Best Macabre Poems
The First Texian Macabre Arena Ballad (The extended free-fallen edition)
In another life, is where I first saw your face!
One summer afternoon, lying wounded next to the dead
Unopened gun powder, mass destruction, a land of disgrace
A blood thirst battlefield is where I first saw your face
The sound of war, hidden behind bleeding hands
Crawlers, render their lives giving grace
Jaws of steel, broken, embracing, warm feelings
Summer rain, lungs filled with blood, one last post
Glorious by numbers, screaming blades
Gemstone in touch with the Holy Ghost
Soldiers come in a little close
Crawling, missing limbs,
Twisted nightmare with no ending
Macabre reminder, retracing the aroma of eternal life
Secrets buried like a treasure under walls of sudden death
Revolutionary tears found on a rusted Bowie knife
Lanterns, crackling against the dying wind
Dirt piles of crushed windpipes -- sudden death
Rummage like garbage, the dead Texian
A Falling Alamo Star, taking one last twinkle upon the sky
Forgotten Patriots, I can't remember the names
Written on walls, I can't remember the names
A folktale arena is where I first saw your face
Fairness of stuttered surrender slicing through iron brace
Crawling, with the hunger to live, a clean finish with grace
Exposing, scars needing mother's hands, mothers face
Across infested meadows, the aroma of burning skin
Distant, before Texas and her annexation,
Gruesome, before I lived, Texas and her mortal sin
I pledge, my love, the honor, a legion, I'm a full blown Texian
To Every Forgotten Texian Patriot----- We Win!
By: PD
silky, shapely, shameless seductress, swaying
tantalizing, torrid, entangled twining
languid, luxe, libidinous, luscious luncheon ~
Black widow spider
May 29, 2019
Hey mommy I am here to play
Daddy and brother are on the way
To the underworld where I sent them
By gutting tummies and dissecting
Innards go to outwards on the floor
Faces you can’t recognize anymore
Low and behold they still breathe
So I drowned them in the kitchen sink
Mommy come here, don’t run mommy
Fine I will chase you if you wish
But now when I get you — Cheshire grin
I’m going to take your life to the grave
Your going to wish you had stayed
Sparks fly on concrete from my blade
Mommy — I call through the halls
Mommy — my newest leather doll
Mommy! I call through the halls
Mommy, my newest leather doll
Eyes once vibrant and full of life
Frozen in time within glass like ice
Taxidermist sand fills your rinds
Don’t struggle scream or fight
Or you will feel a slice from my knife
Mommy your lips quiver and shiver
Bound to the cold ossuary of mischief
Where I been killing kids that went ‘missing’
You raised the perfect little girl all along
Perfect at whistling a thanatopsis song
Memento Mori-bund and invictus
For I am the necromantic enchantment
Tragedy fused elegy viral malediction
Feel the sweet steel mommy, not fiction
First cut was to invoke submission
Writhe and twist against her sentence
Stand still mommy here comes number two
Mama's little chef, stirring a stew of soullessness
the final cut, a symphony of silences, as carmine trickles
a crimson recipe, where every piece is digested
and in the cannibalistic dance, I devour your essence
Glazed icons of madness, Mommy my macabre doll
stitched and serried in the butcher's gallery of my mind
where souls are naugahyde-wrapped, my taxidermied trophies
of terror, a cabinet of horrors, forever chilled in time
In mother's dark hymn, I'm the soprano of sin
warbling sweet nothings of blood and bone
as Daddy and brother join the hellish song
their voices silenced by my tender touch
mashed and drowned, the reapers brush
Blinking away the last vestiges of slumber,
the cub takes a few tentative steps,
her paws sinking into the soft,
loamy soil.
With each cautious movement,
she pauses,
her small nose twitching,
as she samples the myriad of scents,
that permeate the forest.
The world beyond the den,
is a wondrous tapestry of sights,
sounds, and sensations,
and the cub's dark eyes shine with a curious, innocent wonder.
Emboldened by the familiar surroundings,
the cub ventures a bit farther,
her gaze fixed on a butterfly that dances,
just out of reach.
She crouches low,
her hindquarters wiggling in anticipation,
before springing forward in a clumsy leap,
her paws kicking up a flurry of debris.
The butterfly evades her grasp,
but the cub's joyful grunts echo,
through the tranquil forest,
a scene to her unbridled enthusiasm.
The orb calls to me, beckons breast beat,
blood in veins permeates, face red with heat,
as I asphyxiate, am dominated, reach climax.
Each time lustful, more powerful, sensual.
I crave this fix, my only reason to exist,
addicted to what only it can give, aahhhh.
Run my hands across thy frame, caress bits,
bite lip, if it wants blood, blood darling dear gets.
Prowl the street cloaked temptress,
lady in the tattered azure dress,
lioness disguised broke innocent.
Stranger approaches flashes bill,
curl thy onyx lipstick, teeth glint,
looks like mama found her kill.
Lustfully signal follow, his pants out fill,
puppy panting as we arrive at house on hill.
Velvet lips embrace his, sinker hook and reel,
downstairs feet flutter, horn dog on my heels.
Stair steps slow when he sees my dark caster,
honey’s veins slither the man spins, foot patter.
Tentacles wrap, bind, whiplash backwards,
shrieks elevate, laced crackle of my laughter.
Appendages worm in orally, lurch, teeth shatter,
man’s skin sinks, bled, swiftly made gray plaster.
Husk flung, tentacles grant thy trophy, fly thigh,
moaning peels into the pale moonlit nigh sky.
Heaving, baby craves more, yes, I too my lovely,
scarlet I will bring you every night, to daylight,
just vow you will pleasure me, my crimson king.
Sailing the seas of life, we find ourselves adrift, carried away with no compass or map to guide our way.
Our bodies, two vessels destined for collision on the jagged cliffs of the fray, ensnared by death’s velvet chains bound our amatory embrace.
Shipwreck that leaves us both in the auroral abyss, lachrymose tide drops two ebb us away, but we chose not to fade.
I’ll hold you sapphire sanctuary of solace,
living or stuffed euphrosyne, my ensnared.
Our kiss connects, waves dissolve, waxen effigy
surrendering its form, boundaries blurring ravenous hunger for kisses pulled us through the thunderstorm.
Beloved, promise me, you won’t let go.
Amongst the treetops a falcon finds its prey
Swooping down talons open to grasps it
Only to let it drop so it’s bones will shatter
Questions have arisen in the coming days
Am I in the talons or am I the falcon hunting
A gunshot is heard with a burst of feathers
I am the bullet ceasing the existence of fables
My words are the rifle in which they will fall
Stair carefully dear into the unknown abyssal void.
Pier was once past and now rotted and rictus, petrified.
Hue manatee threaded ten den and garnet.
Ruby teardrops and crimson Damascus drips droplets,
like a leak key faucet in the dead of night.
Scarlet necklace four by one who did sow much,
kismet of my bloodlust and neck crow man sea.
Fools are all burning with me now, how kris pea.
Cerberus let me pass for free or dye dog,
he growls but I remain steadfast and waltz threw.
Welcome to my finally fore Hades is dead,
only pan door ah re mains.
I detest cowards who cower at night's darkness,
afraid of shadows and their own demons.
Fear is a thief that steals courage
and leaves only cowardice in its wake.
Be a warrior, not a weakling.
Face your fears,
and let the darkness fuel your lights fire.
Weakness is not an option.
Fred was taking a break after working hard for weeks
to find a cure for awkwardness for guys like him--geeks.
He dreamed of being suave. Oh, how he wanted to dance!
But work and having two left feet denied him the chance.
The door flew open then. In came a tall, robust girl.
She clambered over, yanked him up, and gave him a whirl.
She said, “My name’s Fran Frankenklutz. I’ll teach you some moves.
I’ll show you how a gal like me gets with the beat and grooves.”
They did the Monster Mash so well with their four left feet.
They are a couple now—the happiest you'll ever meet!
posted October 9, 2016
entered in Frank Herrera's Zany Poetry Contest November 27, 2016
Date: May 25, 2019
Contest Title: Pick a Title, Vol 5--A Macabre Dance
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
On Valentine's Day,
Cupid's arrow drips with blood.
What a macabre love
Take my senses away
Make me crazy,
Stir some memories
Make a story;
Oh, Love me to death,
Give me a life then kill me.
Show me the way
Then lead me astray,
Enrich me with love
Then waylay me;
Be my friend, betray me,
Be my God, bedevil me.
Let's congregate in a tavern
Worship in this safe haven,
Follow no faith
Pander to no priest;
Let's hobnob with the angels,
Befriend the demons on the sly.
Drag my soul through the desert
Then carouse there in an oasis,
Set me ablaze with your passion
Then douse it with your sweat;
Let's sleep on a bed of cactuses
And thumb our noses at the heavens.
Ha, let's grow up
And just kid around,
Lie down in a grave
And wake up in a cradle;
Let's usurp the world from Atlas
And rattle the hell out of its core!
~A Strand (1047) contest
~Sponsor: Brian Strand
Bite the bullet brave voyagers of war's wailing screams and cries
which terrify not few fighters that tremble not at new nightmares dreamt in somber tents.
The circus invokes its skull clients to its danse macabre.
Behold the skull's countenance contemplating thy face,
seeking to crown thee some forlorn day.
I will dance upon the fields of thy grave,
I will smile at your progeny,and take to wife thine daughter;
And together we shall partake in life's debauchery.
Anger tends to burn through one's soul.
Smoldering hatred causes macabre looking eyes.
Then the sane mind fades as sanity tries,
but the battle within fails to keep peace.
You deceive yourself consuming your own heart while,
quenching your thirst with your own blood.
You rant and break, which should cause you to scream,
but you call out not for your heart has been consumed.
Please hear me old friend and stop the hate.
May there be peace with you until your journey ends.
Edward J. Ebbs - Fall 2008
Danse Macabre
Twin Old Glorys jitterbug above the hoods as silent heralds; the motorcade
congas three-abreast along the Stemmons Freeway sleek in shiny chrome.
Long honks and short beeps unite in harmonious homage
to the office that cradles a nation in her oval skirts.
Dallas, late November blue sky framing puffy clouds, is a cabaret
bobbing in frenetic throb to the glam life-beat of its honored cortege.
As they swing onto Main, the image bounces off the dark glasses of the austere
men that line the parade route like lampposts, and beams to an adoring world.
With a blast and a life-tearing flash, a keen emerges from the
back of the shiny limousine that jumps through the light
implanting itself into the intimate memories of a generation.
The suits whirl about in impotent rage as the surge of flesh
undulates forward in grief, back in terror and commences a final march
while a distant freight train avers its dolor with a mournful whisper.
As night falls on a blood-soaked plaza the wind whips up and
the leafy trees on the grassy knoll sway a spectral dance.
By Jay Herman
For Nette Onclaud's Let's Dance contest