Ask for opinions.
Mull it over. Then you can.
Just do what you want.

Haikus confuse me
Too often they make no sense
hand me the pliers.

Only so many
And so much to get done.
I’d rather take nap.

Company coming?
And your house is a big mess?
Just put on lipstick.

I think my chickens are possessed
My wife is very much distressed
Their feathers are all dishevelled
And the eggs they lay are devilled

- Paul Curtis

Those little darlings
With their angelic eyes
Look harmless enough
But beneath their disguise

They’re nothing but thugs
With pure evil intent
These spawn of Satan
Are not heaven sent

These foul blackguards
Going about their sport
They say “Trick or treat”
As they happily extort

They squirt fake blood
On my front door
They egg my new car
I can’t take any more

I sit counting the minutes
Am I the only one?
Who just can’t wait
Till Halloween is done.
- Paul Curtis

In case of not being,
able to count up to seven,
you can use your fingers.

I think haikus suck.
Has to be five seven five.
Who came up with this?

I woke up to a funny noise, it went scrape, scrapity, scrape,
It did not sound like flesh or foul, like halibut or hake,
It was the ghost of Long Tom Mouse, a phantom rodent dark,
Who’s haunted every bungalow, from here to Duthie Park.

Some say he met a grisly end at the paws of an old tom cat,
While others say a carving knife sliced him here upon this mat,
But never mind, we have no time for hairy, scary, talks,
His spirit now it is abroad, he creeps, he creaks, he walks!

And on a silver moonlight night when owls do hoot and cry,
Please turn your face o’er to the wall as old Long Tom goes by,
Be sure to leave some cheese and curds, some token of respect,
Or else he’ll haunt your skirting boards when e’re you least suspect!

- Max Scratchamnn

Lots of guilt to share.
What am I doing wrong now?
A Jewish mother.

If vampires can't see
Their own reflection
In a mirror or anything else
That's shiny

Then the thing I
Have always wondered is
How do they manage
To keep their hair tidy?

- Paul Curtis

The rule for today.
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.

The ocean is big,
And also it is pretty,
Pretty freakin' wet.

When the harvest moon is full and bright,
And the wolf bane blooms on an autumn night,
If the guy whose kiss used to make you swoon
Starts to lick his lips and howl at the moon,
You'd best decline if he asks you out for a bite.

- Jim Slaughter

Wanna go outside.
Oh NO! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!

You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will sure show you.

The prowling youth
With fangs and cape
From trick or treat
There's no escape

Unless you make
Your own trick treats
And hand out bags
Of Ex-lax sweets.

- Patrick Winstanley

You think you're big.
With your fancy little words.
This is not so hard.

Row row row your boat.
Rowing gently down the stream.
Life is so extreme.

World is vast and wide.
So much out there to explore.
Right now, let's eat lunch.

My next door neighbor is a witch,
And she lives way down in a ditch.
Her clothing is a little strange,
Because she never wants to change.
She has a black robe and a black hat,
Green skin and a smelly black cat.
A big fat wart grows on her nose,
And seventeen pimples on her toes.

But...her food is EVEN worse,
Because she eats it course by course.
Her first course is seven dead bats,
Laid on top of seven rats.
Then she has twenty flies
With lots and lots of llama eyes.
Her main course is a horrible soup,
Because it's made with doggie poop.
But worst of all is her dessert.
It's little children rolled in dirt.

Last night she had a witch's feast
And turned into a greedy beast.
I think she cooked my best friend Tilly
And ate her with some peas and broccoli.

- by Samiya Vallee

I knew this gambler.
He bet it all on a bluff.
He is now homeless.

Help, me I am trapped
In a haiku factory
save me, before they

I like kittens, YEAH!
They are really fluffy, YEAH!
OMG KITTENS.

You use computers.
IPods, mobiles, cameras.
Why not write letters?

Rattle-skattle skeletons
clitter-clack each bone
Shrieksome banshees circle
and werewolves howl and moan.
Sh-sh-shake and shiver spectres
weeshly whisk along the halls
while plumptious orange pumpkins
throw their shadows on the walls.
Double-trouble witchy twins
are cooking up commotion
with rosy poison apples
bib-bobbing in their potion.
Black cats hide in shadows
with topaz eyes ashine
whilst Mummies gently moulder
in the cellar with the wine.
SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRATCH! and RAT-A-TAT!
Zoiks! Zombies — in the street!
Halloweenies here to party —
and cackling:
TRICK OR TREAT!

- Sarah Ziman

Musta woke with feelings of dread;
I bet that he thought he was dead.
Upon its unmasking,
The question I’m asking:
’Twas the ghost of white or wheat bread?

- by Jeff Kyser