My Haunted Home

There’s something special about my home,
For I do not live here alone,
This house is haunted by many a ghost,
And these are the people I hang out with the most,

There’s a spectral mare who has lots of fun,
Through the halls she likes to run,
And she can speak, this ghostly horse,
We like to chat while watching sports,

A hanged man’s corpse floats through the air,
Of current events he is very aware,
We often talk about the news,
Things more painful than his noose.

There’s a giant flying skull with flaming eyes,
And he likes to make us apple pies,
As well as lots of cakes and bread,
Using the oven that is his head,

These three ghosts I just told you about,
They watch as I write this poem out,
All of three of them shake their heads and say, ‘Shame,
Have you forgotten that we have names?’

(The horse is named Emma, the hanged man is Jimmy and the skull is Stan Skulton. I gave his full name because he’s got a cook book coming out, Brain Food: Using Your Head When Cooking)

One Day I Saw A Robot

One day I saw a robot,
Who had a big square head,
As well as pointed rusted fangs,
And eyes glowing bright red,

He was quite a big robot,
He stood about eight feet tall,
And when he came into the room,
He burst right through the wall.

Slowly he approached me,
And let loose a loud roar,
He grabbed me with his right hand,
For his left hand was a claw,

He looked at me and growled and snarled,
‘I’m going to kill you!’
Then the robot added,
‘Well, how did I do?’

I could only sigh at him,
‘Sorry, you failed the test.
You weren’t all that scary,
And you didn’t give your best.

‘I don’t see you scaring heroes,
Their spines you won’t be chilling!’
The robot then said, ‘Fine!
I’ll look for another supervillain!

‘I wonder if Dr. Meow is hiring…’

The Ghoul in the Arcade


There’s a ghoul in the arcade, beware,
There’s a ghoul in the arcade,
He’s got pale skin and yellow eyes,
And he wears a big bow tie.

There’s a ghoul in the arcade, beware,
There’s a ghoul in the arcade,
He terrorises everyone,
He’ll make sure to spoil your fun.

There’s a ghoul in the arcade, beware,
There’s a ghoul in the arcade,
His magic will ruin your day,
He makes the mechanical horse gallop away.

There’s a ghoul in the arcade, beware,
There’s a ghoul in the arcade,
Play the games, if you dare,
If you win, you’ll get a scare.

There’s a ghoul in the arcade, beware,
There’s a ghoul in the arcade,
The crane game you won’t enjoy,
It’ll grab you instead of a toy.

There’s a ghoul in the arcade, beware,
There’s a ghoul in the arcade,
And the trick he finds most funny,
Is allowing machines to eat your money.

The Caterpillar Roller Coaster


I’m a caterpillar roller coaster,
There’s a big smile on my face,
The smile is an eternal one,
So I don’t look out of place,

In the middle of this amusement park,
Where the children ride,
In my hollowed-out body,
By synthetic butterflies,

I can never become a butterfly,
And fly off with the others,
I can never make a cocoon,
Like my natural brothers,

I can never soar into the sky,
And though it may seem vile,
I’ll remain on this track forever,
I’ll stay here with a smile.

The Tree

Another older poem of mine.


Once on a hill, as tall as can be,
There stood a very troubled young tree,
A nice little birch whose name was Lucy.

Lucy, you see, had a lot on her mind,
She twitched, and found it so hard to unwind,
As she thought of the horrors that awaited her kind.

Ever since last week, she couldn’t relax,
After her husband recieved several whacks.
His murderer? The man with the axe.

She had been told it was an honour to die,
When a tree’s cut, she shouldn’t cry;
It’ll go and meet the tree god in the sky.

The humans would be able to use the trees’ wood,
They’ll become helpful things like they should,
So after death, they have a chance to do good.

But, how she loved her husband so!
No tables or chairs she would bestow,
If it meant her love would go.

He was her world, he was such fun,
They’d sleep together and watch the sun,
Their love for each other never came undone.

To take him from her was such a crime,
So Lucy thought now was the time,
To do something about this human grime.

Her body was hers, not for some guy,
To shove his ass in when she should die,
She let out a snort, looking up at the sky.

Just then, a new thought sprung up in her brain,
‘Before another tree gets murdered again,
Why can’t I have something to gain?

‘I have no tables, no cupboards, no bed,
Trees make them for humans, and they end up dead!’
A troubling thought to enter her head.

‘I know what’ll I do,’ Lucy said with a smile,
‘I’ll wait for that moment, and when it comes, I’ll
Perform something that will be really worthwhile.”

She waited, days, weeks, thinking just of the plan,
When one day, she happened to spy a fat man,
With stubble on his chin, and a lack of a tan.

This man hadn’t forgot to equip,
The infamous axe he held in his grip,
He held it so tightly, would not let it slip.

Lucy on the hill was this man’s sure prey,
Surely this was her inevitable day,
A prophecy that she could not betray.

She saw the man, who had no grace,
And the moment she did embrace,
As a cheerful smile spread across her face.

She’d defeat this fate, she wouldn’t be lax,
With her branch arms, she grabbed the axe,
It was she that performed the whacks.

The man was now dead; he had no prayer,
So Lucy grabbed him by the hair,
Oh, he’d make a lovely chair!

The stomach was the cushion, arms were arm-rests,
A ribcage to slouch on when one feels stressed,
Lucy gazed at it with pride, no longer depressed.

The Man With A Jack-in-the-Box For A Head

Yet another older poem of mine.


There was a man,
Who wished he was dead,
Since he had a Jack-in-the-box,
For a head.

One day the man,
Whose head was a toy,
Went to the shops,
And met a small boy.

The kid said, ‘Oh wow,
That really rocks,
That man’s head,
Is a Jack-in-the-box!’

The boy then stamped,
On poor Jack’s feet.
With a kick in the shin,
Jack fell on the street.

‘No, little boy,
I beg you, stop!’
But the kid turned the crank,
And the weasel went pop.

What popped out,
From the strange man’s head,
Was a sight that filled,
The young boy with dread.

It was a giant clown,
Its face ugly as sin,
With burning red eyes,
And a wide bloodstained grin.

‘Kid,’ Jack said,
‘You better run away screamin’,
Because you’ve just released,
My personal demon!’

The evil clown laughed,
And held out a gun,
‘Come now kid,
Let us have some fun!’

The kid screamed really loud,
And then ran away,
Said the clown,
‘I’ll get him another day!’

Jack growled at the clown,
And then closed his lid,
Ashamed that he terrified,
That poor little kid,

Jack went back home,
And he cried and cried,
Because the evil clown,
It came from his mind.

The World’s Best Pizza Place

One day I was hungry,
But I didn’t want to cook,
So I went to my computer,
And online I took a look,

At what was said to be,
The World’s Best Pizza Place,
So I could order something,
With which to stuff my face,

The website said, ‘Our pizzas,
They really are the best,
Our pizzas are so much more,
Livelier than the rest!’

This sounded tempting,
So from them I did buy,
It was quite pricy,
But was worth a try.

They brought me my pizza,
And when I opened the box,
It then spoke to me,
It was quite a shock,

‘Please don’t eat me,
Let me live in your home,
It looks pretty nice,
A fine place to own.’

Well, the Pizza Place did
Just as it should,
It made the world’s best pizzas,
They made them too good.