Haiku my Heart ---Halloween Haiku

children in costume

ringing doorbells everywhere

begging for sweet treats

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peaceful and beautiful

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*****

And now, as promised,

a brief Halloween story.  It isn't scary.  It isn't bloody.  But I do hope you will be slightly rattled, unsettled, nauseated, repulsed,

and perhaps

you can find some bit of Halloween Humor

and a little cackle or two. 

***

OBSESSION

In the dim light, the long narrow box on the table sits with closed lid, not revealing the magical treasures inside. Treasures that will help me fulfill every need, all wants, each single thought that has consumed most waking, and sleeping, moments of my life.

Since I first saw his tall, narrow frame, heard his dull, monotone voice, understood his malevolent ways, I have wanted him. Wanted him so fiercely that nothing could compare with my obsession.  I abandoned all else in my quest  to make him mine. We are so much alike.  Our wants are parallel  and our needs are filled with the fires of the obscene.

Mentally and emotionally, I have been getting closer; watched with joy when his mother  finally met her fate,  no longer able to wreak havoc in his life. What good was she anyway?  Always clinging, enticing him to expand on his already vile thoughts. He and I should have been expanding together. Oh, such evil we can make between us. What poison we will be in sync.  The hot love in my heart (and loins) can now be his.  I have made my way through the webs and mazes of life, hidden in shadow, and now I am close enough to smell his warm, metallic, vile, thick odor. 

Tonight, the box on the table is ready to be opened. I have filled the darkened room with red candlelight, and one by one I take out the cache of spell makers I have been hoarding for so long:  a coarse hair from a pig nostril, a dried wart from a rattlesnake skin, a ground leaf from the poison manchineel tree, a partially decayed tooth from his dead mother’s jaw (don’t ask how I obtained that), and the bottle of slime from the edge of a swampy, parasite infested  pond. I mix this with the grainy sulpher from a matchstick and drink it in one gulp, as I chant  the sacred words of the binding love spell:

Ompf  inuwargon

Cranr  luvtor

And whisper his name twenty and four times in twelve groups of two:

Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates

Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates

Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates

Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates

Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates

Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates     Norman Bates

And now, I am drained and exhausted. (ok, mostly from typing that twenty-four times)  But when the red morning sky lights the faded neon outlining his paint-chipped grey, leaning house on the hill, he will know then he is now mine!

END

me

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Halloween fun

** my love

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Be safe.  Muah ha ha ha