Long Mortuary Poems

No Halloween Candy

I can't get no Halloween candy.
I can't get no Halloween candy.
But I try, and I try, and I try, and I try.
I can't get no.  I can't get no.

Well I'm walking door...

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Do you sometimes wonder about your self identity
seen through your lens for suicidal risk as opportunity?

It interests me that this lens
evolves as we age.

In later adolescence,
we often look in the face of transition
from good nutritional...

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Death Comes

All arguments and denials were fruitless;
The deceased fell prey to the Master Thief.

The “One” whose icy-cold touch is . . .
Just Too Cold to Resist! . . . They Say!

No worries though . ....

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the episode took place near the sewer
the boy lay lifeless on the stiff ground
his white clothes dipping in red
a rowdy mob encircled him
like vultures awaiting the surrender of a fighting  spirit
his horrified eyes gave...

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THE POET’S SESTINA

The poet put the pen to his head and killed himself;
 he shot the leftovers of an ideal in a second of no-thought.
 His girlfriend found him rolled in a splash of ink
...

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Black garments fall to the floor
Boots off, cane leaned against the door
Top hat lifts, welcoming them all

A bottle of ketchup in hand. . .

“Hello there,” He says to no one in particular
Some eyes stare upward,...

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****OUR ENEMIES IN DISGUISE***
Norman MacClain wrote, "it is those we live and love, and should know, who loot us"
But whether we like it or not they exist
For some are endowment
And others we got after birth
As...

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Written: September 19, 2023
Mocking The Dead Poetry Contest           Sponsored by: Silent One 
"Do not be afraid of death. Death transforms to something wider. Death is...

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Halloween at the Bates Hotel (revised)

The attendant in the Ghostface rig was kinda creepy,
When I came in to pay him what I owed.
“Is there a motel nearby? I’m really sleepy.”
He pointed down a dark and...

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To my rivers of thinking needles in my heart to the haters’ smile goes to the cake love, I cannot stop lamenting to lemonade. My comrades they were sealed in plastics bags to pontiff to...

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Pinkerton's mortician is the richest man in town...despite the fact, the story goes, despite the day he'd came
Ridin' in from Badger Holler - dressed in filthy rags - lookin' for a meal without a penny...

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mother said the best place to laugh is in the graveyard and mortuary.
father told us the better place to cry is in the church,
but, I've learnt that the white place for all these is within...

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> Do not read if of a nervous disposition . I am committed to sending at least one poem a day to some social media page. Poetry Soup want us to send one each Tuesday...

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The Crushed Skulls

the crushed skulls

and the 

torn-off legs

and the 

single shots piercing countless heads


women, men, children
young, old, everyone just a human being

when will we tire of the senseless killing which we keep on impotently seeing


the...

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To access the house there was a slight slope from the sidewalk, the door was in the gap under the stairs that led to the upper floor, behind that building was the vegetable garden with...

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When I was younger i was taught to believe in god
Now i wonder if i misunderstood, Whether it was all a mirage
Baptized in holy water so the father could give a trial by fire
Suicidal thoughts...

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Upon this world in centuries long past, 
  Dwelt in woodland glades and pastures fresh, 
The spirit of Utopia was cast 
  By nymphs and faeries in their pristine flesh. 

In innocence and...

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On the day before Christmas 1997 I was in a supermarket
Saw many people,I thought it’ll take long time to buy gifts
Christmas  getting more and more annoying every year,
Cursed and wondered if kids really play...

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On the day before Christmas, 1997 I was in a supermarket
Saw many people, I thought it’ll take long time to buy gifts
Christmas getting more and more annoying every year,
Cursed and wondered if kids really play...

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Fifty nine inch tall wife
once willowy wisp
postmenopausal galloping gourmandiser
playboy centerfold girly
figure ain't no mo,'
which superfluous weight deterrent,

love life yours truly
took Kamikaze nosedive
arousing, exciting, stimulating...
as romancing the stone statue,
but seen thru Tom 
gobbler beady eyes

butterball babe...

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The narrowing of choice, opaque or black?
Unconfident die castes vote ballot blank,
How has our circus bread become this bland?
What a diverse homogeneous blend,
All stitched to sleeves but less with blood to bleed,
Philosophy’s deep silenced sonar...

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In a place many others often dread
Near the hollowed trees, and the haunted seas
She glides along the tumbledown cemetery
Deep down knowing those who are no longer living
Through bones remain, aren’t even truly dead

She’s Halloween even...

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Interruptions

She calls each day at noon, after her 
maple bar and coffee.  
Her only meal for the day.  Whiskey’s 
dinner.
I try to pick up.  Answering machines 
seem to frustrate her.

I want to...

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She just don't get the way it makes me break a little more cause she pays me no mind
I'm so in love with her, but feelings me she left so far behind
Even when we're together...

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You be my love for you come from my roots 
You hate my black overall and black rubber boots
You adore brutes
Who wear white socks and black suits
Why should I trap a suit when I sweat...

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