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HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Okay, okay, I know I’ve been slacking on posting new stuff lately. But hey… I could never let today slip by without a blog post. What sort of self-respecting horror blogger would I be if I didn’t say HAPPY HALLOWEEN!?

And to celebrate? How about we get in the mood with a horror poem by Rick Powell, then I’ll share a SUPER EASY pumpkin cookie recipe you can make last minute to enjoy this evening, and to top it off… How about sex in a haunted house? Haha. That is, how about we watch the short horror film ‘Sex in a Haunted House’? 😛

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The Midnight Hour

It is the time when the mortal forms succumb to rest,

The time to put your troubles and toils away till the morrow,

To not think about what has ailed you or hampered your mind,

To try to forget who has harmed you or has caused you to sorrow.

*

This hour is for other things to come to life and rise from the shadows,

Things the light of day had not exposed and revealed to human eyes,

Things that have no home here in the waking dawn of daily man,

This hour is for creatures of many forms to stalk under the ebony skies.

*

Some have claw or talon that can rip asunder your flesh in a minute,

Teeth that are razor sharp that will stop your scream before it has spoken,

Some are the most savage beasts of nightmares that your brain could ever conceive,

That to gaze upon them for a moment will leave your frail mind and soul broken.

*

Foolish is the man who would brave to venture out into this hellish world,

To try to show wisdom and courage and prove they are not the ones to cower,

Beware of these beings that are known to haunt the darkest of all graves,

It is far better to stay in your homes and not seek what walks at the midnight hour.

*

Rick Powell

5/19/2014

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Feeling festive but don’t have a lot of time? Try these Three Ingredient Pumpkin Cookies for a quick and tasty treat tonight.

Three Ingredient Pumpkin Cookies

1 (15 ounce) can of pumpkin

pumpkin

1 box of spice cake mix

spice

1 cup of milk chocolate chips OR butterscotch chips (Mmmmmm)

chips

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Lightly coat your cookie sheet with non-stick spray.

In a large bowl, mix together the cake mix and pumpkin with a fork or mixer until well blended.

Fold in chocolate or butterscotch chips.

Drop by the spoonful on greased baking sheets.

Bake for 15-18 minutes.

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Okay, now that we’re in the mood…

Sex in a Haunted House!

Mwahaha.

Happy Halloween!

“Remedy” by Lindsey Goddard – video and narration by Lee Harral

Hey, guys! I’m popping by to post a quick video. My friend and fellow creative mind Lee Harral produced an eerie video narration of my poem “Remedy”. I hope you enjoy. Subscribe to his YouTube channel if you like it!

Remedy
By Lindsey Goddard

Withered skin and yellow teeth,
Gritty tongue, a stifled call.
Blinding sun adds injury
To her rigor mortis crawl.
Brittle nails, like insect wings
As her frail hands try to claw
To salvation she can suckle
With her chapped and pale-blue maw.

Shards of mirror in the sunlight,
Casting shapes across her picture.
He emerges from the shadows,
Twisted smile. He can fix her.
Spider veins and severed limbs,
It’s too late to sew and stitch her.
Lips strain open; he pours in
Another dose of the elixir.

Dark poetry by Lindsey Goddard

The great response we’ve received to horror poetry so far has got me itching to share one of my own. Do you mind if I steal the spotlight for a moment? The following poem has been published twice. In 2009, it appeared in the anthology Mausoleum Memoirs, and in 2013, it appeared in the October issue of Infernal Ink Magazine. It’s my favorite poem I’ve written. I hope you enjoy it. Well… as much as one can enjoy gloom and doom. 🙂

Within These Walls
By: Lindsey Goddard

A ghost who mourns; her earthly name
was tarnished by the word “insane”.
The curse of life: her mortal bane,
her rival… ’til she stopped the pain.

Her name is now synonymous
with how she chose the Reaper’s kiss,
and how she stopped her heart for this–
eternal ache, with no dismiss.

And now she floats within these walls,
follows me down every hall,
eyes me from the shower stall,
begging me to hear her call.

“Lobotomy,” she heard them say
on that strange and frightful day,
“is sure to wipe her tears away.”
Choked up, her father said “okay.”

An ear still pressed against the door,
she listened as the doctor swore
her grief and strife would be no-more.
His words, they chilled her to the core.

She ran until her legs gave out,
chest heaving with her final shout,
“It ends right here, there is no doubt!”
And she began to look about.

The gallows towered in the distance.
She ignored her limbs’ resistance.
Permitting not a moment’s hindrance,
she bid this world a curt good riddance.

Her tortured soul, it didn’t stay
near her gallows of dismay.
From its deathbed it did stray,
finding its way home that day.

And now she floats within these walls,
follows me down every hall,
eyes me from the shower stall,
begging me to hear her call.

Her name is now synonymous
with how she chose the Reaper’s kiss,
and how she stopped her heart for this–
eternal ache, with no dismiss.

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