Short Catacombs Poems

The Saints, in crypts and catacombs graced halos still aglow...

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Pillars of red earth,
Layered by legions of ants;
Winding catacombs....

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catacombs of fear
     lost in my own illusion 
          a downward spiral
...

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crows caw, 
    cloaking catacombs~ 
      beneath cataclysmic clouds.
...

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Melted butter
Missed crumbs of toast 
Blue-ribbon cooking 
In dishwasher catacombs
Remnants of delicious memories...

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The cadaver of an emperor
Lying in wait at the bottom of the catacombs
He is halcyonily waiting
Not for bandits but for Life...

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Thinking between the shutters of thoughts
into the aphotic abyss of the soul

Deep within the catacombs 
Grows a world of memories and dreams...

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As winter
yields to spring
seeds wrinkled in time
join dormant flower bulbs
seeking sheltering dwellings
in purgatory catacombs of earth
and await the labor of nature’s rebirth....

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Incarcerated soul in ribcage of slaughtered  fate
Obsessive saw penetrates secret catacombs of meltdowns
Poetic seascape showing radiations of a human skull -
A cranial Kabuki Mask spreads uncertainty over the Pacific......

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you put your silks and satins 
in me, a darkened abattoir
I see your pain, a summer crisis
staring sometimes for minutes
it's a love hate relationship
it's a love hate hall of mirrors
lost in dirty bone catacombs
I wait for your return...

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Wind weathered dream severed
eyes hollow stare blankly out
rough seas washed away hopes
hardened hearts die
fragile souls cry
hastily built walls
stones tumble 
broken in a blackened sky
masses filter the catacombs
steeple's raise notice
dropping down suddenly...

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Conscience is a mirror
If you disobey it
If you abuse it
If you overload it
If you ignore it
If you torture it
If you cheat it
If you lie to it
if you intoxicate it
You’ll float off-shore of life
And perish like deep water fish
Alone or with the world
You’ll go to catacombs...

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The consumate sleuth Sherlock Holmes
Hardly lacking the wit chromosomes
With the faintest of clues
To bemuse and confuse
Cracked crimes in the Welsh catacombs



AP: Honorable Mention 2023

Submitted on January 27, 2019 for contest LIMERICK 3 sponsored by JOSEPH MAY  -  RANKED 2ND...

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Being like the cold,
and restless deep blue sea, yet 
inside, beneath the 

waves I buried my 
fire down in the garnet 
red catacombs of 

forgotten sea gods,  
waiting for the flickering
emotions; these wan, 

walking shadows to 
come alive and thus let that 
volcano erupt at last....

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There exists no place
   Outside the Lord's grip -
From the outposts of space
   To the eclipse of a pit -
He's never far away

And even more so -
   He's on the war field
In the foxholes -
   In the nursing ward
And in the catacombs.

Where else should He be
   But with the wounded
In body and spirit, prithee?
   As two are wed -
Jesus - be ever with me....

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Eerie voices underground
strangely invite 
yet they are nowhere to be found.
Broken bones, broken souls
Lamenting memories
Lost in the catacombs.
Dark elegies written on walls,
Unheard songs that were never recalled
The hymn of unfortunate souls.
The truth will likely be hidden
in the dark alleys where questions remain unanswered
Now, Then...Forever

LeiStrauss2020...

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FANTASY

I dreamt of magic, crystals and potions
Millions upon millions upon millions of minions
Plenty of artifacts, many creations
Dungeons and dragons, abyss, oblivion
All those catacombs, they call civilization
No nations, just rations, epics and sermons
Gods and demons that live on donations
Horses, bards and whores and all them corpses
Sticky fingers up their @$$3$...

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TO A FORGOTTEN SUICIDE NOTE...

On the gallows o time my soul
     Hung in despair.
Faith released its terrible swift sword;
     Least my thoughts forgot.

Least my thoughts forgot the footprints 
     You walked
To be free of the mystified feelings locked
     In catacombs of dreams
Stroking spiraling smoke to blurred visions
     Gone stale like yesterday's day.

Time passes and grief remains dissatisfied....

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not through the tongue and its wind-spray
or the booming chest
but through broken wings
whispers of ruined things
crushed
into a wordless tongue

here is a sparrow corpse
this is his poetry
catacombs of grubs
a wing bent stiffly up
the other
pounded into utterance
spirit riddled by flesh
blown through
a blare of broken lungs
not salted
on the suds of speech

but in the ruined breath
of a shattered prayer...

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The truth
has to buried
down here somewhere.

I enter cannily
prepared for
a long slow journey.

The light of my candle
flickers as if 
it can fail.

It is through
the basement of my old house
that it opens.

Sub-floors and
catacombs never explored
behind a door of wooden slats I could nearly remember,

as if the truth
were hidden in the realm 
of devils.

I walk in alone
peering at the cells of my brain
amazed at how huge I am....

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not through the tongue and its wind-spray
or the booming chest

but a soul moved by broken wings,
the whispers of ruined things
crushed by a cosmic tongue

here is a sparrow corpse
this is his poetry
catacombs of grubs
a wing bent stiffly up
the other
pounded into utterance

Rumi's spirit is riddled by flesh
it is blown through
the blare of broken lungs
not salted
on the suds of pious speech

but in the ruined breath
of sky shattering prayers...

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Below indigenous herds of species’
Soft stampeded tramplings,
Profound caves water rivers underground.

Roots grow their nether forests
Down to a shadow fathom depth of earth.
Tendrils leaf out only tuber leaves of dirt.

Flooded backs of charcoal catacombs
Snake like water moccasins through
Aquifers to rise disguised as springs and wells.

Here there is a bargeman who 
For pennies holding eyelids down
Will help you to forget

Vaguely chambered 
Urges of the heart....

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