CAULDRON OF DESTRUCTION
A big black pot, boiling over an open fire, in the
dark of night,
They conjure on this night, a spell, but does it
Work already?
Into it, a lying tongue since the dawn of man,
Smell fills the air,
A hand that represents the false handshake of
Politics in our land.
Smiling eyes that look to you until your back is
Turned, change the evil.
Broken promises throughout the world at the
Expense Of the innocent ones.
Fill it up! toss in some more, how about the greed
Of man that will stink till dawn,
The look of hate, we've seen it everywhere, a little
Of this goes a long way.
Watch as it boils, cooks in the dark beneath a full
Moon, there's more to do.
Go ahead! add some of the selfishness, there's so
much to go around,
Cauldron of destruction has been ready, boiling for
Years upon years,
Have a cup, what harm can it do, we've had it before,
There's a spell on you.
Keith Garrett
I HAUNT YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD ON HALLOWEEN.
Waiting for the light of day to come to its end, watching,
I’m there in the shadows, behind the trees I lurk.
This is my night but you may think it’s yours, let’s find out,
Celebrate the faces you wear, I wear only one face, darkness.
Inside your houses, hide you should but there is no
Intelligence in you,
You’ll walk the night with your children hunting for a
Chocolate or treat.
Up in the trees as the wind blows is where you might
Find me, maybe,
The moon is full as it sits in the wide-open night sky.
I move as you move through your neighborhood streets,
seeing what you see, awaiting you, waiting for a different
Treat.
There’s something stalking, hunting without a trace,
Quietly there,
By morning I’ll be gone but with me some of those
Whom wear masks.
Am I like you or do you pretend to resemble what I am?
What I am has a face that changes with each season,
Tonight no face.
I haunt your neighborhood on Halloween, I am this
Nightmare that you will never dream, I am in your
Neighborhood.
Keith Garrett
HORRIBLE HOUSE
There’s a horrible house with horrible things,
It’s deep in a forest where there live horrible people.
Horrible thoughts from horrible minds,
Horrible deeds, horrible crimes.
Don’t go to the door, you’ll never escape,
If you see their horrible faces, your screams
Will echo into the night.
A horrible place, horrible for you to discover,
What horrible things they’ll do for dinner.
Stay away from this horrible house,
Horrible things will surely happen to you.
Horrible house has had many visitors,
They walked through the forest and did not
Escape.
Those horrible faces in that horrible home.
Keith Garrett
BLIND IN A CASTLE OF FEAR
My mother sent me here to live for the fall, with my
Aunt Louise,
I do not know her very well, but she was always
Strange and mysterious.
blind since I was about five years old, I can’t
Recall what she looks like,
A huge castle of stone, in our family for centuries.
Through times of war,
old England, now surrounded by many new things
Of the modern age.
In this castle are antiques from a different time
In this world, old weapons,
Dungeons and secret room are here, stories told
To me by my grand father.
Very quiet here as I spend my time listening to the wind
And leaves falling,
Off to bed, upstairs, where the walls are thick, and tales
From the past.
Tonight will be dark, but for me every night holds
Darkness as I am blind,
Awaken do I to some eerie sounds from within
The walls, moaning, groaning.
I call for my aunt but not a response, my heart
Pounds, nervous am I,
Then again, more sounds are heard, whispering
Words into my sightless night.
I’m afraid! so very scared as now the sound of
Footsteps seem to be closer, I can’t see,
Who are you! I can’t see as the touch of something
Is upon me. I never had a chance to see.
Keith Garrett
A SAD CLOWN
A SAD CLOWN
A smile on his face, frown lives underneath,
Watch the children laugh at this simple clown on
The street.
An entertainer of fun and laughs, for a small price
You pay,
That's what you may think until his chuckle lures
You away.
A clown of mischief, there's more to him than
Meets the eye,
When the sun goes, wicked and mean, he'll
Make you scream.
A sad clown Indeed, covered under a mask of
Makeup, A monster is he.
He'll dance for you, and maybe throw confetti
Around, Kill does this sad clown,
Ride a small bike, juggle in the air, follow you
through the park. death everywhere.
Big funny shoes, baggy pants not so neat, not
Just a clown, never want to meet,
Keith Garrett
ROBE AND MASK OF BLACK
He watches, at times you see him in a dream,
Alone you are in a dark house on a hill top.
Out there, standing in the night, the wind howling,
you peek out of your window, he knows you are there.
Dressed in a robe and mask of black, waiting,
You do not awake as your heart races.
He does not move but he can feel you behind
Your closed curtains,
The fear in you is in his conscious mind.
Everything to you is black, of darkness,
As if there is no other person alive on this Earth
except for you and him.
Relieved that you are now awake, you get up wondering,
There’s a feeling that you must check, peek out of the
Window.
Out there, in the darkness, a robe of mask and black,
He watches. Keith Garrett
PRISON OF FEAR
On this Island, I am stranded, no one knows
I am here,
I am sought, for they know my whereabouts.
Not only am I trying to survive, but now I must hide.
Never staying in the same spot, this is no home,
Through the night it is that I try to sleep, but I
Must keep watch,
A Prison of fear has become my existence.
Every day, each night, I take refuge in a different site,
It’s now morning’s light once more, time to move on.
I am hungry as I quietly hide, things to eat here and there,
To live this way for the rest of my life would be a most
certain hell.
They are always on the hunt, following through
the brush,
Over a hill or in the distance.
I will eventually tire, they will find me,
They are my fear, and this is my prison of fear.
Keith Garrett
PORFINIFIGUS
Where he comes from, nobody knows, he does live,
A myth, a fable, only a child believes, one who has seen.
Along the riverbank of a small eastern town in Maine,
A place of play for a boy named Luke, this is no dream.
Many fantastic tales he does tell, who will listen this time?
Described to others as a type of elf, an ugly troll.
Many late afternoons is when Luke visits the river,
Today it is a bit windy, he will appear once more.
He speaks to Luke in whispers, I am Porfinifigus,
I am created from your thoughts and fears.
Why do you find me here each day, are you real?
I told you that I live in you, you gave me a name.
There are wishes that you ask for, I can hear you,
With every wish there comes a curse.
I have many things to wish for, will they be mine?
For everything you receive, something I will take.
I wish for all things in this town be mine,
Foolish boy, everything in this town be nomore.
Keith Garrett
,
ONE A. M.
ONE A.M.
When they come, they come in force, from
Somewhere,
From everywhere they surround amd take
Whatever is found.
These things that they are, never do you want
To meet,
Their hearts are of black, you are nothing more
To them than can be used.
There is no mercy shown when they lay their
Claws Upon you,
Lock your doors, you already know that every
Year At One A.M.
On Halloween it is them who come from some
Place of mystery,
Horrible to you but to them a feast on this
Night After The midnight hour.
Hide as you do where they can not see as they
Will not search for you,
For the foolish, the ones who don't believe or
Don't Think it will happen again.
At one A.M. if you are within sight, then on this
Night You will have no life.
Keith Garrett
NIGHTMARE IN YORBA LINDA
NIGHTMARE IN YORBA LINDA
Somethung is coming, what kind of evil
Lurks on Halloween?
He lived there way back in nineteen seventy
two, He has returned.
Tormented by some or bullied by others
Who he Could not forget,
Once only a child with a family, roamed Yorba
Linda Neighborhoods.
Grown up now with much vengence in his heart,
He Has come home,
A list is held inside, there are names of those
Whom Are still here.
He hunts for you on this again, October night,
You Have no idea,
Changed over the years as most do, deranged
As a Man loses his mind.
Be weary of whom might ring your doorbell this
Halloween night,
Again, so many years later, a man who was once
A child, perhaps a friend.
Walks the streets of Yorba in the dark of night,
Seeking His revenge,
A nightmare comes to Yorba Linda, lock your doors!
He's On his way,
Watch for his eyes, when the night is done, he
May go away.
Keith Garrett
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