Grave Art Poems

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Details | Free verse |
White like the snow

Ice stiffened limbs
Reaching out
No saviors about

Snow flakes in the wind
I reached and reached and reached
Towards deaths cold hands

Never to see her again
I looked down
Wine of bloods holocaust

Flowing from my hands
Unto the devils abode
Whitest of Pyrenees days

I died beside her departure
Railroad tracks empty
Bloodless heart
Ashes black
Butterfly born

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018

Details | Epitaph |
Twilight, the phantoms of the past cavort
Willow trees bending to the winds of change
Eternity in the darkness of autumn nights
Never knowing whether I shall live or die
Tell me why my blood must feed the piercing thrusts
Yell and scream at me, I no longer fear my demise

Forever young, I dreamed of love
Over the waterfalls my dreams were tossed
Under the bridge where the evil gnomes live, dreams died
Running over my heart, the cold dark water to entomb me

Killing me they seem to feel, will be a pleasure
Not for me to speak up, for I desire it
Insight and realization that for me, illusions exist not
Visions of my body, torn and carved, replay in my head
Ever and ever and round and round
September’s knives shall slaughter me into the ground

Killing my soul was an easy task
Intended kisses you knew could not last
Luscious dreams turned into cold heartless nights
Licking my wounds and weeping in fright
Intense horrors, as the knives dig deeper
Nowhere to run and hide, no hideout for the forsaken
Gone are the hallucinations of a lover’s paradise

Memories of the 24 knives of September
Entwined in blood I shall take them to my grave

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | ABC |

Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night, 
from an evil source that I fear to strike. 
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices 
that when I found my stallion horses. 
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide, 
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide. 
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep 
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat 
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast. 
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.

by Keith Kadell

Copyright © Keith Relf | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The innocence is transfusing
and overturning 
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
and savaging
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
and foraging

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue |
She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror

Copyright © Bill Kim | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A full moon night to my delight what is so wrong with doing what's right nothing is right after so long no use in complaining time to move on The Dream Water one day might take me away farther from the comfort of familiarity I float on my back then shut my eyes my body now sinking into ocean arms open wide Now swallow your son back to his nature when he is no longer needed to stay here the next generation are dooming themselves they need my experience to guide them through hell Why should I bother on my own, I strive through I turn my back on the thought of bothering to save you alone in this world my, is it spacious I'm finally smiling, never so gracious.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |
Mountain Grave

I know you are scared
up into the sun lite sky
do not look down, SPLAT!

S IvyD

Copyright © Sandy Ivy D | Year Posted 2012

Details | Sonnet |
    CIL MAOLCHEADAIR   (Kilmalkedar)
On such an Irish spring and drizzle morn,
she wandered through the graveyard, looking for
the Celtic dream from which her past was born,
and every sight brought her to wanting more;

she dreamt her roots from carvings on a stone
as if she understood each chip as real,
passed down to only her, and her alone,
from pagan worship she could almost feel;

and she could bundle them within her mind
to share with Pennsylvania kith and kin,
perhaps the magic, if still there to find,
would be an understanding where they've been;

and she will burn her candles every night,
hoping Kilmalkedar will make it right.
       ©  ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose |
What I think of life is I love the sky,
more than I do the ground, and the clouds,
I am a goth girl who just desire clowns,
Gothelecktravampire see green grass,
she is loving being goth under the nun,
black dress she wears in the sun to not,
forget the pedals on/in the little flower,
I love life air especially, when it is cold,
on/in the inside of me sitting underneath,
a small tree,
it is cold outside time to sing along,
to my favorite songs,
that hide's deep inside the dirt of me,
busy thinking about the songs during the day,
of me not caring I will, and I am,
swimming in the sea patting a little flower, as well as a leaf,
goth songs are heart warming they make me smile,
I love being inspired by Evanescence,
she is my favorite music artist with a pen,
the coldness in the moth while being,
a goth,
is what it is still on my mind in last night, and today of day frame time,
looking across this gigantic huge thoughts of sky,
my profile page, and profile is,
forever mine,
I love to smell the tastes in life they are,
not a scare bee hive,
I love my life thinking about it, make,
me think of how much I have been regreting
looking at a sun flower at night they are,
a kind in which interest me,
they remind me of to much life,
just thinking about different ways,
to explain it, while relaxing in the 
background, a rose lily is in between,
my eyes I will not say goodbye,
to life yet it is my favorite,
to look out a window and, and to be
a day dreamer,
taking a apple brake to eat it,
I am eating it,
imagining eating a apple today,
while I am writing poetry,
instead of reading it, cannot stand
I miss writing,
I miss writing my words down,
it help, and keep, me sane,
at night when ever I want to
sleep at evening,
this universe is mine,
and nothing can replace it,

Copyright © Tameka Polk | Year Posted 2016

Details | Epic |
The stones slipped through the great fingertips of God
Each ligure staked its existence on the four corners of the universe
The quadrivial region began to spin and pull into a sphere
And pathways revealed their footholds 

The fourth ligure bravely landed in the midst of history
So that one day the future settlement of the second 
Would be moved by the last—by the past
Suffering much it stayed
Manifesting in incandescent words
Thrusting evanescence upon the weak
Selfless, it's sorrow would move the merriest
Would move the unmovable

The third lies in the profound valley of mystical guardians
Star-recruited, they are the very light above the canvas of gray
They embrace the stone—are inspired by the stone  
The very reflection of their creator was evident
Upon their unremitting glimmers
Unafraid to stare the others down
Motivated and construed by the glower of death
Eyes move fixedly beyond the simple vast

The second ligure rested upon the shoulders of invisible martyrs 
The hopeful power it planted on the sufferers was unbelievable
For spectators used their disbelief to cover their ever-placed envy
They never were part of the battle—they merely watched
Always seeing truth
But they never quite absorbed
Like a rock hitting the water
The inevitable fate was to fly and sink

The first of the ligures settled in the very reservoir of Satan himself
Even the very heart of the devil is marked
Though rebellion embarked  
The cold stone landed upon his naked bosom
He despaired not to the pericopal truth the gods had bestowed upon him
He merely despised it
But wished not to lose it
For such a stone to fall upon that dark corner—he felt pride for the gracious wound

In truth, there are twelve ligures of stone 
And four were dispersed, dropped into the universe
The last eight the great Eternal wears upon his breastplate 
And only He can re-move these ligures

-July 20, 2013-
-For Shadow Himilton's Any Subject Contest-
-Thanks for the inspiration-

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
I						am
I						was
I						saw an
I						 lay
I						pray	
I						sleep

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

Details | I do not know? |
We put the urn aboard ship.
Excubant vigil by starlight kept. 
Cradled in a zephyr grip, 
distant, the desolate catacomb crept.
Homeward, encumbered vessels slip
adorned in the dreams of those who slept.

Preston Graham
Submission for contest: Complete The Lines
Hosted by: nette onclaud
Line 5 - Sappho

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

Details | ABC |

Dead person does not harm 
Or love any one
Why people scare of them!
After death

Surgeon knows dead person 
Does not oppose
While dissects corpse

Difference between the dead
And slept is
One can speak
Another cannot.

All know this irony fact
Even cannot trust in that

Like in cinema role remains apart
People in life perform vast
With a fact along belief of act

Thus the life rolls on rolls on 
Until fate defaces task

So in time keep with tact of nature 
And forget to fear with dying act

Surgeon knows dead person
Does not oppose 
While he dissects corpse.  

Copyright © Deepak Chalise | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |
Confoundly forward marches the soldiers bravely twords the war
 On going is the beat of the drum that leads these men 
To where the single trumpet plays a rebeling score 
 A battle ground where battles implore gore, the grapheties of war 
The generals encharge more, once again obeastities twords the poor 
 This includes those enchored, the entangled, the ignored 
War, it's so upstrangled, oh and I disincluded those forced 
 So have I yet struck a displaced chord, should I this poem abort 

Caught between the memories, the struggle just to make it through
 An empty wide open, and the millions of motions which gracefully do
Fought where theres freedom, brought here just for you
 Those feelings make you an empty crew, fight it, don't get blue

Because now in this silience it's just me and you
 Nothing more left here that will ever be new
I walked ten miles tonight
 Attention diverted arms draw up tight
I surrenered the time 
 To get the answers right
The question forever there remains the same
 I am no longer there, your to blame
Spinning circles emotions bringing forth the cause
 I felt the whole world open putting that time on pause

The dawn begins at zero hour
The canyons flames burn at its blistering bowels
The range is now a burning ridge
My thoughts are now only a burning bridge
My eyes feel so empty without you in by my side
It hurts so much the whole crew got caught in the fight
With unswept memories I only stir though the night
I've wept, I've prayed, and then I cried
Searching for an answers of why you died

Copyright © Courtney Courtney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Eight hours of toiling in the sun
With pick and axe digging for rum
Captive to the sentence yet
Prisoner to none

Hard labour, and this sure ain’t fun
Sweating in the heat, shoveling the dun
Digging and digging this work never done
Callused hands and a back carrying tons

The sun is setting, yet escape seems far
After all the digging is the gravel and tar
I am dead, dead dead!
Dead tired and wish I was in bed

So fair warning I am leaving here soon
Leaving this torture, to sing another tune
Leaving, I am to fetch me some brew
Some Tim Horton’s coffee and maybe some stew


ummmm a coffee shop, lets see what trouble I can get into there!!!!! :)

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018

Details | Narrative |
My heart is beating once again!
Call Archimedes from his grave so we may celebrate!
Eureka! I found it again!
My heart’s pain has gone away!
My life’s darkness has lifted away!
Stark in the middle of the wilderness I have regained the way!
Oh! How beautiful it is to see and feel me back on my way!

Eureka! I found it again!
Call Archimedes from his grave so we may celebrate again!
Writing literature in my dreams,
While praying for success in my sleep!
Writing poems in my head while strolling ahead!
Painting masterpieces in my head while bathing at midday!
Seeing tomorrow today while it’s still too much work away!
Oh! How beautiful it is to see and feel me back on my way!

Copyright © Wiseton Prins | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
Never to see her again
I looked down
Wine of bloods holo

Flowing from my hands
Unto the devils abode
Whitest of Pyrenees days

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018

Details | Sonnet |
Where Tongues Cursed We Did Bind

We fought the devils in steady spells,
and rest between the hammering blows,
and with heart's sigh our spirits tells;
that black shadows fear now knows.

Where tongues cursed we did bind,
with sharp thorns driven in deep,
they countering back in kind;
in short moments we dared to sleep.

No dawn came that entire week,
just night darkness giving its aid,
our doubts we refused to speak;
else needed courage would fade.

Thus we ourselves did then deceive
our souls that doubted what to believe.

R.J. Lindley,
Oct. 15th 1979

Syllables Per Line: 	9 9 8 7 0 7 7 7 8 0 7 8 7 7 0 8 9
Total # Syllables: 	108
Total # Lines: 	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: 	 N/A
Total # Words: 	86

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |
Your Darkness Punishes But Does Not Win

Ravaging of Time- its sharp savage blades
Often minor cuts, blood spilled with no thought.
Hidden pains of lone, dark nights, midnight raids
From which no saving reprieve can be bought.
Clinging to that last old withering branch
With endurance built in bravest of souls.
Life holding out for its sad and last chance
Soon to embrace night, black as unburnt coals.

Death, thee hast come to do Time's last commands
With thy blades its servant, wicked with glee.
No power on earth, sends thee reprimands
As no power can drain Time's endless sea!

When innocent souls meet thy merciless blades
Mere mortals ponder, life's foolish escapades!

Robert J. Lindley, 2-06-2017

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 11 11
Total # Syllables: 142
Total # Words: 107

Note: Time and Death, twins that work to bring darkness, defeated only by the saving Light of a Doorway, when opened.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
Shall I Beg For Time Here To Be Longer

When tombstone at grave site shall be written
Praying it records, great good I have done
Nothing on love sought, heartfelt and smitten
Instead tell, Salvation given not won.

Whenever life upon earth's realm falters
May Light and Grace arriving, this soul save
Racing an angel but never caught her
My prize, Truth rewarded for being brave.

Shall I beg for time here to be longer?
Or in truest faith, my soul be much stronger?

Contest, What Doesn't Kill Us
Contest, Sponsor Laura Loo
75 Words, March 5th, 2017

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Details | I do not know? |
The green hills are drinking
the clouds,
keep pouring out
the scented breath.

In capsuled hour the wind was its own rival.
A slant on confessional suicide:
the charm obliterates the solitude.

A gray shower of thoughts outside the window,
I forget, I remember in coyness
my sparks are humming.

The plundered land
by advancing columns of hunger
tosses around the dead lips of tropical

The fear demands learning,
finding the uninvited death
in the manipulated existence.


Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2010

Details | Classicism |
Myths, legends, lores, mystify the velvet
Red milk of grief flows around my hut.
The chariot beckons me home, 
Its speed; light knows! 
I linger onto the Eagle velvet
Shall I walk in the desert? 
Bear this cold for long? 

This chariot; a patient rider, 
Awaits me on the banks of the Mississippi, 
I battle my gain for the velvet, 
The chariot; a good one
Eagle velvet; a sibyl
The sibyl, my Arwen.

My wet loin; a fine tunic,
I wander to wonder the velvet
Authority regained! Home, home, the chariot
Through the Eiffel tower; 
Down the banks of Thames,
Into the Nile. 

Shall I say it be a dream? 
Vision or trance? I bemoan
Yet, it let's me down! 
I wait gladly for its return...

Copyright © Babafemi Yinka Olubodun | Year Posted 2016

Details | ABC |
Behind the died man's grave 
I saw many reasons to live
And dance merrily to the shinning sun.
In the died man's grave
Many terrible and horrible
Voices echoed out their angry voices of 
Unfulfilled potentials.
There, wisdom weeps and laments for not working 
According to the ten principles of life
Knowledge flaps it wings and dance emotionally 
Destiny came roaming about naked 
They said the grave yard is the richest house
Now i know perfectly well because 
I saw potential came to me
In a sackcloth howling bitterly
Then i asked him why he weeps.
He looked up and his tears visited the ground 
he  told me that men had failed to use him
Because of their mind set and weakness
I looked into his palm and saw how smooth it was
How men had not touch it for thousand years 
"I ye men believe not in your selves" cried he
Then fear answered him happily
"I torment them all And they heed to my torment"
Then went he up rejoicing
as i walked farther i saw fate in the corner
Anger and battered like a harden criminal
Then said he to me, men are stubborn
I decid for them but they disposed my decision
I worked hard to channel them but money they all need
Music in my heart i bore to satisfy them 
But to no avail, so i gave up.
The next i hand them over to death humbly
In the died man"s grave 
There are many gift untouched 
Indeed it is the richest house ever
My heart aches and a drowsy cry deepen 
One hour past i still remained behind the grave 
NOw i have woken up to learn beyond 
That i know in a died man"s grave

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ghazal |
 Dobatey ko tinka shara 

Mai barbad hua es isqu Mai 
Teyrana tho aata nahi tha tinka 
Bhi ley duba unkey khayalo Mai 

a long breath 

With love all 
Jagdish bajantri

Copyright © jagdish bajantri | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
This self exists in grave fluidity – 
when finding nothing inside, ventures out
and looks beyond to seek validity.

Unfortunate, she finds herself without
the thing she needs to valuate a life;
when finding nothing inside, ventures out

to leave some beauty there among the strife – 
for only in creation she finds peace,
the thing she needs to valuate a life.

Objectified, the pain can find release
obscured within intense poetic phrase,
for only in creation she finds peace.

So tucked away within, it silent stays
and destined to remain so when it hides
obscured within intense poetic phrase,

and in this way, the future she decides.
This self exists in grave fluidity – 
and destined to remain so when it hides
and looks beyond to seek validity.

Copyright © Tracy Decker | Year Posted 2006

Details | Senryu |
Grave and Largo sat
Adagio strolled and waved
Allegro shot past

Copyright © JP Armstrong | Year Posted 2018