When I worked on my book Nightmares, the first poem that I wrote was “The Bogeyman,” because that was the creature I remembered most vividly from my own childhood. I decided that having the bogeyman come to my house was a bit too scary, so I put my bogeyman in a remote and dreadful location. As long as you don’t go there, you’re all right, but if you do go there…well, that’s another matter entirely. That’s one of the things about writing poetry: You’re always free to change whatever you want. You can change the place, the time, and the events—and of course you can add or subtract whatever you want.
If the creature you have in mind isn’t as big as you want it to be, make it bigger. If it’s too big for your purposes, make it smaller. Alter its shape and color and hairstyle. The only limitation is your own imagination. That’s part of the power of the creative process.
The Bogeyman
In the desolate depths of a perilous place
the bogeyman lurks, with a snarl on his face.
Never dare, never dare to approach his dark lair
for he’s waiting…just waiting…to get you.
He skulks in the shadows, relentless and wild
in his search for a tender, delectable child.
With his steely sharp claws and his slavering jaws
oh he’s waiting…just waiting…to get you.
Many have entered his dreary domain
but not even one has been heard from again.
They no doubt made a feast for the butchering beast
and he’s waiting…just waiting…to get you.
In that sulphurous, sunless and sinister place
he’ll crumple your bones in his bogey embrace.
Never never go near if you hold your life dear,
for oh!…what he’ll do…when he gets you!