Best Crypt Poems

Sweet Rosalia was here with me
but for a year and a day
when we strolled the cliff beside the sea
to see the oceans spray

Sweet bairn of...

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Rivulets of crimson blood
Ooze tantalisingly from the gaping wound on her neck
He drinks hungrily, savouring every salty drop
Dracula wraps his black cape around his shoulders
Fleeing...

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The bats in the steeple were feeding on people
By sucking the blood splattered wood
That came from the coffin a vampire dropped off in
When he’d drunk...

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Through shoveled loam I glimpse pale light
   Hands dare intrude into my burial crypt
Exposing the devastation of my decay
   Dignity of...

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In the heart of the blackest abyss, down, 
Down, in fathoms deep crypt, where light
Does not penetrate, and the structured protective hauls,
Of men, are crushed...

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Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do...

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Once upon a midnight, ghostly,
Partied many, dead ones mostly.
Feasting in the graveyard, sprightly,
White eyed werewolves gorged, engrossedly.

In the bone yard, drab and squalid,
Apparitions (staring stolid
Neath...

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In the night's chilling air a phantom figure, drags itself from
The watery edge of the river bank, emerging, rising upward
From beneath the moonlight's illumination, she...

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Confession Seeks Forgiveness – I Do Not


I will not confess, nor beg forgiveness,
for the sins of others, unrepentant,
nor succumb to “Inquisition’s” game,
accept their scars in...

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There from my window
In my mind I can see
Three crosses lined up
On the hill -----Calvary

In the middle the tall one
One on each side
Representing the place
Where...

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There you are 
you’re sitting down 
feet planted firmly on the ground
staring at a blank screen 
wrists held just so, 
your anxiously poised
ready to go...

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I will not have a carved tombstone;
the wind will carry me.
I've stayed in one place long enough;
one place, one form, one old tome.

I will not...

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    I am dead and lifeless,
    Cold and of the departed;
Two hundred years of wandering the world,
  ...

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Act III, final scene, psychodrama script-
the world is ushered off into history's crypt.
All the super heroes lie slaughtered on the floor
while apocalyptic addicts are screaming...

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When love lies in a crypt unnamed
And it's fire lives on lips untamed
And the wild fury wakes from it's sleep
to find the who or what...

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