Dead Poems

Volcabulary of the Dead

i’m cooking these words on the stove,  
hoping they won’t burn—  
but they burst into flames,  
fierce with laser focus,  
only to be choked on  
when spoon-fed,  
and regurgitated  
when swallowed.  

served like fast food—  
empty calories filling the gaps  
meant to comfort,  
to

the dead choir

this choir only sings for one,
when once, blue-birds two,
the reflection of the splashing,
two souls, laughing against rapids,
when you danced, under moonlight,
I lost myself blinded to your sight,
a heaven, swiped two hands twice,
a mourning for a special someone,
the dunce springs off youth,
the affection of hand holding,
two nouns of sublimity,
Wish to rewind before that night.

Dread is Dead

Says he dreads his demonic disease,

But he spreads it like cheap processed cheese.

Don't think you can blame ME!

You'll never inflame ME!

What???....Mister Mephistopheles...PLEASE!!!

A Eulogy in Memory of My Dead Love

A Eulogy in Memory of My Dead Love

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen! My Loved Brothers and Sisters! Respected Believers!
This day, this Saturday, is very sad in the calendar. Cold, oppressive autumn day.
We may once again witness the departure of a mortal soul. This is her last journey.

Yes. Hmm. This is her last hour in our world.

Ciara Cybelle

Her winsome smile belied her secret essence
A temptress and siren 
Given to saturnine quintessence

And I a man of placid and calm complexion
Became ever more umbrageous
With each stranger she offered affection

Ciara Cybelle chose to take her chances
Unconcerned by my mood
Continued her frenzied romances

She swooned at my charm
And laughed at my wit
And yet held to another man’s

Message To Mantis

To all the male members
of the praying mantis species
a word to the wise you guys
now pay attention to my theses
whether for fun you recreate
or to mate and procreate
it's something I really would not advocate
hold on tight to your pants
love at first sight is not romance
I don't care if you look
but never dare go so far
as

Return of the Bird: Grandpa Dairies

The doctor told us,
“He doesn’t have long left to live”.
He could say that again, 
I already know,
So his voice to me is nothing but howling winds. 
Blowing angrily, 
Trying to devour my hopeful, 
‘Maybe-pointlessly-so’ grin. 

But really these are times we thought we’d grieve.

Sitting at the foot of his bed, 
Just staring like this feeling

6 Dead, 4 Wounded, And One On The Way

Leukemia boys and
Leukemia girls wave
in hospital volunteers,
as the angels wave
them away.

What is 
love?

Beyond
an overpriced
ambulance ride,
and an unnecessary
hospital stay?

The most beautiful things:
summer sweat,
and Rome after
rain.

Inside,
a child draws
a yellow sun
with trembling fingers.
The IV, taped
down like it’s trying
to hold him
there.

Forced positivity.
A heart full of
apathy.

I see that
same world you try
to see with substance sober,
and I’ll be the first to

Dead Poets Society

Dead Poets Society 
Right to choose 
Rebellious youth 
No hesitation to voice your own opinion 
“Carpe Diem” (seize the day) 
Unorthodox teachings 
Literature and a master piece 
Paper writer polished 
Ray of light, you only live once 
Timeless poetry 
Show your own identity 
Know who you are 
Stand up for what you believe in 
Dead

The Walking Dead

Walking dead. Zombies.
Drones looking for sustinance.
Hungry with blank eyes.
Living no life and loveless.
Aimlessly forging ahead.

Walking dead. Zombies.
Reminds me of the living.
No life, yet still here.
Sit in front of screens and die;
Wasting away to nothing.

Walking dead. Zombies.
Perhaps, we are the dead ones.
Not truly alive;
Missing all-important things.
Killing off our connection.

Tanka Triptych Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Anderson
Entered:08/17/2025

Brain Dead Airhead Co-Ed

So, stranded on Framingham Turnpike,
I walked from the corpse of my Vette
(Unsure just what gasoline burns like),
as far as my high heels could get.

The tow trucker guy got my blood up,
his big chest all covered in hair.
He wordlessly lifted the hood up,
and studied the engine with care.

I’d let the poor pistons get wet, or
my battery

when i'm dead, bury me with party ring biscuits

in a leather jacket
birthday cake sandwiches help 
clear my sinuses
Googly Hancock; and backseat baristas 
Bob Dylan is back in the studio
did he pop out to the shops? Where's he been?
Big Daddy Kane outside Dapper Dan's - 
You tossed a coin in the fountain
Wishing to be as happy as a blue cat
storckappopotamus 
there will be no

9 DEAD BODIES BURNED ALIVE BY GARGANO LAYING IN THE HALLS

THE BODIES REMAINED IN THE HALLS DUE TO THE SMALL EXAM ROOMS NO DOCTOR COULD WORK IN SUCH A SMALL SPACE NO DOCTOR WOULD SQUEEZE A CROWD INTO A TINY ROOM IT WOULDN'T HAPPEN CIRO GARGANO DECIDED TO SLANDER BULLY MY FAMILY AFTER HE KILLED 9 PEOPLE IN THE FIRES OF HELL THEY DIED FROM

Dead End

When do flowers no longer bloom
and the sea's stop touching the shore.

Light from the heaven's fail to shine
and the birds shall sing no more.

Innocent's of children no longer play
as time like a candle melts away.

Fleeting are the moments
we get to spend
and death is the reason
it all does end.

dead ends

artless darts pierce heartless hearts 
garrulous gnats deafen rancorous rats
rabid foxes beget brainless rocks

we are all dead
when it all ends

there are too many dead ends

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