Gargoyle Poems - Poems about Gargoyle

Gremlin and Gargoyle, a couple of giant alley cats Swing their tails hard, knocking away six measly rats They were looking for something meaty to eat Finally found a opossum carcass, now isn’t that sweet?...

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What was that huge thing leaping over the gate? My eyes did not lie; it was a gargoyle named Nate. I had not seen him since my birthday when I was eight. I asked where he had been, and he showed me a skate. I have been winning contests around the world now. The spectators are amazed, and all say,...

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steering blatant revelries, ghouls engaged to death chomping down streetlight openings in bitter stone bow walled yew tree drifters, steps of many feet in shallow parade to pew, the kneel cushion's betrayal - how the shadowless crave… and the headless sing...

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a giant genuine gargoyle greets you said the gothic cathedral host. as if this terrifying statue of scariness is a good thing of which to boast. the kindergarteners were screaming as they got off the tour bus. it took weeks for us to simmer them down, me and my teacher pal Gus. never again we told the principal, we...

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extreme the hand snatch the cup I will collect pride very good morning my injured limbs my sons remember that time only disasters? but everything in the flesh achieves healing and already my defeats knew before: the audacity of courage ignores who will soon wear shame she shrinks she hermit gets shy spreads the sour scent of runaways quarter to six I woke up coffee how many...

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Winged gargoyle appeared in my sleep with glaring teeth. I felt intimidated, there seemed to be sinister ways beneath. Why would the sleep faerie put such a gargoyle in my dream? I ran from this monster, my terrified heart pumping full steam!...

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What makes this faerie special? She is naked. The gargoyle rolled his eyes. They are all naked under their clothes, he said. True enough. She is pretty. He scoffed. She is kind and generous. He kept waving his hand, encouraging her to tell him more. An expert at not having to hold up his end of a conversation....

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Gargoyle Dog with his sharp angry claws Hooded Skeleton sat on a throne of skele-raws. They had borrowed Grim Reaper’s murdering scythe. The better to kill trick-or-treaters and others with. Ebony raven flew past, terrified of this seasonal pair. Skeleton thrones made of HS’s brothers put evil in the air. His leering toothy grin encouraged a pronounced sense of horror. Graveyard was...

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A gargoyle with an injured paw Tried to dance at Ma’s corn pone heehaw. Unfortunately he hurt his jaw. Loud crow came by, hit him with his caw. The hoedown was pretty much in full swing. When ghosts crashed it with a ting-a-ling. The gargoyle got mad. His fight he did bring. They all ended up in the pokey. One in a...

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water spurting from a gargoyle spout… I am drawn to the gurgling of a baby in his mother’s arms - - - - - - - - - - - - - - © 20th January 2020 [Published in Cattails Spring/April issue 2020 p. 86] Editor’s choice: The hinge of the poem by Paul Callus...

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Gargoyle sits on Magnificent Mile Glaring at passengers Most never smile They head for the El They’re headed out west Where they live with their families Who think they’re the best…. Gargoyle glares as they get off the train. Hates them soundly with his mean concrete brain. His life until two thousand and twenty Now he waits for people, there ain’t many. Did they die? ...

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Gargoyles, gargoyles, in the air, it sets my heart to fright, flying on their leathery wings through the Stygian night. Gargoyles, gargoyles, I can see when they emerge from stone, eyes glowing blue in the darkness as endlessly they roam. Most will say that I’m a madman, see ghosts where there are none, but I have seen the gargoyles, even got close to one. Saw the large,...

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I now live in the country Where I can take my pet gargoyle for a brisk walk Among roosters, foxes, and quail. They pretend indifference. None staring None pointing feathers, claws or paws. Not one screaming or shrieking. Not one crossing the street in a prissy, haughty way Like the stuck-up New Yorkers do when I take him for a Walk down Fifth...

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There a premodern smile does emerge From a hymn and a funeral dirge For it e’er hails the skies With its wise stony eyes Knowing heaven and earth soon must merge...

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The Gargoyle Yawns The Fogwalker searches for clues in the moist darkness of early morning. The mist feels it's way through empty alleys and vacant lots. Cautious footsteps crackle from the gravel pathway lined with broken glass and dry leaves, evidence the Autumn Equinox has smothered the last breath of summer. Gangways between decaying...

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