Necrotic Poems

America Lost Its Innocence

                                  7/14/2025

Oh, how could this have ever happened here?
A free naton with baseball, movies and beer?

Those days when other nations cry against the USA…….DIE?
I think on tha, when we turned  far left… America’s very soul died.

Those who so loathe and hate our free nation.
Created conspiracy theories,like…boll weevils.
They would do anything to destroy this nation and make America evil?

None of us realizing,  how this would divide all of us.
A necrotic snake filled some, like decaying green pus.

And the proof is in the yowling streets of PA is heard .
Of misled shouts of hate, like  some insane, hysterical, mysteriuos birds.

Many people died but  many unaware, people could care less!
They much prefer riotinh and lies and walk in a state of mental undress.

Our streets full of both USA and Israeli shrill haters.
In masks and flags,green flafs~ such insane, victim baiters.

That “religious” mantra shouted aboard the 9/11 plaines,
Rings in my tender ears, like an exploding, crashing train.

Lilith

And you didn’t make me 
I formed myself 
From the periodic table 
with a little help 
You added slurs and 
blackened my milk 
Turned me into a scapegoat 
and my flesh to filth

And you never broke me 
I smashed up myself 
Unseen fractures
healed wrong by themselves 
Broke the mold early 
was looking too good 
Patriarchally cast 
as the whore of love 

And you cannot destroy me 
I’ll do it by myself 
Sick of covering up
what never turned out 
The unseen twists
and labyrinth of lies
I’ve no f*cking soul
a doubt, or denial 

And you’ll never fix me 
It’s down to myself 
I look in the mirror 
pondering why else
All this potential 
rotting away inside 
Necrotic failure 
unrepairable child

And I cannot be forgiven 
I’ll find a way myself 
For being too perfect 
lacking self respect 
On freak show earth
a man made planet 
falling to bits 
You pious can have it 


greatest story ever written ~ will not be penned with a kids mitten 

apples perhaps said she to Adam ~ my fruits were never forbidden

a fig leaf rose one more fell ~ as the whore of man Lilith got bitten

Healing Rays

grief
within
cultivates
necrotic seeds
beneath harrowing wastelands battling faith 
whispering whimsical tunes of mourning
midst healing rays
of natures 
shining
hope 
soar
above
star-studded 
illusions of
deceiving minds adorned in gilded lies
veiled in halcyon sunsets drizzling tears
free flowing as
ill fated
remnants
burnt

Apoplectic Begat Comatose

Eh, Bebe ... 
clueless you with the wide eyes open, 
which can’t see

So apoplectic of heart,
paralyzed by the cobra sway
of changeling channel charmer words

Gen Z baby gloomer 
remote diaphragm controlled,
go back to analog sleep

Oh  oh ... video comatose — 
Nightmares begat by daydreams
of reel digital silver screams

Lost Vegas patch-eye vision
of one arm pulled down
And the coins keep trickling
into your open palms

Baby Bebe gon umbilical vault cray  cray
Cut the cord of the eyelid dark violet curtains ... 
bling-bling blind birth 
shut the womb of twin retinal glow dearth

So aorta slow,
slug cranial coma critical ... 
lobotomy comatose

Virtual voices say:
eh, Bebe — 
Pull the plug ... let the dying vapors go,
expired from a necrotic nasal

Neon Night: Urban Sonnet

Above, the shrill of neon lights portend
a promise of new love in garish hues,
but for a broken life yet on the mend
the darkness of the scape brings only views
of solitude when memory accrues
as strangers unimpassioned eyes peruse.

The music wafts from grottoes down below,
blue jazz and candles in a shadowed room,
while up here floodlights cast necrotic glow
as wind gusts and the drops of rain resume.
Cold luminance is all that they exhume
just as my mind expects a rose to bloom.

Your recent death keeps looping in my mind,
no passing faces in the crowd are yours.
I walk the night, imagine you in kind
emerging through the uninviting doors
like Cathy to go dancing on the moors.
I rush beneath an eave as now it pours,

your white reflection standing in the rain,
come back to haunt the neon night again.

1/23/18

Au Revoir

Blood
drips
cold
through
breathless
necrotic
lips,



au revoir.




11/09/2017

The Brown Recluse

The Brown Recluse, its pathway goes
Past radiator’s stanchion rows
On to the corner, up the wall
Across the ceiling then to fall
Upon my bed. But no one knows.

This silent killer never slows
When seeking prey, seeing all,
No soul sparing, and few recall
The Brown Recluse!

On some its horrid bite bestows
Necrotic death that ever grows,
Consuming flesh, a spreading gall,
Oh hear and heed my urgent call!
Hunt down this pest, then fast depose
The Brown Recluse.

July 5, 2017
Rondeau form
For “Form R” contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings

Nostalgia

Nomadic memories
nurtured in mind's eye as
necrotic curtains part.
Naive sanguine beliefs
nourish scrutiny 'til
novelty rendered moot.
Nirvana was falsehood.

----------------------

(C) John C Michaels, 30th April 2017

For the "Pleiades N" contest sponsored by Kim Merryman.
(3rd Place)

Chiclana De La Frontera

Cool throngs of stars formed one vast arm to sweep 
the coal-black clockface of the sky. To watch it 
was to reel beneath the slow, imperious creep 
of the never-ending circle. One could reach out, 

it seemed, and almost touch the tart cicada song 
which throbbed in soft insistent insect waves 
with formlessness of drizzle, mass of stone. 
But more than these, the patient ancients blazed 

blackness from their gnarled necrotic trunks, 
more ominously sensed than seen, and bled 
into the dark those summer suns they'd drunk, 
as tired as immortality, as dense as death. 

We hope on heartbeats, count on slivers of light, 
but hear within our blood the rhythm of night.

A Part of History

A PART OF HISTORY

Our failures in cities burn-forget-

Our failures haunt us-biting heels

We choked rictus stun their neon

We are awaiting instructions-but-

His masked beings see us but do not touch us

They can not protect us day by day our failures
Frenzied adjusting the struggles to not overdoing

I see no valid interlocutors in our failures
unsustainable and necrotic inside
dolls and stumps but only weak

Crawling and scratching kevlar window separating us from living

The Big Come Up

Sweet Jesus Christ came to me in a dream, He crept up through the carpet. Ripping through the seams. Offering me that warm tranquil salvation within his flesh, a promise of cleansing of all my transgressions. To feed deep the nectar of Lord and to deny the Serpent and sword. I repent brothers and sisters I do. I have seen the necrotic face of my father. I have been bathed in the cold, viscosity that is blood of lamb. The ghost of a zombie is my savior!! Thanks for all your prayers my dear dear friends.

She's Dead

The succubus bleeds in the shadows of woe, I feel nothing as your eyes glaze over. Haunted you linger with a necrotic glow. I feel nothing as your flesh begins to harden. Hush child, tis time to be silent as infinity embraces you deep. Go fourth the abyss and wander the coils of fathomless oceans of sleep…

Owl S Moon

The anti necrotic energy is reality
It is also immortality
Many forces past it form majesty
In which combined mesmerizing power of soul will be

The soul grows by quanta of vortex and powers of Gods
For it to grow to theory of everything are good odds
Leading to blue heavenly sods
Countenance of thousand facades 

The moon is extremely   eerie tonight
Not surprising for in the shadows of its light
The great grey owl takes flight
This is not just an owl but an awesome sight

Its eyes deep as beyond existing all
And that beyond all being just imaginary numbers dust in Saturn soul
 For those who don’t know it is deeper then into black hole
Deeper then essence of very soul

Cobra

Twelve headed cobra comes from the sea
It is the true master of its destiny
He bears the gift of immortality
Master of time in all its majesty

The counter necrotic force from vortex spews
The soul its nirvana in it will choose
The eye deep like abyss its surroundings views
With surreal flavor the air cobra’s presence imbues

The poison fangs ready to defend
By the divine cobra is send
Yet with the surroundings it can blend
With cobras presence Gods’ heart is contend

Revenant

Revenant does not eat human flesh
As he was portrayed in epic of Gilgamesh 
His body however will always stay fresh
He can’t be stopped by a wire in which he would enmesh

The harvest moon is eerie red
But when I look upon it I’m not sad
It sings the ballad of revenant the undead
And even though his awe inspiring visage can cause dread

He is marvel to see
Necrotic plus neural energy of unearthly
Negative resistance to knowledge is his majesty
With by just the base of idea being spawned reality

Perhaps the most deep question of all
Does revenant have a soul?
Perhaps more profoundly then human he has a soul
Eerie red moon shines on the path it will take past winnowing hall

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