LITTLE GARGOYLES ARE CUTE, BUT I GAVE THEM THE BOOT

I did my daily doomscrolling after midnight,

The spirits squeezed up to my body, really tight,

On all the channels I could see,

Videos strictly about me,

Fighting gargoyles, that were one tenth of my height.

THE HOWLING HOOD HUNTER

My doctor told me I was a werewolf, and there is nothing he can do,

Forever, I'll be howling at the moon, whenever it is full or new,

I will move out to the deep woods,

Where I can hunt Red Ridding Hoods,

Maybe I will learn to hunt some other Hoods, like yellow, green, black or blue.

BLOODSHOT: A VAMPIRE LIMERICK

Late at night, something scratched at my window, while I laid in bed,

I ignored it for a while, then it was scratching on my head,

It was a vampire rousing my veins,

He drank the blood headed into my brains,

Everyone at work next day, said my eyes were bloodshot red.

STANDING IN A GRAVEYARD AT MIDNIGHT: WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

I heard some movement underground, out amongst the rows of graves,

I saw hands pierce the wet earth, as the dead left their coffin caves,

I was quite vexed,

My feet froze, hexed,

The dead came walking forward, moving forward at me in waves.

THE GREAT BAY SERPENT.

There's a serpent living out in our great bay,

In the winter, that's where the serpent will stay,

Don't go out in a boat,

 He will sense where you float,

The serpent torments and eats boaters for play.

THE WHACKING GOBLIN AND THE SHIN TWIG

A little goblin was hanging outside my door,

The gob had a bow, an arrow, and one thing more,

He had a stick,

That little sick,

The gob whacked both of my shins, and did it times four.

                                                       <3

LORD OF THE GARBAGE TRUCKS

Seigneur De Mouches is my iconic known name,

Private garbage redistribution is my game,

If you don't pay your bill,

On your front yard we'll spill,

Then the great stink and the flies is how you'll find fame.

MY ROBOT AI APP IS CRAP

My kind robot named Terry,

Has become very scary,

I thought I'd give it a try,

I installed an app, AI,

Now at me, he is all starey. 

I COULD NOT GIVE UP WITCHCRAFT

I'm a reformed, great powers witch, but a back slider,

Because I turned a fly into a big, black spider,

The evil deed was all done,

My witch habit had re-begun,

I made the spider big, now I'm a spider rider.

THE FOREST PRIMEVAL MONSTER

I went to the snow filled forest, Primeval, today,

To cut down some trees, to heat my cabin until May,

Used a sleigh, pulled by dogs,

To bring back all my logs,

A forest monster, followed me back to where I stay.

THE LIVING AND THE GIN DEAD

Spirits from the undead, nether world, spoke to me, once again,

Through my dreams they warned me, about the spirit cast in my gin,

My newly made gin, perverts mortal sight,

Contaminated with full demon blight,

Too late for me, I'm drinking samples, from my cup of silver-tin.

FIST BUMPS AND FANGS

There was a little werewolf in the tree,

The werewolf sat there waiting, just for me,

He growled and showed he was grumpy,

So I gave him a fist bumpy,

He toothy smiled, and howled brilliantly. 

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THE CORN MOON BANCHEE

The Corn Moon rises up into the September sky,

Forest monsters are dancing, and weird pumpkins, they fly,

The great pigs we baste and roast,

Feeding any passing ghost,

While just this side of the Moore's, there's a lone banshe cry.

WHAT MY ZOMBIES WILL EAT

I kept a couple of zombies in my basement, for fun,

I fed them orange Jello, and pickled pigs feet on a bun,

They ate my wife, a librarian,

Then became brat, vegetarian,

Without pigs feet; it's orange Jello on a bun and I'm done.

WHERE THE BOOGEYMAN BE

There was a boogeyman who hung around a boogey-bog,

He had a big boogey-cat, and a little boogey-dog,

He drank boogey-beer,

He ate boogey-deer,

Then the bad boogeyman would sleep under a boogey-log.

STUCK ONCE BY TWO HORNS HURTS, STUCK TWICE BY TWO HORNS, MEANS GOODBYE

I came upon a Minotaur, and he gored me with his horns,

I had just been food shopping, so I dropped all my cans of corns,

I dropped my butter,

Started to stutter,

The meanie gored me again, now the limerick world mourns.

HOWLING, NO GOODS

I made paths through an acre of woods,

So I could stroll with friends from my hoods,

But, no one came near,

Because they said they could hear,

A howling, and that was not goods.

SIR ED NEEDS A DONATION

In the annuals of time, there was a dark night, called Sir Ed,

He became really vengeful, when someone cut off his head,

He'd ride searching, on his horse,

For a donor head, of course,

But, if Ed did find one, he would make the donor quite dead.

THE ZOMBIE RECKONING

Now that we zombies have won the last of all wars,

We are eating the living to settle old scores,

The living killed zombies, like dad,

That made me incredibly sad,

But, crackers, brains and marshmallows, make yummy s'mores.  

THE SIGN OF EVIL

I saw the sign of evil, I fear the most,

Six big locusts landed on my whole wheat toast,

My lower jaw made a sag,

Then I drooled on my dish rag,

I knew that by nightfall, I would be a ghost.