Corpse Poems

Love is a corpse

Love is a corpse, 
a slab on table and a checklist of finds,
6’ 2’’, rich, educated, white, slim,
a post-mortem on a body still fresh

Love is a casino,
a gamble in bright lights,
a bargaining of chips falling where they may,
an under-table sleight of hand

Love is a firework,
a hallucinogenic bonfire blaze
that spirals and swirls with a forever
waiting, a

KEEP CALM AND CARRY THE CORPSE

KEEP CALM AND CARRY THE CORPSE

Britain bleeds through cracked red bricks,
Rain on windows, cold that sticks.
Bills climb high, wages crawl,
We’re taxed to the teeth — can’t breathe at all.



“Keep calm and carry the corpse,” they say.
Drag it through life, day after day.
Smile for the cameras, wave the flag,
Ignore the stench in the body bag.



Politicians promise

Piloting My Own Corpse

The world is quiet here
Yet growing louder by the day
Renting paradise from vultures
Split amongst two flavors of instability

I clamored and dreamed for that golden armor
That title that would cement my name in history
To be a "hero" to someone I'd lose contact with forever
Scars fade, and eternity is short

I saw my dreams given flesh
No gaps left

dear life

dear life holding though seems dropped 
seems well keepsake just head propped
all stages work cards play right 
while smile never think laugh fight 
lose focus find few new pills
rob future paywall advance
lift feet one front partner dance
kiss wife lovely dead weights corpse
don't go stay home destroy thorps
take arms see sails more increase
tattoo flag wave war

Cemetery of Corpse Roses

"Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow. " ~ Shakespeare

As fragments of the stars abandoned
the sage of night, my kohl heart bleeds
beside your trembling tombstone,
while soul aches to seize the
fading scents within
the iris of
auroras,
leaving
dreams
and
I, lost
like the speed
of shooting sparks,
twirling above ghosts
in the cemetery
of wild corpse roses, whistling
moonless requiems

things that thrill

the
three things 
that t h r i l l
                                   b e a t        

Blessed by Death

I lie, naked, cast aside in the shadows,
My flesh, bare, crumbles among the carcasses of half-dying thoughts.

I stare upon myself—
Is this truly I,
This forsaken creature,
Smiling with bitter contentment at my eternal decay?
Is this endless humiliation
Truly the flame of my soul burning within my skin?
Who was it that shaped me?

And who, so merciless, invited me to

Corpse Flower

Who would wait in line to smell
A flower that’s so vile
Its odor reeks like rotting flesh,
Quite hard to reconcile

With all the other lovely plants
The Gardens* have on view?
I’m not sure I would make the trip
To check it out; would you?

This specimen, just one of four
To thrive in the U.S.
Has been here seven years, but never
Bloomed

A Flowerless Corpse

Snowing-- a hiemal, deathly air
 Their frigid, frostbitten fingers hold nothing
  Uncomfortable silence washes over all there
   A petalless, thorny rose someone is clutching

   Her corpse, defunct, stiff yet motionless
  Skin, once warm brown, now ghastly
 Her grinning face, now emotionless
They thought she would die lastly

Life has limits, death

Corpse

The sky is blue again
Nothing left for me to gain
I was so sure I'd get over 
Yet I don't feel sober
I've left all of my hopes
My body is turning into a corpse

I can't see myself in the mirror
Being around people feels like a terror
I look so blue
My brain don't get any clue
I've tried to cross

Whispering Corpses

    These feelings, thought long forgotten, awoke and raised their ugly heads.
Whispering your words and seeing into my consciousness; this vacant glare of the dead. 

Pain cups it's gnarled hands, corpse breath hot and dry against my ear,
Reminding me of promises longed for but now I'm loath to hear.

I've done the tedious,

Autumn Leaves

Amber, orange, red, gold  falL
Undergo change from green lifE
Touched by sweet decaying aromA
Undercurrent swirling dance of improV
Marauding chill in the breezE
Nimble corpses, once living thingS

human-shaped soils

a carcass is moving
out from the white of the eye it is 
so all-consuming 
dots form in lines on the absentee spine 
dry undefined lumps are soft and infusing
the bruises and rind and the opal contusions 
they fire with pus and with derelict mucus that 
rises in shape as if living and human 

adorned in

Song of The Corpse Flower, No 10: ABAB

Bug-free surroundings are most possible,
but not this repulsive, disgusting beast.
The so-called, Corpse Flower, how shockable,
repulsive, disgusting, and to the least
of it said, gives off such a horrid stench,
unbearable, odoriferous--mesh
vibrant acts that the breed needs to entrench
pollinators to the scent of dead flesh.
Twill bloom as the largest inflorescence,
a total flower stems, stalks, bracts, and bloom.
Twill blossom

The Corpse of a Hissing Cat

Sooty black and thin boned,
velvet almost, but stringy.
Hard to define
the shape of a hissing cat
that was so soon alive and kicking,
but now lies dead
on my neighbor's lawn.

I would watch it on summer evenings
crouching low
under the hedgerow hunting small birds.
Fortunately for the birds
it most always missed,
then he would hiss loudly,
and walk away,
skinny tail up
as if he

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