Welcome to My Poetry Site
Phantom File Cloak of Truth 2
Edited by: Icky the eyeball scratcher
Join me if you will on a short time-ride back
To the 1950s, a time when Hallowe’en saw
Minnie Mouse, Micky Mouse, Goofy and a
Host of other cartoon charters unexpectedly
Roaming the streets after dark. Yes, we may
Laugh today at such a notion, but back then
A life-size Micky Mouse knocking on your
Door on a crisp moonlit night might be just
As effective as Bela Lugosi popping round
For a cup of blood.
Are we missing something, have we lost
The plot, confining ourselves to the walking
Dead, eyeballs on hat pins, and the like?
Stop for a moment and imagine what the
Sight of Donald Duck emerging from the
Shadows his blood sucking beak glinting
In the moonlight, top-drawer stuff I'd say
In terms of scaring even the most
Seasoned Hallowe’ener.
Snow White too, accompanied by her gang of
Dwarfs might likewise be another unexpected
Route to the Hallowe’en collywobbles, when
A pretty girl knocks on a door and a band of
Blood-curdling trick or treat dwarfs await its
Opening.
There’s a ghostly haze ‘bout the streets tonight,
Best lock thy doors and pray for light.’
Yes Hallowe’en has changed, but not the dark,
For it is still with us and will always be with us,
Capturing the essence of the absence of light
And that which might lurk therein beyond our
Knowledge.
From every direction dark forces began to
Assemble, misty jars bubbling with entrails-
Elixir hovered between headstones tipping
Generously when called upon to administer
Refreshment. Goblets were raised and
Frighteners exchanged in an atmosphere of
Ghoulish giddiness and phantom banter, a
Bell in the gravedigger’s hut spoke in bongs.
Muffled melodies rose from the resting place of
The Red Hot Pocus whilst decaying fingers and
Thumbs tapped and snapped to The Dark Harp
Fantasy Band and finally, the Mistress of Misery,
Aleata Raww, briefly interrupted proceedings to
Curse everyone for coming. ‘Verily, verily, I say
Unto all ye buried here about this wretched place
At this unsafe hour, come forward at once from
Thy long-drop and show thyself so that by order
Of the dreadful odours vested in me I may know
Thy stench. ‘Witches, phantoms, chillies and
Freaks, charge thy goblets for the toast is,
Hallowe’en.’
© Joseph G Dawson