Long Graveyard Poems
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There's an obscurity on the threads of darkness
dare I peer beneath the starless shroud of midnight's veil
as I walk through the misty breath that beclouds my vision
in hopes it leads me to the temple of your soul? My dearest
my comfort is there, yet I feel a quivering in the flames
beneath these gusts that prevail through inaudible voices falling
winded in the distance where these shadows walk between us
I feel discernment in memories as these bony fingers reach out
my heart shudders beneath the orchestra of night as it beckons
a samba from the angel of death as it spans its wings before me
I shiver breathless in its cold as the flames grow dimmer
yet this time love, I fear for you as dissolution ascends above me
Muddled mind ventures through vivid vales of scepticism.
Slowly subsiding to my knees under the shadow of moonlight,
crows gathers as helpless hands clench decomposing soil.
Sapless lips gasp for oxygen, shivering in illusory mistiness.
Death's harbinger stands before me, an uninvited hooded eclipse,
holding me prisoner, strangling my soul with naked tree tendrils.
In silent steps he walks towards me, I have no will left to fight.
He has no mercy, content on me kissing the mouth of the earth.
Words hidden behind metaphors, surface upon shores of regret,
flashbacks are like daggers, reminders of unspoken, unwritten words.
My love mourn for me not, as I fall into the graveyards of poets,
in death we still connect, as my words will always live through you.
A Collaboration with Silent One~
Without end
In the haunted castle where all is quiet,
There walks a man with a ghostly face.
It is forever changing, a million images;
The nightmares staring back at him in the mirror;
The memories, the dreams never spoken and the wishes never made.
Dressed from head to toe in a cloak of black,
He is a blast from the past
And he is lost to the thoughts that have never been had.
No sound to be heard on the castle grounds,
Except for the wind blowing the cries of all the lost souls.
The ghosts are outside walking from the beyond into the now.
Time has been turned upon its head; a history of bones.
The graveyard is empty, for the bodies have arisen.
This land is his home, but he is without a reason inside his prison.
He does not ask for salvation, because no redemption will be given.
He is without a desire to be loved; he is lost without feelings.
He can never leave the castle grounds,
Because at the edge there exists an invisible barrier
And no exit to be found.
A hundred years have passed on by, since the time of his death.
Some say this was his darkest time,
But they are those still with breath.
With all his might he stands against,
The tide of what was and what still is,
But still he died, still he is here and still he does not live.
Now he haunts his castle alone,
He is without a soulmate; he is without a friend.
He has no hold of his own ill-fated soul,
For he is trapped in the never seen and his life has no end.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
A graveyard stands upon the hill;
its tombstones smoothed beneath the tide
of nature's forces beating hard;
I pass and hear the buried cry.
"Reverse the trend, relentless grown,
that would erase our names for aye;
for who grants thought to silent stones
and corpses claimed in nameless graves?
We yet would speak, if you inquire,
if you draw near with ear and heart .
We speak of dreams left unfulfilled;
we sing our song which but in part
was heard before our souls were claimed.
Oh, who will hear what we would tell
with our last link with life consumed,
when dust with dust is mingled well?
We have a vision unattained
by you who still are flesh and bone;
if you our secrets wish to shard,
dare carve us deeper in the stone."
©Faye Lanham Gibson, 1987
This poem was inspired by a very old cemetery behind my home.
The tombstones were worn so badly that the names could hardly
be discerned.
Anti-Poem – “At The Hollywood Plaza With Eddie And Dolores”
(Poet’s Instruction – Kindly play “You Can’t Be True, Dear,” by Ken Griffin, 1946, while reading).
she be smelling mighty good my dolores
she be my mexican chick from silver lake
man her deep brown eyes hypnotize me
her momma say she like me and my ford
I be driving a red ’46 super deluxe coupe
my catholic beads be hanging down from
the rearview mirror they tap like dancers
tonight she be dressed for eating burgers
my dolores she and her tight green dress
we be cruising the miracle mile for shows
when she say she want to see cary grant
i say you mad girl but let’s go to the plaza
in hollywood we can sit close in the lobby
we can listen to the organ music and kiss
maybe we see cary grant walking by there
maybe your big dream come true tonight
now we be kissing under fiery chandeliers
the flashy famous people be passing us by
the organ whining from a distant corridor
howling like a ghost in a greasy graveyard
my sweet dolores she be asking the time
when a pretty woman she sits down by us
i’m thinking she be a star at last i say hello
the blue-eyed babe she smile back at me
a red flower be pinned to her brown curls
here on a date she say to us smoking now
my babe say we be waiting for cary grant
now the girl say we might wait a long time
she say she saw him once at the florentine
she say he even tipped her a five dollar bill
man her deep blue sky eyes hypnotize me
now she say her date is outside in a sedan
be careful she say hollywood can be cruel
the organ music still be playing in whispers
moaning like pale ghost girls in a neon fog
Everyone in town knows
Philmon is a mad scientist
It's not his little hunchback buddy
Or the crazy smocks in which he's always dressed
It's not the lighting clouds over his house
Or the strange sounds from which his basement grew
No, it's not any of those things
That gives the town it's clue
It's not all of the darkened birds
That hang out on his fence
Or his subscription to Weird Science Weekly
And on what it is his time is spent
Not even when things always turn up missing
Down at the local graveyard
No, it's the "HONK" if you love Mad Scientists sticker
On the bumper of his car
To your place, pass negative noon.
As the moon drifts over the loss...
images of a different life swimming.
In the depths of the ones fevered past.
Catching fire lights by jars of jade.
Razors slice the heart comprehend...
The black parade marched to the metronome.
In the shadow of turning, ruined metropolis...
Fly high, your moon of God's eye!
As things swim into view,
to the places of your demise.
As I drink tea in the shade of a black sun.
Haloed in eclipsing starlight!
Tendrils reach the earth burn, raw, rare crust...
Shattering my cup, its shards suspended in the
flash of the holocaustic blast, a super nova!
A nuclear cloud burst overhead,
Don’t want to get my face wet,
There’s going to be a photograph.
As the onyx burns, rides to negative noon!
And imagery is frozen in, telegraph. Here!
A hum of electric snow on the telly?
The buzz of electron guns fire,
Catching lightning in a jaded jar!
Collecting razors from a blistered heart.
The black promenade,
Boots marching to the metronome.
In the shadow of turning, ruined metropolis!
...of tombstones and graveyard visions.
Fly high, your Blackstar of Gods' Eye...
Watch the banner wave.
The child smile grave.
The hand clutching tight.
As all bust into nuclear flame...
Suspended in the firelight!
It was com'in up on daybreak
I was run'in out of time
While every second ran like sweat
Just one thought filled my mind
If he would turn his back
Or maybe look away
I could reach down in my boot to get
My gun, to make my play
But he had one eye trained on me
With one eye on the gold
I knew I'd better act real soon
Or end up stiff and cold
Then suddenly, I heard a voice
From down the graveyard mound
A voice I've heard once before
It was the sheriff of the town
He hollered to the Doc
"Is everything all right,
it concerned me just a little
you were up here through the night"
As the Sheriff walked through the shadows
of leafless trees long dead
He drew and cocked his pistol
then put a bullet through Doc's head
My first thought was, he saved me
But I really felt unsure
Perhaps is was the way
he was staring at the ore
And as I moved so slowly
inching toward my gun
the sheriff said "Hold It,
I wouldn't that son"
to be continued
Hattie L. Rogers
1844 – 1917
The playing cards of life are a stacked deck.
As soon as you begin to breathe
You begin to die and disintegrate.
All of the winners in life
Eventually end up the losers.
You enter this Big House with nothing.
Nothing but a cracked soul, a cursed heart
And that stacked deck of crooked playing cards.
Your destiny, my friends, lies in the dust.
So I figured early on, like King Solomon,
That there is no use; it is all futile and hopeless at best.
When I came to this sad realization
About life on this staggering planet,
I decided the only worthwhile meaning in living
Is in finding true happiness,
Even in the midst of hopeless despair.
Even in the midst of this mocking gaping graveyard
That lusts for flesh and blood
Like Odysseus’ giant with the one eye
Like a carnivorous Scylla, hiding high up in its dark perch,
Up there in the insidious shadows,
Awaiting another human meal at noontide.
So, what happiness did I find in my 73 years?
Years that seemed to fly by like a hummingbird in April.
I found ineffable joy
In the phenomenal nativity of my twin boys.
Found indescribable ecstasy
In the tender embrace of my loving husband,
Found incomparable elation
In the survival of my children and grandchildren.
Living descendants, you are always welcome to loiter at my grave.
Bring a pack of cards though.
I am always up for a new ante.
I Have been there
I have really been there
*
I have been there in the spring
I have been there in the summer
I have been there in the autumn
I have been there in the winter
*
I Have been there
I have really been there
*
I have been there
Inside and outside
Dry and wet
Hot and cold
*
I have been there
In a hospital hallway
In a graveyard
In an airport
*
I Have been there
I have really been there
*
I have startet to weep
Several times; different places
Funerals;
Heartbreak
*
I Have been there
I have really been there
*
You know
Those long seconds
Before you feel
The relief of weeping
*
I Have been there
I have really been there
When love went away...many many long years ago
A life of roller coasters
Ocean waves ---storm inside the brain---Titanic Blues --
A Dissipated Dream
A long nightmare ---Sleepless lullaby
Black and White rainbow ---
Kaleidoscope Heart ---Souvenir
Life spent all alone---
Colorblind Dreamscape
Wait for return,.. I miss you
Whispering trees---All remind me of you
Beyond the light--- My eternal grief
Canopy of Pain ---Graveyard of dreams
Echo came back---You Complete me..
Undeciphered.. The Horizon of Eternity
The Unknown---Unfinished poem
Deja vu---One sided Love...Silent Love...
Obsession ---Paradise
Love you Forever.
Dated 12 th of July 2019
Sponsor charles messina
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