Category: Poetry

Give me two slices of wheat bread, and not the kind that appears as wheat. I know what companies do to trick people as if they’re eating wheat. You know that terrible wheat bread full of gluten and sugar. I want the wheat bread that’s whole and has grains, many many grains. The kind that’s

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Green slime in the glass, built up long and strong. When will I ever catch up and the sinks not be full? I have mindless other things to do. Watch re-runs of shows while tripping over my things. A small pile of clothes on the floor with dust. Dirty things stuck together like popsicle sticks.

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I hear the cries. I see the tears. I know the sounds. I listen well. When the sheets come down on the bed, the warmth escapes. I cover my ears. I close my eyes. I smell the violence. I taste the blood. When the pillows are thrown from the bed, the shadow moves. I want

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These bones jiggle all around. Making noise, clanging around. This foot must’ve been deformed. See how it bends at the wrong place. These hands look funny too. See how the fingers twist in the mighty wind. This is a sign something is terribly wrong. There is no dreaming here. No one’s thinking the scarecrow is

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You’re the ornamental insect causing havoc. They call you a space invader. The Vespa mandarinia many times over. My eyes don’t get tired because of you. I’ve spent a lifetime with people calling me a rug. My mouth doesn’t open at the right time. They cause organ failure and shock. The Asian hornet queen has

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his stomach was near empty the very hunger that goes against rebelling and ignoring the obvious nothing fills the void like the small keep the light covered do not change the order unnecessarily he has gone to the other side truth must continue

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Poetry moves us; it can make us think, see the world in a different way; it can even make us laugh. But can poetry send a shiver down the spine? We think so. Below, we have selected ten of the scariest and most chilling poems. We introduce each of the […] 10 of the Scariest Poems

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When I think the words inside my head, “Hurry up, my dear, hurry up,” I land in a space between longing and chilliness, as if I will not be able to stand my own criticism. The fire will turn to coals, cooling at the right time and the pudding eventually becomes room temperature. Feeling warm

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Don’t ask me why the birds have stopped singing. I don’t know why they have have gone silent on a beautiful day like today. Somewhere else, the day is not so beautiful, in fact, it is nighttime. The owls are hooting and not letting those around sleep a good night’s sleep. Don’t ask me why

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Unlock the gate and let me in. From whom shall I catch a glimpse in between the metal rods? I don’t recognize that person. He doesn’t look familiar. It seems he’s lost the way and doesn’t care. I know I certainly have, on the outside, where I reside. There’s a few dollars in my pocket.

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Because you could You felt Deserved It Because you had You reached Enticed It Because you must You wanted Desired Because you are You lied Desired Because you can’t You picked Appalled

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The second time I woke up, I heard him call my name from above. He asked me, “what the hell you doin’ down there?” I yelled undecipherable sounds and nothing else. He shouted back, “spit the marbles out.” There were many times I wished I had marbles to throw. I grabbed my yo-yo and chucked

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I’ve seen the wind blow the tall grasses, the cornstalks too. It’s peaceful there with the sun setting, but soon I grow antsy. I want to see tall buildings and see the faces of different people. I’ve heard the train whistle at anyone nearby, telling them to not come close. The reality is hardly anyone

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