#CoffinHop | Adieu, Adieu…We have a winner

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As all good things and bad things must eventually come to an end so the #CoffinHop “Terrible Myths & Legends” Death Masquerade has come to an end.

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The witching hour has come and gone, the monsters, the myths, the legends, the creatures, the gods and goddesses have left this world of the living and returned to the Netherworlds.

But…we have a Best Masked Winner…

Johanna K. Pitcairn

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Congratulations Johanna!
You have won an Amazon Gift Card and a Kintsugi Poets Ebook bundle.
Check your inbox.

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The Kintsugi Poets thank everyone who came and danced at the Masquerade Ball this year. The event was spectacular.

A special thank you to our #CoffinHop terrificfying Overlord and Master:
Axel Howerton for another amazing #CoffinHop. Roll on 2015.

Images used in this post

Time courtesy of Anna Laero (anina)

Mask & Chandelier courtesy of – kapturevision

Masquerade Candy table courtesy of – kapturevision

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#CoffinHop | Requiem at The Death Masquerade Ball

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Lost Identity by Tomasz Alen Kopera ©.

The time has come to bid adieu
Creatures remove their masks
The sirens sing a terrible requiem
The banshees shriek with unearthly delight
The werewolves howl into the night
The spirits moan with grief

Nasnus rattles his cage of bones and flesh trapped in rage and Grief
Ravens cackle and caw, taking wing bid their dark mistress Morrigan Adieu
Spirits wrathful, Spirits vengeful retreat into Van Gogh’s endless Night
She rises in fire born in Dragons’ breath, Leaving a trail of singed Masks
The fae dance a dirge as the night unmasks decay hidden in dead Delight
A keening claws at the air as the banshees sing their final Requiem

Ghostly queens, haunted kings dance to their madness in sweet Requiem
The sand walker drowns his prey in the immortal sands of Grief
Silvery sidhe spin the bewitched across the starburnt night in Delight
Spirits murdered long ago, kiss their beloved a hallowed Adieu
Samhain’s moon rises in skies of blood, the wild hunt tear away your masks
The gods cursed by pride flee into the murderous Night

Iridescent masks of silver stardust fall away revealing monsters of Night
Feasting on canapés of terror, feasting on nightmares in Hypnos’ Requiem
The blood moon rises, terrible creatures shed their faceless masks
Bones break, spines twist unmasking wolves driven mad by their Grief
Bound by their curse, madness is both their solace and Adieu
Only the forest and fog hide their bloodthirsty Delight

The forgotten gods revel in the music dancing in sinful Delight
Faceless Chaos in mask of anthracite, Nyx feared Queen of the Night
Beautiful Mesperyian cloaked in robes bloodied by those long bid Adieu
All creatures pale to the searing power of their King and Queen’s Requiem
Hades’ dark cruelty masked tonight, His lover’s torment his only Grief,
Persephone, a vision in liquid mercury, glides in his arms watched by Masks

Creatures remove their Masks
The banshees shriek with unearthly delight
The spirits moan with grief
The werewolves howl into the night
The sirens sing a terrible requiem
The time has come to bid adieu

All seekers of night and masks, Spirits of All Hallows’ eve bid you Adieu
Those graveyards are emptied as the dead rise with delight, to this Requiem
Forgotten is the grief, hush as the Spirits dance you into the Night

© All Rights Reserved Kim Koning

Thank you for attending the Death Masquerade Ball this year.
All good and bad things come to an end, so too must our dance in the 2014 CoffinHop.
The creatures, gods and goddesses, myths and legends bid you all a dark adieu….time for the curtains between words and worlds to draw closed.
Adieu until CoffinHop 2015.

Thank you to our fellow coffinhoppers. Thank you to you curious folk who dared to hop past our coffins this year.

The entries are being tallied for our fabulous giveaway. The winner will be announced on Monday, 3rd November.

Wander down to the CoffinHop Boneyard…

The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…
Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

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#CoffinHop – The Snow Queen

Snow Queen

 

The Snow Queen

 

Do you have a heart, oh Glacial Queen?  Or does the frosty wind blow your love cold?  What do you see, when you gaze in the mirror?  Winter or Spring?  Or are you blinded by the snow?

 

Shattered glass festers

slivers buried in the heart

until it decays

 

Is it enough, to sit upon your throne of ice?  Surrounded by your flurry?  Do you yearn for a warm touch, a tender kiss, or has emotion gone, passed from your grasp, perpetually lost to you?  Did you trade your life for a Kingdom of Winter?

 

The bloom of roses

seeks love, recaptures essence

underneath the snow



© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE



Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop

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The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

HUSH MY LITTLE ONE #CoffinHop

photo credit: 尽在不言中 via photopin cc

Hush my little one, dry your tears
Sleep my child, forget your fears

Mummy’s here now, you’re safe and sound
The ghūls are far away, underground

The graveyard’s their home, and there they stay
So you’re safe from them, if you keep away

They need to feed, do beware
So let another, find their lair

Let their sacrifice, feed their lust
And give their life, for someone must

Else the ghūls will stray, into town
Choose a target, and strike them down

When they come, they’ll cause no fuss
Because they’ll change form, to one of us

They lure their victims, with such disguise
So remember this trick and don’t trust your eyes

The one way to tell, if it’s a ghūl
Is by their hooves, that’s the rule

What’s that you say? You see my feet
Yes they are hooved, but there’s no retreat

Your mummy’s already dead, I drank her blood
It tasted delicious, a warm dark flood

And as her life, began to fade
I thought of you and my mind was made

I’ll eat you first, and then the rest
Because I like… Children best

So be still my dear and don’t you cry
Your tears won’t save you, it’s time to die

 

Time’s running out to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE

 

Wander down to the CoffinHop Boneyard…

The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

#CoffinHop – Sandstorm

Desert

 

Sandstorm

 

Wasteland calling, for the reckless, rash fool

From sand rises death, with thin bones bare, bleached white

Tempest screaming, one name spoken- the ghoul

To chill the soul, madness, shiver in fright

Storm rider, reaper; escape won’t come, but run

Come the next day, the body left for the sun

So fear the sand, its fall, don’t join those few,

those lost secrets, buried, or you will rue

the hour terror followed, when dread arose

Never one left, no soul, to tell of true

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

Blind eye twisted, and a city stands, to rule

on the warm sand, spires so tall, so bright

Pride and hubris built the desert jewel

within the path, the grasp, of the hawk’s flight

And nothing’s safe, no life; it has begun

Hear the windstorm shrieking, conceit undone

Darkness descends, wailing a shadow hue,

no rain to wash the blood, just morning dew

Empty, haunted, their home- the fate they chose

They fed the beast crimson and evil grew

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

Ruins mark the time, in stone, a past too cruel

The sand erased the pain, but sees the blight

of crushed relics, splendour lost, in the duel

of opposed wills, the war of the long night

It stands alone, exile, the path most shun

A city torn, shattered, the dark tale spun

The sand is calm, again, a tranquil view

Yet underneath, they lurk, they will pursue

Never absent, they wait, they only doze

The desert bids, enter, and start anew

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

Refugees flee conflict, a people who’ll

face the desert, scurry to a worse plight

unknown to them; prey in the zephyr cool

as it rouses, as they watch all in sight

and feast that day on flesh, while sparing none

The sand ran red, harsh rivers to outrun

Blame given not to ghouls, but men who slew

Such is warfare, some said, under sky, blue

It is sad luck, to be bones for the crows

And went away, naive, without a clue

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

So remember, now with hunger they drool

Don’t tempt your life, not once, they’ll take a bite

They hide, they hunt, for you, meat to fuel

their appetite- that need, they take delight

in the killing, the death; it is their fun

In their desert, their sand, you will be done

No hope, escape, just skin and entrail spew

Others ventured, and died; they thought they knew

Stay far from sand, or else the edge will close

Discount, disdain, you’ll see, you’ll get your due

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows

 

In wind, in sand, we bide, wait the years through

Come closer now, that’s it- more limbs to chew

Tear off the flesh from bones, nibble on toes

Straggler, nomad, the same, you are all stew

Turn the season, and the desert wind blows





© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE



Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop

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The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

Midday Terror ~ #CoffinHop

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Midday sunshine
Church bells ring through
Steamy fields
Farmers run for shelter
Helter skelter
Some climb up tall trees

Twelve bell strikes resound
The Midday Witch
Comes out of ground
Black snakes peak
From underneath
Her black peaked hat
The old bat
Is on the way
To catch her prey

Groan she does and cackles:
I will get you all
Hee hee hee
I’ll put you all in shackles
My faithful snakes will
Bite and smite
I’ll bake you in a cake
Or grill you as a steak
So there!
Hee hee hee

Now then
Wriggly, hissing beasts
From underneath
The black peaked hat released
Enjoy rampaging
An orgy staging
For Midday Witch’s feast!

Church bells ring
Angels sing
The Midnight Knight will bring
His mighty dagger
Keep at bay
The hissing mob
No child will ever sob
So there!

War now rages rife
Midnight Knight
A fair fight fights
For precious life
His dagger swishes, slashes
Red blood splashes all around!

The Midday Witch at last
Concedes defeat
With her wriggly, hissing band
She makes a swift retreat
Down the gaping hole
In blood-stained ground

Church bells ring
Children sing
What a day it’s been!
To Midday Witch
They bid goodbye
So long!
Until next year
At Halloween!

*

Copyright ©2014 Irina Dimitric

*

#CoffinHop – Stairway to the Sky





Stairway to the Sky

 

Starlit moon,

perched far above

a stairway in the night

Ghostly light outshines

a mantle of ancient shadows

that cascades across the stone

A faint voice calls from the temple

adrift, swallowed in the crashing waves,

and echoing footsteps sounding from each step



© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE



Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop

IMG_4273.JPG

The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

A walk into Night…#CoffinHop by richard lynn livesay

tortured soul

daunting pain that clouds my mind
cuts deep with guilt I cannot hide
and all seems lost, there is no time
so cries my soul for the other side

there is no peace or kind release
of faces left, voids of regret
this self-judgment will never cease
cries my soul for the other side

as darkness is my only friend
I take a walk into the night
to be in the void of the end
my soul cries for the other side

darkness creeps inside my brain
I slide into that darkened coil
that twists my nerves to insane
my soul cries for the other side

so I entered the other side
was filled with misery and grief
in a mirror of my soul, I cried
to see my soul in false belief

THE INNKEEPER’S WARNING – #CoffinHop

Please, I beg you, don’t go out there!
He’s waiting for you in those woods–
A shadowed man upon his horse.
Now, I’ve heard tell, his skull was smashed,
Then up he rose to get revenge.
Oh, I see you don’t believe me.
“Madam,” you say, “you’re telling tales.”

But listen hard; you’ll hear his wails
Ushered by forewarning winds–those
Ghastly sobs from that same bugle,
Legend says, he was murdered with.
Entering those woods insures you’ll
Rest in peace–his fate’ll be yours.

~ Caroline Adele O’Brien
* The Phantom Bugler is said to be in the forests surrounding Forest Grove, Oregon.

GRAY LADY – #CoffinHop

Haunted sea-foam waves bash cliffs
Eddies tug at stranded ships, so
Climb the whimpering crooked trail
Every night the same path tread
Trembling fingers light the lamp
Aiming beam toward liquid grave

Her beacon escorts sailors home
Efforts lost upon the ghosts
Amidst the fog those sunken ships
Death-locked trapped in jagged cliffs
~ Caroline Adele O’Brien

*Heceta Head lighthouse (The Grey Lady) is located on the Oregon Coast just north of Florence.