WHAT HAPPENED TO HARRY BLAKE? Keith Garrett

He drove to the mountains, to Stoney Woods,

He wanted to run, to get away from his life.

To a big house where he would not be bothered

Or found by the outside world.

Stormy weather was approaching as he headed up the mountain,

If he hurried, then he could make it before it hit.

Alone he would be as he pulled up to this big house

That stood all alone among tall trees,

He got his things and went inside where dusty furniture sat in the dark.

It was cold, but there was a big, old fireplace.

Harry gathered some wood and started a nice fire

That kept this creepy place lit for the night,

Harry didn’t know it, but someone or something was there watching.

Alone on the 31st of October, Halloween in Stoney Woods,

It was late, the fire fading, sleep took him away.

At morning’s light, Harry was gone; where did he go?

On October 31st every year the fire burns in a dark house.

Up on a mountain in Stoney Woods you can hear the echoing

Voice of Harry Blake, never seen again.

               WHAT MY EYES SEE

My eyes see differently than once a child did see,

Reality of all that’s around, a world of recognized sounds.

What my eyes see are not the coloring books and cartoons,

Not the exploring of our neighborhood and childish ways.

Not the magical world from a young boy’s eyes lost with time,

What my eyes see is a different kind of beauty and some Insanity.

This world has changed along with the changes in me,

What my eyes see are so many things which I never dreamed.

                     Keith Garrett

             UNDER THE BRIDGE

It’s a bad path you take when under the bridge you go,

Let there be no slip or fall; it’ll be the end of you.

He’s so ugly and mean, a shade of green,

Hungers for the flesh, a taste he seeks.

His teeth so sharp, a foul smell to his breath,

Eyes like saucers, horns on his head.

Hands so big, his nails razor sharp,

Feet of a monster, toes that curl up.

A sound he makes, so disgusting to the ear,

It will make your skin crawl; out comes the fear.

Bones all around as he’s eaten many who cross his ground,

Under the bridge, this horrible troll lives.

                                Keith Garrett

         HE HAS A NAME OF FEAR

At one time I’m sure he was a little boy,

Scared by demons of his early world.

The sound of his name brings chills of fright,

To children everywhere as he haunts their life.

Watch out!, Watch out!, for the boogey man,

He may be hiding under your bed if he can.

In the dark of your closet, he may be watching you,

Keep your feet in the bed, keep your closet closed.

The boogeyman strikes on a dark lonely street,

In shadows of the night, behind a standing tree.

Keep your blankets to your eyes, your curtains closed,

When you shut out your lights, will he be standing in your room?

Look out for the man, he has a name of fear,

He’ll scare you to death, the boogeyman is near.

            Keith Garrett

        SHADOWS OF FRIGHT

They appear as they are while I lay in my bed at night,

The light from the moon shines through my window.

Spiders crawl up and down the walls; my eyes follow,

Images of snakes on the ceiling above slither along.

Bats with fangs, their shadows I do see,

Flying on by, I have fear through the night.

Vampires with a thirst for blood are a haunting sight,

What do I see but only a silhouette of a monster?

Creatures of the night, shadows of fright,

Mummies and werewolves out on an Autumn night.

Frankenstein wanders, but it’s only a shadow to me,

A vision of that which is horror you see.

A glimpse of a witch on a broom flying high,

The stroke of midnight, a shadow across the sky.

              Keith Garrett 

      BAD  THINGS

I am everywhere and all the time,

Sometimes maybe a nightmare for you, a violent crime.

A car accident of horror, families’ loss of life,

A plane crash in the ocean on an October night.

I am a house on fire, a tragedy of fright,

Murder in the woods or a lightning strike.

Anger and bad thoughts are what I’m about,

You can’t hide from me because I am all around,

Bad things with two legs, bad things without sound.

I’m always on the news, I have a story to tell,

I’m a fight in the park, a lost soul never found.

Trick or treat on a Halloween night,

A knock on a door, bad things you might find.

        Keith Garrett 

                CATS  EYES

Does it have nine lives, cats’ eyes,

On All Hallows’ Eve, a black cat hides and watches.

With eyes all a glow, it stalks you,

Legend has it that on this night, stay from its path.

Cursed with evil from a feline’s contact,

Strolls in silence through this dark October night.

With an angry hiss, teeth shown with a warning,

Strike it will, suddenly with speed, claws upon you.

Cat’s eyes under a full moon, you’ll maybe find,

Swiftly disappears into a windy Fall night.

               Keith Garrett

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           DREAM STATE

I know I’m lying here alive, half dead,

Horror and fantasy fill my head, never to stop.

I’m chased through the woods by a man with no face,

Hatchet in his hand for all eternity.

Always a different story, pictures in my mind,

I can’t wake up, I don’t know why.

Pushed from a rooftop on a never-ending fall,

About to hit the ground, monsters reach for the sky.

Up the stairs they walk me, I see the hangman’s noose,

Around my neck, the noose tightens as I drop in fear.

Demons that fly chase me from the sky,

Wicked sounds they make as I scream in the night.

Am I in a coma or bad dreams from my bed,

Could I be in hell, am I really dead?

My dream state does not end, a living hell,

In a cage full of snakes as psychotic souls laugh with delight.

Is this only but a dream state? Keith Garrett

           PIECES OF TIME

Our time as humans, animals, anything living loses time,

All created things age with time; there are many quotes about time.

Time does get older, but never does it go away, never backwards,

A clock, a watch, the ancient sundial that watched our day pass,

An hourglass of sand, those which remind us always of our time.

Pieces of time, a memory thought of with long lost friends, older now,

Pictures on a mantle, photographs and picture albums, dust -covered.

Antiques, old relics lost with time, discovered within aging places,

Pieces of time, an old remembered house, friends that rest inside.

                                         Keith Garrett

      LISTEN TO THE DRUMBEAT 

Thump, thump, hear the sound that makes the world go around,

Feel the pounding of its rhythm, the drum beats hard, the heart beats fast.

Listen to the drumbeat that lives inside, listen to music, the drumbeat cries,

Boom, boom, echoes through the sky, thunder is the drum, it beats out loud.

Wait for the rumbling as the shaking earth trembles with an awesome fear,

Bang, bang, listen as the sleeping child’s heart comes to life in the dark of night.

Bombs and gunfire sing through the war-beaten land, thump, thump,

The drum beats slow, the drum beats fast, a mother’s terror as her son dies.

The dancing boxer, hard hit as he is dropped to the floor, beat of his heart,

Thump, thump, boom, boom, goes his heart like the drumbeat so slow.

Listen to the drumbeat, to the sound of wandering feet, like a drum,

A first breath of life, a slower and slower beat of the fading, going away.

                 Keith Garrett