Haunted Cemetery
Carved stones stand in a silent place,
The moon sparkles on every face,
Not live faces, but carved in bones,
Where whispers warp and shadows moan.
On moonlight nights, near tangled trees,
Spirits roam, with their will quite free,
Beseeching stuffs from passers-by,
Rolling their tongues with a blunt sigh.
One night, close by the graveyard`s gate,
A spirit in white, crossed my fate,
Pleading for a candle as gift,
I took to my heels, with a rift.
I spied a valley low
Across the road from the cemetery
A Columbus monkey swinging by
The trees of the vale
Stood tall and forlorn
Observing the crematorium
Covered in light gray smoke
As morning traffic streamed on by
Giraffe reached for the tallest bough
And I thought I heard the leopards growl
And by the road was a troop of baboons
As people walked on by
And a few yards away,
Was the army garrison
A regiment trooped on by,
As a sounder was grazing idly by
And people walked on by
Yes I spied a valley low
Where life carried on slow
Across the road from the cemetery
Where footsteps were dull and hollow
A funeral procession was going on
Yes the trees of the vale
Were tall and forlorn
The sun hung high and lorn
As were the clouds of dawn
As I drove along that road
Away from that valley low
Still of weeping rank
At Blood Bank
And a Monster to tackle
In Transfusion circle;
Donors to save their pints
Or get ready to be clients
For the fiercest legal battle
That could The Bones rattle
Of their counsels: Baker or Sawyer
Widely judged “The Best Lawyer!”
Still oiling The Aids chainsaw
Whose savagery is sure:
A body violating its symmetry
And flying it to the cemetery …
Ever, The Forerunner of Wrecked Gum
That never helps a tuneful hum,
The body of victims a Leopard’s
Whereas they’re rather bipeds …
Yet to send prostitution packing
But much of its thrill sacking.
a beautiful silence
spirals from turrets
that twist like the pathways
through the bracken and grass.
the stars that still shine here
are mapped out as numbers
in a gothic hereafter
for the tourists who pass.
Just we know what we make it off well as the number to reply that night
They said ” I am not bad I need in opposite directions”
The backs are too rough and smooth.
I smile or not but that exists numerous horizon
How did you define them by their respective?
Do you solute for watching it?
Many questions are so easy for questioning.
I asked,” How is going on?”
The days, these days, their days, whatever.
Spring may be failed to make a decision about the new version.
”Oh my God” is damaged.
If I reached remembered, Where was my first time: hiding.
Their song which doesn't hope,
Is this sense clean?
Although we make it, we will be rejected what it receives.
Thwelt Di Nwe
the winter cemetery
a full moon, gravestones, shadowed dentistry
the snow crisp underfoot
the shadows black as soot
silence broke, I hurt my butt
falling on a shadow hiding symmetry
the winter cemetery
I cleared the snow whence, not intentionally
hells inferno, open
my back I had broken
my flowers, my token
lay scattered over all, so irreverently
Warm air gently flows.
Trees wave in the back ground.
Hot sun Beating, Everything feels alive.
Stones protrude from the ground.
Quietness interrupted by birds singing.
Sounds of weeping quietly drifts away.
Fresh flowers cover the names.
Conversation takes place no one answers.
Staring at the names they look familiar.
Tears bouncing off the tombstones.
Light warm breeze tickles the ear, Heart fills with joy.
Death so final.
Loved one left many unanswered questions.
Eyes still tearing wondering if they made it to heaven.
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