This Poem was Submitted By: charles r pitts On Date: 2007-10-26 17:11:13 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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the sackman gather round ye one and all
this tale makes even dead skin crawl
tonight there'll be no rest a'tall
when the storytelling's done
my tale begins in a forest deep
when the world we know is fast asleep
a silent nameless evil creeps
when dead the daylight sun
he preys on strays that walk alone
when the moon grows pale as polished bone
black eyes and heart as cold as stone
with murder on his mind
dingy blood-soaked robes he wears
through lifeless doll's eyes hunger stares
the innocent caught unawares
as gleaming canines grind
slung across his ogre-ish back
a coppered rust-stained corpse's sack
for feeding flesh and bones to crack
in shadow makes his way
and the children he finds late at night
walking alone by dying light
freeze terror-stricken their last sight
and ne'er the light of day.
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Copyright © October 2007 charles r pitts
Additional Notes:
as a child my best friends mother didnt like me much back then and used to tell me that the sackman lived in the woods i had to walk through to get home so i would leave before dark. usually i made it but every once in a while.....
This Poem was Critiqued By: Gary L Heacock On Date: 2007-11-11 20:52:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Best holiday poem I've read in a long time, truth is always stranger then fiction. Being told this story as truth to a child is not only cruel, but brilliant at the same time. Bet it truly keep you from hanging out to long.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul H. Roefs On Date: 2007-10-31 02:52:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Charles,
Great job on this wonderful frightening poem. The structure, rhyme scheme and wonderful
imagery makes this a delightful work of art. The read is smooth as the skin of a silk rose pedal.
Your choice of words throughout draws one into the mind-set of a child having to go it alone
when he is certain the devil, gobulins and that killer, Sackman is going to get him for sure. I
was taken back to my childhood days as though it was yesterday. I remember when I had to walk past an old church graveyard on my way home from Grandma's. How my blood would curdle and shivers went up my spine, whenever I stay to late on a Saturday evening. I find nothing for this poem and poet but praise in this critique.. Thank you for posting your poem. My best to you and I will read more of your poetry, Paul
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2007-10-30 22:25:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Charles,
Be I a child told that tale, I'd have a heart attack. Going into a darken basement scared me
enough. I can imagine walking only in the light of day also. And I'll bet you that at night you ran through fast.
It's interesting how that fright stays with you after all the years.
I'm not much into scary fright night movies either.
Well you took me down that path but now I'm back.
boo.....
Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rene L Bennett On Date: 2007-10-29 01:13:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.62500
Wow, I gotta say, this is a really good write and even more eireer knowing this is writen from a childhood fright. That wasn't very nice of your friends mom to scare you like that but it does make for a great write.
Rene'
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2007-10-28 13:58:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
And well it is so appropriate to Hallow's Eve, Charlie. Still don't know that I wouldn't
prefer that sackman to your friend's mother. It's always been my contention that the seed
of evil begins amongst the five o'clocker speeding home from work or the tidiest of all little
housewives. What gets in their way, not always the victim of "innocent" accident.
To the tune that a Halloween tale could be woven about the neighborhood socker mom that didn't
need a mask to scare the hell out of any in the neighborhood on a trick or treat venture.
Recalling the local mom that made national headlines by contracting the murder of her daughter's
competition in cheerleader try-outs.
You have a way spinning the tale and close rhyming couplet. Enjoyed both your tale and strum of
tight verse structure.
JCH
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2007-10-27 18:42:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.90476
Great tale for this week my friend and indeed frightening even for the dead........sorry your friend's mom did this to you back then ......always frightening walking through the woods alone whether day or night.....your words do flow very well though and images continue as does the walk through the woods.......the sackman....neat title too.......
slung across his ogre-ish back
a coppered rust-stained corpse's sack
for feeding flesh and bones to crack
in shadow makes his way (this is so striking to ones mind and I will always check the woods behind the house before venturing too far in).....Enjoy the holiday........might even make a great little story book for children.......God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2007-10-26 20:46:57
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84615
Charles,
This is simply deliciously delightful...perfect for this time of year. The rhyme pattern and the word flow made for a splendid read both to self and out loud. Had to read this to my gran-babies and they just howled, so this evening they are playing "scare each other" by hiding in the dark recess of the house.. I only had one stumbling spot and that was in L8, not quite sure about the meaning there, but that is my only nit. Just loved this, how clever of you to put a childhood memory in to such a wonderful poem.
Best always,
Lora
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