I felt upon me powerful forelimbs with large paws adapted for digging

“I’m gonna strangle you, too, ‘case my mole gun didn’t work.”
(He was right to worry, you know, not to be a jerk) (It was mole-sized)
Anyway, the strangling worked. The mole killed me that night
And now I haunt these dirty woods, giving children a fright!

The moral of the story is, when you hear a scary sound
DO NOT run to the woods and jump in a hole in the ground