Best Undead Poems
Deep in my heart
Above all emotions
Since the day we part
There's an undead passion
I still want to be with you
To be like before we're through
My heart, here kept on waiting
Till the dreams all come true
My heart screams in pain
Hoping that you would come by
I love you since the day you came
It hurts me when you said goodbye
I desire you, my love
I want you close to me
Let us fly to the sky above
Let us swim across the sea
I can't believe you are not meant for me
Although it seems love set me free
To embrace the one i love sincerely
To love the one i care truly
Can't you come back to me?
Can't you give love another chance?
And give me a thousand satisfactories
And let my heart joyfully dance...
The street lights switch on & so does my head,
From my mind flows prose, compose, no time for bed.
Who knows if those thoughts are chose to come again,
No time to doze, put on some clothes & grab yourself a pen.
The dawn breaks & so does my stride,
Thoughts turn to dust in my mind,
Another artistic vampire, the creative undead,
Time to return to my coffin, my bed.
Here lies the great day sleeper,
Known to few, respected by none, most thought him daft,
His heart burnt bright with the love of his craft,
Fueled by the fires of passion & drive,
Doused with a lack of any real substance.
R.I.P.
Redemption In Poetry.
Halloween , The Undead Rise
How did darkness sneak into this room
echoes sounding of agonizing doom
Shrill sounds like chaotic dancing feet
images of stabbed and rotting meat
A dark mist hangs in this musty air
faint cries giving any soul a scare
Thumpings upon the foot of the bed
glimpses of many bloody, mutilated dead
Door opening to view another world
objects across the room savagely hurled
Ghostly apparition floating in the scene
claws so long with face so hideously mean
Wicked laugh coming from under the bed
mangled hand sliding forth , the undead
Smell of death's stinking odor so foul
fear cries to just flee but mind asks how!
Robert J. Lindley
Note: Month of the Undead.
Written for my daughter......
The UnDead
bloodthirsty suckers,
vampires on the prowl for prey -
a blast of sunshine
I have a heart not pumping not feeling
It hangs on my chest serving no purpose
I want it to hurt but it got nothing
Dried all up of life's forgotten repose.
I am soaked in decades unprocessed truth
Forever trapped in perfect preserved corpse
Without preview of underlying roots
Of how to this kind of creature I've morphed.
I'm undead but I learn to live with it
There is no part in me for emotions
No fatal focus attached to be hit
For cold body to be back in notion.
Eternity will be my company
One hell joke that will never be funny.
She asks "May I dance with you, sweet Dracula
I really enjoy your Transylvania Twist
Perhaps later on a sexy slow dance
I'll happily expose neck and wrist
I love that red cape flows with ease
While others stare with jealous eyes
The undead boogie is such a treat
It makes me feel weak in my thighs
Your eyes are very hypnotic
I have not one thought for another
Yes my blood has begun to turn cold
Still you make this heart feel a flutter
When the evening is done don't fly away
I'll gladly accompany you to your crypt
Just one more time around the dance floor
Wait! Is that my blood I see on your lip?"
For the May I Dance With You Halloween Contest sponsored by Galen DS.
Note: "Transylvania Twist" is from the song Monster Mash.
The Terrible Ghastly Beastliness of
"THE POTATO CADAVER UNDEAD REVIVAL" (sonnet)
The Potato of Terror, April 24th 2002
They dug him up with a great pointed spade,
Awoke him from his rest of ninety years,
And O what a great bellowing he made,
And shook his fists, and twitched his pointed ears!
For there was much skullduggery afoot,
And horrid ghastly beastliness besides,
The Spud Maiden's Swan Song had taken root
Deep in his soul and tuberous insides.
Her tragic voice had roused the pixie throngs
Provoked the wrath of tuber overlords,
And small brown furry things in rubber thongs
Sprang to their feet and brandished tiny swords.
King Edwards, Caras! Hide your youngest sons!
A vast undead potato this way comes!
Numb in this wrecked skin
My eyes still working hard in its blurred sight
Walked limply with no direction
Pursuit the hope of a lost life
This town is full of dead dreams
People dive in patterns of camouflaged sin
Those are black bloods which stained
As well as my existence which is nearly dim
Dried roses fallen
Shattered as a carpet
My brain didn't work
But this bloody veins pushed me too hard
I fail to recall yesterday
As I fail to hope for tomorrow
This is the eternal thirst
No water can satisfy this
I see somebody in that mirror
Not in a good shape nor in a good look
I tried to see it even closer
But the reflection keeps bumping at me
With amazement face, it stares back at me
I continue my walk in this messed street
I don't have any idea how it starts
I don't have any idea when it ends
I live for today, I live along with the step I take
Yanny Widjanarko
October 18,2013
Halloween Poem Contest with Only 1 theme
Sponsor: Leonora Galinta
Burn the bodies, Lady Vengeance's sweet Solicitor,
Shadows chase away laughter and days bleed into night.
Rise, Rise again, blood of the undead traitor.
The towers are unforgiving, they are bitter,
Grey skies that hovers above all they bear witness with startling sight.
Burn the bodies, Lady Vengeance's sweet Solicitor,
Fate and fantasies grapple as one who might emerge victor?
The prisoner begs in vain and broken for release into the world of light,
Rise, Rise again, blood of the undead traitor.
Kings and queens lived and died as mortals, the kingdom's greatest dictators,
Those who reasoned with the Devil,should have known what is better and right.
Burn the bodies, Lady Vengeance's sweet Solicitor.
Hollow guests of the darkened chambers moan as one and me, the narrator-
I am deeply transformed, because the stories they tell, hooks to my mind. Fight
To rise, rise again, blood of the undead traitor.
But a man can only kneel before greatness and submit himself to the creator.
And when I turn my head, only to see the Thames trailing softly by, washed by midnight-
Burn the bodies, Lady Vengeance's sweet Solicitor.
Rise, Rise again, blood of the undead traitor.
Grey, melting, dry skin
Are you lost?
Bloodthirsty, horrible creature
You are afraid of the reality--
but you know the nightmare you don't live is true
Lifeless, dead eyes
You see nothing but hunger
You're a cry in the lonely night
a dream, never remembered
Wandering, aimlessly
with your menacing, crippled pace
and your intention to cause pain
To tear into the relations of your long, gone feelings
You're just a death threat to the burned, flaming world
Silly, mangled, tired face
with your lurking, stalking, restless gaze
You long for touch, you cry for resurrection
without saying a single, broken word
You greeted death with open arms
the pain you felt when you knew you were gone
But death gives you a slap to the face
laughing a wicked cackle, he's mocking sly mace
A morbid reality
You're trapped in this dying, apocalyptic dimension
a never ending stab in your crisp, grey chest
a feeling of pain, eternal, doomed depression
And it never ends
a spiral of insanity that won't give you rest
Alone, you're all alone now
no one to run you, no one to help
With your paralyzed gait
and your threatening, guilty eyes
they see nothing, nothing at all
A shot through the head
will surely bring you back
you're not alone forever
Soon the nightmare will end
and you'll be gone once again.
the undead arise
slowly lurking around me
to prepare moon's feast
Halloween Senryu for Laura Loo
10/20/2017
Every night the land is
consumed by darkness, the
only light is provided by
the distant moon and stars
that seem to shimmer almost
innocently.
Still life remains present
even within the smallest of
cracks.
Innocence seems to pollute
the air like some sort of
noxious gas, choking the
lungs of the most whispered
of creatures.
Out of the darkness shadows
are born, they follow every
living thing, like a parasite
ready to infect.
Strangely they are not part
of the earth for they are
nothing but the essence of
jealousy, hatred and evil.
They bare marks of their
dreaded nature upon their
dead and waxy skin that
shimmers like water in
the night.
They have no face, only
opaque eyes and canine
teeth exist that can
tear limb from limb.
Myths and legends sprung
around them makes them
deadly and uncouth but
still they follow in
our shadows.
They are the undead,
morbid creatures of
darkness, forever
in our wake ready
to steal our most
precious gift that
flows through our veins,
that gift is life,
given to us by our
Mother, then yet Mother
nature has a dark side
for monsters of the night
are born from the very
darkness she provides.
The undead – demons of
the night, unseen and
immortal.
Lying in their coffins
Ready to receive their orders
Then relay to their minions
Enemies to receive no quarter
Bringing hordes into lockstep
In the glow of gothic night
Where dreams and nightmares
Are presented in plain sight
Then the bell tolls
They begin to open their eyes
The hour is fast approaching
The power to hypnotize
The moon is turning red
Or so goes the perception
It only takes one angle
To sell a bloody inception
Eyes now fully open
And then they begin to rise
Levitating like ghoulish monsters
Damned souls to moonlit skies
The bell strikes again
And they click off the snooze
An early day for American anchors
Who daily present the news
“If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually
come to believe it. The lie can be maintained only for such time as the
State can shield the people from the political, economic and/or military
consequences of the lie. It thus becomes vitally important for the State
to use all of its powers to repress dissent, for the truth is the mortal
enemy of the lie, and thus by extension, the truth is the greatest enemy
of the State.”
-Joseph Goebbels (Adolf Hitler's right hand man and minister of
Propaganda of the Third Reich.)
Cough, blood everywhere, sneeze
Rotten flesh, wracked in disease
Brainless, basic instinct to eat
Cannibal, horror that they greet
Wanderer, on the road to no where
Dead eyes, unintelligent stare
Groan, the cry of death
Violence, like a junkie on meth
Shuffle, lack of balance
Virus, for the living zero tolerance
Decay, everyone will die
Apocalypse, the time is nigh
Undead,
misled.
(for the Frightful Footle contest)
©Danielle White