Grave Woman Poems

These Grave Woman poems are examples of Grave poems about Woman. These are the best examples of Grave Woman poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |
Looking at you, they feel lust;
lust for the curves they say you flaunt.
The silver lining visible through your deep neck.
The perfect waist they say,
you show in those tightly fitting kurtis.
Those slender legs they stare at,
during the numb hours;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Looking at you, they show greed;
greed for the thighs they say you flaunt.
The belly button showing through your crop top.
The toned hips they say,
you show in those cotton leggings.
Those naked backs they search for,
with their lustful glances;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Looking at you, they trickle saliva;
saliva on your pure spots they say you flaunt.
The strap of your bra peeking out through your shoulder.
Those luscious lips they say,
you call for with those lip balms on.
The dropping dupatta they hope for,
with those greedy glares;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Looking at you, they fall over;
over the corpse of the shattered soul they say you hide.
The life of the dead emotions oozing through your eyes.
Those clichéd tears they say,
you drip out for sympathy.
The lonely longings they wish for,
in those silent deserted lanes;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Copyright © Sourabh Acharya | Year Posted 2017




Details | Haiku |
1#
Brewed tea
Wife and myself
Nothing between us
2#
He was metamorphosed 
Into a frog
When his wife had left him
3#
I needed
A lonely woman
Thousand years back
4#
She shivered
In yellow sun
Struck by her coyness
5#
God travels
With three suitcases
One for me
6#
I kissed
Her frostiness 
And my lips turned icebergs
7#
The bed
Gets embarrassed
At our nakedness
8#
Her hands
Stopped me
To pick evenings
9#
We two rested
In a cave of Kundalini
Behind the waterfall
10#
The alien woman 
Travelled six moons
To deliver her baby in a burial ground 
11#
An eagle swoops
On a field –mouse
Tables of wedding
12#
The woman kissed me
I felt her hollow ribs
As if in a spring dream
13#
The woman’s hair
Struck by a gale
Made waterfalls
14#
My wife locked
Me one fine evening
In my neighbour’s hole
15#
The rats are away
When mice take in
My wife’s clammy face
16#
The summer rain
In exasperation
Took wings to raid the moon
17#
Lolo my wife
Her green sleek steps
Thundered an innocent fly
18#
In the dead of night
God made two wives
One for me one for my neighbour
19#
My neighbour’s wife
Delivered a child
When I was asleep
20#
The woman said goodbye
And I took a fish for dinner
I mistook it for my wife
21#
My wife is a canvas
Where I paint
My forebodings
22#
A painter’s apprentice
In sheer foolishness
daubed in red my wife’s rear-view
23#
A squirrel saw my wife
And in haste
Lost her guava 
24#
I was caught in neighbour’s bedroom
By my wife last summer
I lost my glasses
25#
A wolf entered the graveyard 
Unannounced
And annoyed my wife
26#
Sarah my wife
Lumbering
Dizzy commuters
27#
Sarah wed me
And in brief forgetfulness
Greeted my neighbour
28#
A tiger ate Sarah my wife
It happened by accident
The tiger knows
29#
Morning bell
Wake up call
I want to sleep
30#
Pola my pet fly
Fouled things up
She ate my wife’s breakfast
31#
My dog Pintu
Hydrophobia
I set him free on my wife’s posterior
32#
Eons ago a butterfly
Gave birth to my wife
Now, a caterpillar 
33#
A hard slap
Stammering 
Hurricane Sarah will win 
34#
You have gathered enough winters 
Woman sighs
Leave one for me
35#
The woman flapped her wings
To clouded mountaintops
Silky as white

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Can I catch you
Can you stay?
Forests at wood
There we play
A gentle hand 
That fixed the dress
Brushing tears back
Saving stress
I can not bare
The oaken wave
Only memories
Can I save
I miss your hair
And what it covered
More than a mind
God knows I loved her
The ghost I knew
She rests away
I can not catch you
You can not stay.

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013




Details | Dramatic monologue |
There she was across the room
With lips like tulips in full bloom
Her love was what I wanted to borrow.
Her face was smirked and at me she spat
‘I don’t fancy men who are fat!’
Never had I encountered a heart so hollow.

But I kept watch of her throughout the ball
Watched as she flaunted herself through the halls
I watched as she turned down man after man
Each of them looking so very distraught
By god what manners has this maiden been taught!
But little did she know of my plan.

A maiden as she should be taught a thing or two
About how she should act and what not to do.
But tis not my plan at all
A woman such as she should be kept home
Watching her speak to men is like watching a dog devour a bone.
This maiden here, is making me feel rather appalled.

She accepted their drinks few and plenty
When all of a sudden one became twenty.
She made my life as easy as could be.
She stumble out in a drunken stupor
After so many drinks, she was a trooper.
Oh, she made this so simple for me.

As a gentleman I went to help her per-say,
Loving that everything was going my way.
Little did this wretch know she’d be walking to her doom.
She didn't even realize we were walking through the cemetery,
Instead of to her house where she housed her small canary.
Ah, her lips like tulips in full bloom.

‘I don’t fancy men who are fat!’
My god who raised this intolerable brat?
That doesn't matter, this will all be over soon.
We stopped in front of the six foot hole
A quick shove and down she fell, that disgusting troll.
Even from up here I see Tulips in full bloom.

As I began to simply fill it in
What spread across my face was a ghastly and sinful grin.
I filled the hole to the top.
I proceeded to pack the dirt down
From foot to crown.
I looked around the graveyard and my eyes came to a stop.

Here I planted flowers of many colors
Where in the spring the bees hover.
And when I walk by I smell the lovely fumes
So when I visit there is something to see
And I can sit in the shade of a nearby tree.
Only I know the meaning of those tulips when they’re in full bloom.

Copyright © Katelyn Roussell | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

     Sun hindered sultry earth, wet mound of mossy growth, 
       Cast to my grave way too early, untold secrets held by oath.
     My cross bearing name, years untold, vines they wind, 
       Loved ones, lost souls crying, constrained, I’ve left behind. 
     Placed six feet under, to reside, by wronged eternal shame, 
       Respect shallowly given, bare tombstone, initialed name.
     Unkempt, desolate, outskirts, socially banished bed I lay,
       Once disclosed, a man’s untold secret, during night times fallen day.
     Provoking sudden panic, with “vulgar lies” by fortunes truth, 
       “Prove it” flame torches burned, sovereign citizens, absent ruth. 
     Those ideas came and went, a mistake, to share such knowledge, 
        A frightened small town life, unjust powers screamed abolish.
     Unleashed a fears throne devil, tied up “witch”, my smoke stack burned,
        Inherited genes my sisters gathered, a unions threat, conversed they learned.
      A gift of genuine beauty, I’ve stood behind these sorcerers lives,
        Through times suspicious husbands, to life’s ‘all knowing’ cautious wives.
      For my sisters they kept quiet, by sustained years, their families grew, 
        Long lived our families secret, a blood lined “witch”, for all she knew.
      Overgrown vines for years have passed, Salem nights as they have changed, 
        Life’s seasons, predicted secrets, no longer provoked by fears deranged.
      For these vines is all that’s held me, natures embrace casted shadow,
        Death speaks, my lingered voice, unspoken truth will not forego.
      Not ruled by judgements nature, for in me their roots have grown.
        Unseen, my weathered head stone, dressed in vines, I’m not alone,
      A child’s future, my leaves unraveled, jaded visions to them I give,
        My torture speaks, a hidden tombstone, the Salem witch in you, I live. 

Over grown with Vines- Poetry Contest
Dated 10-04-2016

Copyright © Chelcie Darling | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Born a legend, based on fact 
The story of the blind woman's well 
For she couldn't see the water's edge 
And in the watery grave, she fell 

When the moon shines full in the still of the night 
You can still hear her mournful cries 
She's begging for mercy from those in the light 
From this place where her body lies 

First blinded by darkness and then by revenge 
She swore that she'd make them pay 
She would take their children one by one 
And in her watery grave they'd stay 

For they knew that the woman went missing 
But there were none who seemed to care 
They had seen her bucket at the water's edge 
But they chose to leave her there 

She lured the children with promises of sweets 
That this woman in the well had found 
But when they would reach to claim their prize 
She would hold them til they drowned 

Twenty times two were the number of lives 
Before the curse was finally broken 
They filled in the well with tons of earth 
To end those words she'd spoken 

No more children would ever go missing 
To their watery grave below 
But in a well-shaped garden in the middle of town 
Forty-one roses still grow 

Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |
Taken


In this graveyard I sit and inhale the smoke.
As I sit, I read names, dates and quotes.
He was this and she was that.
They didn’t escape death…that is all I know.


Roses among the moss, the raindrops begin to fall down;
I stare into the dying sunlight and see images through clouds.
Then I see another mourner, praying to God;
We are both dressed in black, but she is no Goth.
She is just lost and has lost someone she loved;
I will not disturb her in her time of grief,
But I will glance at the grave stone when she is gone
And I am heading home, past all the head stones.
What is this sadness that surrounds us all in this place?
They have all been taken away.


Etchings and numbers like nineteen forty seven;
Names no longer remembered now they have all risen to Heaven.
Families reunited, never truly divided;
Always nearby if needed, inside a guiding light.
I kissed a girl and I kind of liked it;
But now her kisses are bitter to the thought,
Now she has been taken from my life.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
   I'M TIRED OF YOU ALWAYS BEING TIRED

You say my words are ugly because I drink too much
well listen little lady, if you've got a question i've got an answer
you may know how to feel but you don't how to touch
and you are the only thing that hurts almost as much as my cancer

you don't give a sh*t how many hours a day I stay in pain
you just want what you want and when you want it done
you treat me with nothing but contempt and disdain
and you are more heartless then anyone

I am now surrendering to whatever fate has to say
wherever providence leads me that's where i'm going to go
whether it tells me to run or hide away
i'll do what it tells me and go with the flow

wherever the river's current takes me i'll be prepared
wherever the ocean tide takes me i'll rides the waves
maybe you and I were never meant to be paired
because you don't act the way a true lover behaves

my blood runs and spills onto the floor
but that doesn't mean anything to someone like you
a woman unlike any i've ever met before
and quite frankly i'm tired of guessing what you're going to do

I have you on no leash yet you bark and you bite
I try to do things you'll appreciate
but your love of money over me just ain't right
and that's why i'm prepared to follow my fate

I can't get the help I need from you without begging on my knee
if I need an aspirin first I have to act like your slave 
it's as if your objective is to rid yourself of me
and I ain't going to allow no woman to drive me to my grave
             © 2012....PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
Born a legend, based on fact
The story of the blind woman's well
For she couldn't see the water's edge
And in the watery grave, she fell

When the moon shines full in the still of the night 
You can still hear her mournful cries
She's begging for mercy from those in the light
From this place where her body lies

First blinded by darkness and then by revenge
She swore that she'd make them pay
She would take their children one by one
And in her watery grave they'd stay

For they knew that the woman went missing
But there were none who seemed to care
They had seen her bucket at the water's edge
But they chose to leave her there

She lured the children with promises of sweets
That this woman in the well had found
But when they would reach to claim their prize
She would hold them til they drowned 

Twenty times two were the number of lives
Before the curse was finally broken
They filled in the well with tons of earth
To end those words she'd spoken 

No more children would ever go missing
To their watery grave below
But in a well-shaped garden in the middle of town
Forty-one roses still grow

Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ballad |
November 13th 2017 
Happy 83rd birthday to thy cremated mom

Harriet Harris fought tooth and nail
Mother succumbed 
to terminal illness without fail 
Ovarian/ Uterine Cancer to no avail
hosted by death feasted fancy 
at Oyster Bay metastasized inducing this male
the sol son to grapple as psyche didst ail.
*************************************
Major organs compromized grim reaper and
carried corpse into dead zone as a keeper brand
donned as one Canarsie flashy dame grand
ball room dancer didst skittered in right hand
side o' me noggin, the idea flit ta left land
of gray matter thru me mined task didst ex panned
foregoing bidding on e-bay, ruminate how trite
online shenanagins, never asking nor knowing spite 
most likely raged within yar being, 
which lack of filial duty haint right 
to be near where psyche flails quite
understandably, but no matter matthew scott

never did ask, how emotions most clear aflame
with anger writhing asper your terminal plight
vis a vis injustice to snatch desire with shroud of night
arising each morning to brilliant light

ye, thy lover of life becoming ashen gray 
with recurring incomplete bucket list that may
already, a dozen plus years ago - neigh
aye methinks, so much deprived of grandchildren ply
their oars thru the time stream, how whiz sigh
to partake whence thee drew final breath thy
avoid seeing thee stiffen with rigor mortis, why...

did unlucky dice throw of fate
rob and steal unattained goals ye strove with grate
fully before out bidden by dead souls, who hate
mortals to complete, thus truncate a lifelong mate
to papa, whom recouped severe loss, though his pate
undoubtedly flits with remembrance 
of thee one he did highly rate
despite occasions, where spats hood did vitiate

this son feels he did not booster morale at all

Copyright © MATTHEW harris | Year Posted 2017