Best Tomb Poems
Take me to the place where the aromatic fragrance
threatens to envelop our obelisks glorifying death;
to the place where the seraphim of old long to steal your breath
only to resurrect you again,
because they adore your shell-shocked epiphany.
The twinkle of wisteria eyes that say star-struck goodbyes to winters long overdue.
Take me to some place new, yet still lingers with the scent of timeless truths.
Can you whisper epigrams in my ears yet still retain your sunflower youth?
And can such a place even exist ...
where I am me and you are you.
Is this dream of ours only a selfish wish?
Where our heart's desires
will never transpire,
but only take cues from Lazarus,
coming into our own like lilac lust.
I am told there is a beautiful gate
that leads to this tomb of ancient bloom.
Will you let me nourish this timid trust
and receive this skeleton key that dreams of wearing skin -
and if not now, of this would-be genesis ... when?
Please don't tease with someday soon,
but let these tumblers unhinge like zealous zephyr.
I know it will be all that you asked.
I know it will be, for my soul spoke so earnestly: give it a chance.
So won't you carve upon this granite heart
that longs for the easy rain of your embrace.
Etch upon these alabaster walls with love's italic hand,
the seven lettered splendor known unabashedly as FREEDOM.
Let it be the only thing
the angels care to dream,
when imagining eternity.
Let none atone
the only thing
set in stone.
Written February 15th, 2016.
Entered in the contest A Tomb of Ancient Bloom hosted by Justin Bordner.
Chosen Poem of the Day on February 17th, 2016
Placed First
For a moment when I open my door,
a sweet meow will greet me,
but, it is just a wish . . .
Oh, I want to live in that one moment,
I want to lift up kitty,
but my home is tomb silent.
Womb Tomb
The baby loved the heart music of her mother to be!
She heard the water running
all over Mommy’s body and
breast,
As she listened so ever so intently!
“One day I will see Mother’s lovely, happy face.
It is getting way too small in
here!”
She heard the sound of soft,
rhythmic purrs.
In her tiny dreams,she wished
those sounds might one day
would be hers!
Baby Migdalia, just dreamt
thoughts of hope and joy.
A Daddy near of only such
dreams, she knew of no such
things as murder or fear.
Then, Mommy and Daddy,
In voices got very angy!
Daddy shouted at Mommy
“We have no money to raise
a child!
Woman have you gone mad?”
I became frightened and so utterly sad!
Can any of you, anyone, help me?
Have the courage to please
Tell them, to let me be born?
I am God’s present to them.
Not a beast of burden.
But myself and others, we need all of you
to speak for us.
For we are the precious future.
We are your sons and lovely daughters,
Yet to be!
Twenty-three thousand of us a day, in the USA meet this fate.
Lives ended and sent back to God’sHoly Gate.
Help us, won’t you please?
With love and deepest hope.
Baby Migdalia and all the unborn!
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier - Canada
We all know you now
You have fallen at our feet
You have guarded them all with life and limb
Noble and brave
Only to fall at a cowards last call
You have stirred the souls of the unknown heroes
Their appall shall seek the just dues of our defamers and saboteurs
Young lads who now welcome you in the hereafter
Shall haunt our enemies from near or afar
The drum rolls sound, as the rifles salute
The Unknown Soldier
You are unknown no more
Notes: In memory of Nathan Cirillo and Patrice Vincent both killed in cold blood on the week of Oct 26, 2014 by cowards in the name of Islam. Nathin Cirillo was standing guard at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Also in memory to the 1000’s of unknown soldiers, young men, who fought so that we may be free.
You come in search of love back to the tomb
Beneath the Weeping Willow tree it lies
The place where last you lips brought me to bloom
Where flame of passion danced in brilliant eyes
This very spot is where you buried love
For great was need to soar to other climes
and so you took to wing and flew above
Entombed was I, enshrouded in your rhymes
My broken heart would not be laid to rest
In sepulcher serene, it faintly beat
Believing that someday you’d end the quest
And make your way back here my heart to greet
By Ancient Tomb of Bloom I hear your sigh
Remorse for broken vows you now confess
You turn your face with pain to silent sky
And then you hear the rustle of my dress
Out from behind the Weeping Willow tree
Where I have waited, longing for this day
I stand before you, resurrected- free
With trembling heart, you hear me softly say:
“You’ve come back to this sacred burial ground
Where our love breathed its last to let you fly
And now you see me here; to you I’m bound
...Make love to me, for true love cannot die."
You ravish me, on Tomb of Ancient Bloom
The fragrance of my rose perfumes the air
You press me close and place in hand a plume
“Immortalize with words our love in prayer.”
For Justin Bordner's Tomb of Ancient Bloom Contest
February 20, 2016
You look at me and see a northeast highway after winter
Cracked, worn, roughened by conditions not meant to be endured.
I was once the most beautiful cobblestone pathway through a garden of ripe, unpicked fruit.
I was the apple whose sweet center no man could resist tasting
But you see affliction where held addiction.
You think my mind feeble, that thoughts slip through my brain
Like water through a child's fingers in a sudsy, post-playtime bath.
But I was once the network that ran every station in the steel-girded high rise
And ran the split level in the suburbs. I never needed to reboot.
A victim of time, still in her prime.
I look in the mirror and don't understand who that old woman is who gapes back.
I have long blonde tresses and eyes that rival Liz Taylor on her best day.
This, this is a shadow -- a black and white picture version of a colorful scene.
Inside I am 25, still as vibrant as the peacock whose feathers once graced my favorite hat.
I'm a tomb . . . of an ancient bloom.
February 14,2016.
It was never exactly pinpointed
for only the African Crowned Eagles knew of the twisting paths
to its misplaced place.
In that crystalline chamber, upon that gold dusted floor
were found much thumbed volumes of all Nietzsche’s
works,
a penguin in a glass bell,
a twig cut from the tree of Life one million years from now'
A windblown leaf but only the wind that blew it.
a silver cuspidor, a ancient helmet made of Pittsburgh steel,
a Neolithic moonshine still,
a copy of the illustrated Karma Sutra,
several debunked words of wisdom from Aristotle,
an Olmec Letter Opener.
and a stuffed tufted rat.
The find has been carefully transported to the Smithsonian
where neuroscientists are trying
to solder together all these missing links.
The NYT has declared these odd finds
to be ‘Russian disinformation,’
but ‘Bokonon’ the mythical poet-sage of the Republic
of Never-Never Land
has blessed each artifact and declared them
to be far too strange not to be absolutely true.
Jesus is not in the tomb, my LORD and Redeemer lives!
He is in the heart of all those who in Him believes!
He has promised to come into us and remain
Forever dwelling in us through every joy and pain.
To all those who have opened the door of their hearts
The promised Holy Spirit, the Counselor, He imparts.
It's the will of the Father that in Christ Jesus we trust
Believe in His Word, meditate on it, we must.
Jesus is not in the tomb, His kingdom is within us,
Eternal life is knowing Him, He makes us righteous.
God saved us through Him because of grace and mercy
Christ saved us completely and prays for you and me.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~03.23.16
"Because Jesus lives forever, He is able to save completely those who come to God through Him because He ever lives to intercede for them."
Hebrews 7:24-25
Time is serenading a soulless march
September sings mournful, parched tomb
Lies untouched in the bleeding hearts crying out
For redemption and hearing a requiem no doubt
Iniquity without solace, truth waved bye
Long ago and we suffer and die
As vapid pleonasms offer no comfort
To troubled minds and souls, now come forth
Receive the blessings found in this tomb
Reciprocity of love and truth now looms
Across the sky when you enter here and help
The impecunious muster, give them a hand
Love your brother young man, for this tomb
In its glory and blazing irascible light dooms
Evil's plans of vile treachery, blindsides the
Buried bile of biblical mockery so confided and...
Entombed eternal
"Become who you were born to be, not who you've allowed yourself to become."
As the spring sun rises
Revealing wispy clouds
Fog that's settled in hollows
Roosters crow, doves' coo proud
With Easter approaching
Thoughts of thousands years
Ago bubble up in
Memory, some tears flow
A triumphant entry
Upon a donkey new
He had never ridden one
The donkey unridden too
Was it a day like this
Apricot sun in the east
Or were there gray clouds
Did the sheep softly bleat?
The throngs worshipped with
Hosannas, in the name
Of the Lord, but did not
Know he'd be blamed
Blasphemy, blasphemy
Those accusers cried
They could not see
The Son or even tried
They could not see ahead
The future hidden deep
They did not know the cross
Awaited nor of its defeat
But only a short brush with death
Placed in a borrow tomb
On that Sunday long ago
He arose, He can't be exhumed
The Friar's Heel beside the way
tilting toward the stones arrayed
at Stonehenge where the Devil played
and tossed the monolith that day.
Zareba formed of massive stones,
encircled 'round the Devil's throne;
but on the meadow Heaven owned
transparent light of Angels shone.
Back to the cave, the gate to Hell
they chased the Devil - in he fell;
the burning hovel where he dwells,
and all the bells of Heaven knelled.
How admirable the war on high;
now from the light in solstice sky
and Angel's love he could not hide,
nor faith and hope could not deny.
The Gift, a bounty all can share
was left for us forever there;
to all mankind - to all who care
to lift their hearts in peaceful prayer.
Inspired by Milton's Paradise Lost, 11,000 lines of Blank Verse in iambic pentameter - this, however, is monorhyme in iambic tetrameter
LOVE'S LOST IN THE LAND OF NOT
John (Winged Warrior)- we've not forgot
Your heartfelt comments and lovely,
Soul...
A beacon of light- the way you'd Roll
He'd spread his wings open wide
IN THE GALLOWS WHERE WE RESIDE
Across the oceans and over the,
Seas..
His writings ride amongst the breezes
He came to me in my dream last night
To wish us well with love and light
AS WE JOURNEY FROM OUR MAIDEN.
WOMB...
To keep our writes like hearts abloom
From the womb- till his depart
He left behind, from within his heart
All his poetry for us to keep,
When...
THE CURTAIN FALLS WITHIN OUR SLEEP
*In dedication to John (Winged Warrior)
The TITLE and the HIGHLIGHTED LINES are taken from John's very first poem written here in PoetrySoup- titled "Love's Lost"
John had amazingly but not surprisingly won the POTW honors with this brilliant poem. I am sure I speak from most of us who knew you, John. When I say R.I.P. you genuine soul. For those of you who are new to PS I urge you to read some of John's stunning poetry.
LOVE'S LOST
We awaken from within a tomb
As we journey from our maiden womb
Specks of dust within a storm
Like a shattered symphony in it's mourn
Love's lost in the land of not
Ancient ruins that time forgot
As the serpent lays the road ahead
We count love's layers that are shed
In the gallows where we reside
Love and fear live side by side
We shake hands with destiny's vine
Where past and present intertwine
The curtain falls within our sleep
As love's lost approach the deep
Can hope survive in the dragons den
For these are tales of sword and pen
*(Written by Winged Warrior)
January 24th, 2016
Within the womb the miracle lay
Waiting for the appropriate day
To, at chance, enjoy the start,
A life in which to grow in heart
From the day that child was here
Learned to love and pray, no fear
Continued growth in solemn ways
Praying for eternal days
Unto the tomb, the body lay
Soul lives on, to Him we pray
The flesh to ashes as declared
The body’s gone but soul was spared
Valley of the kings
Romantic ideas
Word spread rapidly
Undiscovered tomb of a pharoah
World renown archeological teams
headed for Egypt
Amateurs, we stood in line for almost twenty-hours
before it was our
turn to take a look inside.
From the sunlight to the darkness, at first you go blind.
You hopefully catch yourself
As you find yourself falling over all of the stuff the servants
Felt the Pharoah would need in the afterlife
Toys, tools, everyday items, seeds, toiletries, decorative items
Vast amounts of lapis, and gold are glimpsed at corners where
generators are lighting lamps.
The air is stale, like a death march.
There is little light; but lots of angry shadows.
I lost my footing twice, tripping over an embossed box.
There were three sarcophagus,
In this unusual tomb.
A family disaster perhaps?
I could barely see in here.
I went back out,
and gulp-breathed
Gorgeous Egyptian air,
relieved I had not been grabbed
by a mummy.
“I feel my life so empty. It is preferable to fill a tomb to being doomed to live out a life that is empty” ~ By Poet.
Darkness encompasses my space.
My future is seen so bleak where feral beasts hide.
Not even a glow worm to throw light.
I see no chance of deliverance.
Through the mazy depths of gloom, I wade,
Struck with the pestilence of rejection and hate.
Hopes are now like shredded threads,
Frayed away from a rope.
I seek shade under a leafless tree.
I hold on to a crutch as a prop.
I curl up like a helpless embryo,
Floating and whirling in lucid agony.
Shutters of Distress is about to close in
Before that, I should invite death.
Lying in death is preferable to living with death.
I must cross this cursed field.
My tomb I see under a humble stone.
I shall rest there, no more haunted by the fret of life.
It could be just a mound of earth,
My lone resting place in a deserted corner
Where no one will ever visit this nondescript.
Where no one comes with a bouquet of blooms,
Where dandelions may sprout from cracks,
To honor this mongrel of a man.
* * * * * *
In the absence of pallbearers and a hearse
I totter carrying my orphaned corpse,
And walk the deserted road,
Inching my way to my grave.