Best Crematorium Poems

dead
bones rise
in ashes,
furnace spews clouds
smelling putrid smoke,
tongues consume bodies all,
aeolian whispers fan
Varanasi’s fierce appetite,
prayer flags wave like a wick of hope
while the ruddy Ganges silently...

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My friend once got into a crematorium.
As I promised him, on a certain gloomy date,
I brought him to the sea, with grief and sorry.
What for?...

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Riding off into the Ivory Palace sunset,
in a pitch-black limousine, no less

Hear the heavy metallic chariot roar,
leaving exacerbated fumes echo deplored

Aural palette, enamel pestilent pain...

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This is my last confession; there will be no more.

I am impercipient and slow from last night's sleeping pill,
wincing away from the harshness of day.
Kitchen...

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a lonely place.
It's nothing to do with that person
who asked how are you? this morning.
It's to do with staring through
fear-frosted windows
as snow sugar-sifts the street,
watching...

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I spied a valley low
Across the road from the cemetery
A Columbus monkey swinging by
The trees of the valley
Stood tall and forlorn
Observing the crematorium
Covered in light...

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‘She’s on again - the annual campin’ trip regatta,
and we’ve got ourselves together for our plans to Wonnangatta. 
The high country; you can’t beat it...

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One September morn, Barry is born, one day a little man that society will chastises every day, poisoned with dour memories of a life passing,...

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The sounds of the pipes and drums skirled still in my ears. I knew it was the kind of music that brought him to his...

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“Coffins. Who’d of thought it? Catalogues for coffins. And the speed and efficient nature of funerals in general. I mean I know we’ve been doing...

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Clipper Ships

My mother; she wasn’t there any more
Burned away in chemo radiology
Therapy for the incurable
As she lingered for a year
Lobotomized by cancer

But in her dreams...

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last journey---
                       ...

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a summer morning

at the crematorium-

tears dry on the breeze...

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As the wind blew over the smoking embers,
The smells moved into homes-
Houses that stood by the ancient crematorium.
It's always crowded, so many people die these...

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Let's cast these words at a funeral like shards in clay pots
like hard sounds n bright noise of memories of this lot 

of feelings real...

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