Short Cadavers Poems

Nature's gone insane;
Cannibal cadavers creep.
Zombie apocalypse......

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Fossilized cadavers
Unable to be cremated or buried
Refusing to disintegrate into oblivion...

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Pandemics don't come with waivers
Pandemics don't exchange favours
From beginning to end
Whether loved one or friend
Pandemics produce cadavers!...

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She brushed after 
every meal 
scrubbed every 
fruit. 
She had copious 
concerns 
re contamination 
but had a blind spot 
when she ate cadavers 
of animals 
deprived of animation...

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pale rats moving south
                                 an waft of charred cadavers
                                       soldiers drink cider












© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 20 November 2014  haiku/war...

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Its here again
Why though?
Oh how we wonder 

Death is near 
A cupidity for creating cadavers
Oh the sorrow and fear 

Once again 
So many lives 
They meet their end

Terror and horror faced 
Only to get what
With honor they are graced

Dead are stars 
Over foolish things
Comes annoying wars...

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A snaking mouth sloughs two spines;
the rattle of vertebrae.

A woman learns to ride them, feels
the trombone slide of a dragon’s tail.

A man lifts on tip-toe
not wanting to fumble.

They knit lusts to opening prayers,
cadavers to body bags, 
close a gnash of gaping space -

block a cold throat
from an exposed face....

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Gathering storm clouds
                                          A feeling of foreboding 
                                             Alien house soused.
                                     If it rains all through the night
                                    Cadavers swing through rafters.







Fear II - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi...

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they wept  
they crept
 but i cradled death unto its first steps and what i loved has fallen with me 
to weild a blade are to weild this tale i come before my fears 
darker than the sea and the only enmy i see is me
i surrender myself now i can live 
death or life is what i choose to give
sever from fears and mortal tears
as you listen to a dead mans tale...

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Found bloodied and mutilated bodies of 
religious extremist murderers

As cadavers they lie beside 
unshelled bullets and shells

Now lay dead, frozen with souls taken, 
unmoved

Masters,raised them to be butchered,
unspotted

Their kin by birth cursed by the world, 
 immobilized

Death gives them punishment,sufferings,
 impartially

World does not fear them rather they prey 
themselves...

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heart has 
always been 
a great pump
this I learnt 
when I was 
in school
but the 
truth still 
remains 
unknown.

I have seen 
the hearts 
of cadavers
how thick 
and cold 
their flesh 
were
but the 
truth 
remains - my 
heart-throb.

though little 
truths do 
people know 
about heart
yet more and 
more of my 
heart-throb 
I know
but the 
truth is - 
it's more 
than an idol 
to me....

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I Love you deep then runaway
For the slave child may never lay beside the master
Encase our cadavers within one grave!
So that we may live happily ever after 
                                       
   
Thier words pierce sharper than blades.
Branding the letters out on her heart: "NEVER LOVE A SLAVE!" 
 
For the slave child may never love a master
Encase our cadavers in one grave!
That we may live happily ever after...

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If those buried beneath us
could rise today,
would they run to any patch of sunlight,
make snow angels, heap-up snowmen,
stick blackened bones into white bodies?
Would they fashion a bright face
from tooth stumps and icy eye-sockets?
Sadly I imagine that some,
(the frost-jelled and un-melting),
might return to crumbling factories
or defunct offices,
their briefcases or tool boxes
stuffed with snow
to labor over epitaphs....

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My mother says 
I’m a blizzard
She also compared me to 
a volcano
And a tornado

She said my room was like 
a hurricane

And that my closet was 
so messy 
I might have a few 
Cadavers lying around in there

Anyway—the storms? 

I noticed they’re all 
Massive calamities
Uncontrollable forces of nature

They’re destructive
Haunting—
Almost beautiful

I like that idea:
Being dangerous and beautiful
But I don’t know if that’s exactly what she meant....

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I hear the warlocks chanting spells,
And tremble at the sound;
The necromancer starts to spin,
And corpses whirl around.

The naked witches writhe on brooms
As magic potions brew;
Her cackles loud, one blows a kiss,
And tells me, ‘I want you.’

I turn to run, but trip and fall.
Cadavers lick my head;
One worms its tongue into my mouth…
I scream and wake in bed.

I must have fainted with the fright:
A vampire’s in my room tonight.

26th September, for Francine’s Dreams contest...

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