The screecher of the cemetery:
You fly in between the headstones
And hide away in the bell tower
When the dawn comes.
You know the names of all who are dead—
At night, you call to them softly,
And seek out new arrivals for you to bless.
Out of your own sacrifice, you leave them gifts:
A pine cone or a dandelion or two—
A little something for good luck.
The next day, when you return,
All that will be left will be the seedless stalk
Of the dandelion you gave away.
Categories:
psychopomp, animal, death, grave, life,
Form: Free verse
Threnody dirges miseries
Severance of machinations
The gravedigger’s shovel buries
These coffin crypt lamentations
Lachrymose welts filling levees
Life’s vile xenotransplantations
Psychopomp as a wraith’s whisper
Dust swept away by a zephyr
Categories:
psychopomp, dark,
Form: Ottava rima
Grimoire enchantress beguiles vetala invictus, slicka min kisse, hehe just kidding, just a u’i lata spreading sugar, a sweet gift. A snarl like smile crosses my countenance as I manifest into a deity of quintessential grandiloquence on this edifice, casting thy maestra symphony to be or not to be liminal esoteric Mnemosyne velleity, but in fact a vatic edict on tantalizing your most intimate sultry.
Necromantic kissy kissy muah, to the necrobiotic, rictus lambent lament, melodious songbird choir of sempiternal complexity to make sanguinary fervid incipient lachrymose flooding the streets. Cross this lycanthropic malediction for I ventriolic assanina husks empyrean arcana dismal fates under thy hex with the depths psychopomp Yggdrasil.
Careful where you tread mortal, goddess of the nigh is here, witchess gazes through the fenestral, nocturne saucers glimmer as the siren lures you with serenades and her visage, just an itty bitty bite is how it starts, catch a sweet tooth and it will splay you apart. Velvets bear jagged fangs emptying your chest cavity of your heart, delicate if it’s eaten before it stops.
Categories:
psychopomp, beautiful, beauty, dark, death,
Form: Free verse
Phantoms roam the night with ease,
Their haunting presence makes us freeze.
With silent steps and ghostly grace,
They glide and float through time and space.
Their wispy forms and eerie glow,
Send shivers down our spines, you know.
But fear not, for there's a guide,
A psychopomp to be your side.
A jolly ghost with a wicked grin,
He'll take you safely through the din.
So don't be scared of phantoms here,
With our friend, there's nothing to fear.
Categories:
psychopomp, 9th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Psychopomp led me into afterlife
into the souls' of our forefathers,
into the dire grave, spiritualism,
i saw spirits, deities, the deads;
the beneficient dead of the night.
i laid on the ancestor's cult below
resting returns of darkness of the
ancient historical cult of culture.
i was introduced to the angelic
beings of ritual magic, the spirit
guides of theosophy and mysticism
the aliens of ancestral Ufology, Africanism and the neopagan gods which are the thought of soulsm.
my soul shattered and I found hope.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
Categories:
psychopomp, 8th grade, africa, black
Form: Ballad
the lissom sea lily a testament at your death
feathered petals left in memory
but are you dead, Neptune?
I am no longer reminded of
the pin-spotted watery wedding veil
along the edge
it has now become a frozen blue veil
around a beach ball
hung or strung
in the black nowhere space
can you bounce back from the throw, Neptune?
who threw you, brother of Jupiter and Pluto?
is there another dolphin to find again Salacia in the deep
to see the foaming equine ride
to find the white pin-spot veil of your jouissance
fringed again on the sands
but what dolphin can fly so high
no flutter or stutter or flop
but a high-forced flipping
(have we built one so tough?
Pegasus, your wings and strength ... aaaah
you psychopomp, you Charon,
be mindful of your distinguished exalted bloodlines)
will you come so far?
Categories:
psychopomp, myth, ocean, sky,
Form: Blank verse
What is this fell beast, whose image swarms within my head?
An interloper, psychopomp, who gazes with the dead?
Swarming visions of the dark, Shades advance through Asphodel,
Silently shambling with minds dulled, no more secrets left to tell.
What can we look for in the light of tainted stars?
Looking for enlightened signs of blessed seminars
when there is nothing in this darkened sky to love us.
Gazing at the eternal cold expanse above us
and realizing, once more, with awe and dread,
the insignificance of everything that's bred.
With existential certainty on the long road ashore,
and nihilistic impulses screaming yet for more,
the road we walk can seem an endless nightmare.
but fear not, for fear has died
die gently, having never cried
see the world for what it was
embrace the world for what it is
Time and tide, shifting sands in the hourglass of time
swift approaching that climactic final climb.
Transcendental thoughts disorganize into the void that is eternity
and find peace in the emptiness of our existence.
Categories:
psychopomp, introspection, philosophy,
Form: I do not know?