Best Desecration Poems
“Here lieth baby Rachel
Born 10th Sept 1894 Died 30th Oct 1896”
Marble stone that lays above the head,
white chippings that blanket the body,
flowerless vase that sits naked
crying out for a fragrant moment
if only to perfume its stagnancy.
I see an odorous pool being replenished,
rain drops aiding hope and life,
a renewal to the neoclassical container
that one day must have been complemented
with loving hands of grief.
I find no track to this lonely corner,
forgotten in this living place of death!
No visitor to gaze upon its epitaph
no one to care “Whom here lieth”
Beneath this broken monument.
“Velvet skin that the cruel age turns to husks,
naked bones left to mature the grass above,
weeping willow guardian of shade and light,
Who! Knows what nourishment
its searching tentacles beget.”
“Corpus soul aimlessly floating in limbo,
looking at me here this very minute?
Feeling my sensitivity as I stand here, alone,
Is there no escape for anyone?
‘Unless life is indeed the enemy’”
Warped in thought I stare at her monument,
built by caring minds and dexterous hands,
tradesmen whom with spade and chisel
penetrated sculptured within nature
just to honour a child’s brief life on earth.
I walk away along the newly beaten track,
grass and nettle bow before my impending stride,
my mind is wrenched with reverence,
I climb aboard my mechanized shovel
“I wonder why! Why should it bother me so!”
© Harry J Horsman 1992
It was thinking
you could erase me,
that made you fall
into your first mistake
I am a mother of poems
I am the sister to word,
the daughter of a great
I am an untold story
without a name
all calls absorb silence,
but a slip of thought
will redeem all
you think me simple
something to toy with,
when other distractions
pale into insignificance
a sleeping dragon
rests in the cave
of my heart, wisps
of smoke consume me
like a rain of fire
my words will spill,
to burn your eyes
and all they mirror
"Here Lies-----
Rotting to the thrill of doom
Seized by Cold Death
And Buried face-down."
-Inscription on Tombstone-
"Decaying to the drips of chilled nature
And discontented by the state of my casket-
For it had so suddenly begun to decompose-
and by such nature my pathos be exposed-
That scraping sound seized my attention
And for once I deemed my hearing amplified
To the vile exploits of cemetery maggots-
For these fervid beasts are as fateful as Death.
Then I thought: "Here they come alas!
To waste to putrefaction my soulless mass
By their lethal kisses and passive seductions-
Slimy monsters who yet perturb nature's ruling.
Then I perceived violent falls,
Vibrations from quakes aloft
That for certainty's cursed sake
I hushed to but discern if
The unruly devil had come at last."
(unfinished)
The present day evils we acknowledge
Are the consequences of our sacrilege
Committed by us, humans of all age
We owe it to greed, avarice and pillage.
No restraint on pinching the resources
Results in rapid depletion of reserves
In our appetite for utilization of assets
Show contempt to nature’s belongings.
If we do not cultivate a healthy attitude
Mother Nature may express her anger
In many ways with unknown magnitude
By abandoning the customary solicitude.
Thus it is high time to rise and wakeup
And set right, in earnest all her make-up
Let us not fail the mother in her keep-up
And with a firm resolve, let us stand up.
Let us not fail to realize her deep sadness
By doing-away with our total selfishness
To save ourselves as well as our progeny
Let us not become our own worst enemy.
Living in a time when time stands still,
society is mentally ill for the dollar bill.
This pension state of mind; contract extension
state of mind,
so afraid of being left behind,
so afraid of being left behind.
Social security; unprecedented
insecurities.
Slow, Jesus, come before me today,
I hope you’re on your way.
Slow Jesus, come before me today,
please come show me the way.
Fight for a cause misunderstood;
try and spend a cold night in the hood.
It’s a real sad story, a real-life
unhappy ending.
Mothers and fathers have so much to say,
mothers and fathers need so much today.
Food stamps and welfare checks, corporate laundry and
cost-cutting specs.
Slow, Jesus, come before me today,
I hope you’re on your way.
Slow Jesus, come before me today,
please come show me the way.
Looking for the sixth dimension
you soon find that hate is overstated; take a look around
you soon find that hate is over rated.
Perform soul-search and you’ll see you’ve made it;
high above a world so jaded, high above a
love loss faded.
A feeling that cannot be imitated, when you take your hate and
desecrate it.
Slow, Jesus, let’s talk more tomorrow,
I’ve found the love you asked to borrow.
Slow Jesus, let’s talk more tomorrow,
no longer will the world breed sorrow.
Been around the world and still can't see why;
finding answers for problems we create.
Hello,
we gloat.
We criticize and satirize;
see they're eyes?
Finding answers for problems we create.
Spread the ideas we were brought up to believe.
Spread our ideas but no one cares to listen;
maybe force was a bad decision.
perhaps we are effete snobs
though we fete our snobbery honestly
we lie and cheat our way to A's and B's
leave for fools those 'gentleman's C's'