Short Cemetary Poems

november gale
nudging gate ajar
eerie cemetery 



posted on February 11, 2019...

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step... stop... wait... step... stop... 
  slow, achingly slow, we---Sh!
    … frozen deer... staring...

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Silent Stones
Granite and Marble
Testement to our Mortality
Sun gazes brightly, blinded by sonder
Upon memorials to our fatality...

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Pine Trees in the Cemetary


Pine needles shiver in the frigid February air
Sunlight streams through the old tree’s huge arm branches
Casting light onto the frozen ground blanketed in snow...

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Saw Trump In A Cemetary

We just saw Trump in a cemetary
Looking at grave of his cute canary;
With all his followers;
Blooming idiot flowers;
Moved to city declared a sanctuary.

Jim Horn...

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Cemetary That Can Carry

On spirits are only still around
Bodies were buried in the ground;
Of them memories have been made
And to hear some I may be afraid.

Have to finish later.

Jim Horn...

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Twilight settles in
     after the wind drops off
   when the lightning bugs
     flash on and off
   and the crickets
     ratchet up their screeching

   later, still as a cemetary
     ~ dead of the night...

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Cemetary Turned Into

The next thing before we all knew
Cemetery ridge had turned into
Never understood what this meant
There were tombs near a monument
So sad and lonely was silent view.

Jim Horn

Onto next one....

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shivering
on a cold
november morning

we stood there
posing for
a family portrait

hearts heavy
saying our
goodbyes

as we laid
your soul
to rest                      



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Posted on February 15, 2020...

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Dry leaves give back earth upon composting, richness and life to blossoms

Dormant roots covered protected, nurished and nestled beneath the earth

Green crocus blades sprout in a composting dead leaf cemetary; Earth.


A series of monoku......

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You clipped my wings
You cured my flirt
You blinded my sight
From bevy of beauties.

I'm a toy in your palm
Administered unto your wish
And, like powerful Samson
I'm doomed!

Love,
Sweet bait
Covering a naked hook
The cemetary of my life....

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i come to visit
on any occasion
when my heart
gets the call
fall winter spring
 summer most of all
her favorite
i like to string 
the daisies
and hang the garland
sweetly around 
her tombstone



AP: 2nd place 2020

posted on August 6, 2018...

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my book"sin,a memoir"is now available for purchase at wordclay.com in the 
supernatural section.this book lists my time ghosthunting in bosque bello 
cemetary,fernandina,florida.its real,hand written and graphic.buy a copy and say 
you knew me when.makes a great chritmas gift.thanks,to-wit....

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hot summer we stand in the cemetary
I wanted you to wait
until I could be there
wait for me

a lost child is the lost center of your heart

imaginable nighmare
days click by as with any grief with any death
but this one
oh I know
but

a lost child is the lost center of your heart

I'll always be missing...

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When animals find a place to die,
do they look for a place of comfort?
Or perhaps they look for a place
where no one will see them dead.
Maybe they want to be alone
with themselves, to judge their life,
like so many people do.
Maybe they just want to find a quiet place,
where there are no distractions,
especially others crying for them.
Or is it just instinct?...

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hello,i have a book coming out on december 1st or just before barring any 
unforseen catastrophe called"SIN,A MEMIOR",and will beavailable at 
www.wordclay.com/bookstore.its an original write about the hellhole bosque 
bello cemetary in my town fernandina beach,and three ghosts that reside 
there.its a true story and its well written.please consider my book for 
christmas.thank you....

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Just as Jesus watches over you from Heaven, we will watch from here.
You kept us safe and gave your life, a debt we cannot repay.
Go bravely into the afterlife, this you need not fear.
Know that we are so proud of you and for your soul we pray.
God has placed a sentry at your grave, his flight will show the way.




for Carolyn's  "Bald Eagle in the Cemetary" contest
Francine Roberts 08/08/2011...

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Vanilla taste with a hint of fire
  upon my heart's tongue ~ 
as all breezes cool and through.

Mystical mental disorder ||-->
life <--|| my lips sew upon 
my torn heart//the lungs 
worn\\ 
bright blood superficial/
deep dark = death.

In St. Paul's Cemetary
the little people tend 
to the weeds and beetles;
the shallow inscription on
a stone:

ADULTS ARE DEAD CHILDREN

:: 11-06-2017 ::...

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The black ravens’ peer deep into the darkness; 

Bracing upon cold marble and granite stone, 

Beneath the ghostly moon's shadows in starkness. 

Gray as gray, the ravens’ mock upon its groan 

Absence of light and nostalgic clandestine. 

Bleak night and nothing more wreathe the granite shrine.


9/28/2019

Photo #2
Poetry Contest: Make IT Six 
Sponsored by: Joseph May...

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One dozen dead roses
A pocket full of red disposes
Fidelity, fealty their temporal wrapper encloses
Organic ode that nature's bipolar rhythm transposes
Trite requiem to all the brownnoses
A token gift that penurious love exposes 
Gone are the scintillating wax poses
The mirth, pageantry time hoses
Buried in the cemetary with Grandma Moses
Bring back the artificial supposes
To satiate all of the charming virtuosas...

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Listen to poem:

The cemetery was dark, yet full of peace.
I felt the bodies asleep beneath my feet.

I hummed softly a lullabye as I walked by.
My father's favourite, called Turalurali.

I knew he stood beside me as he whispered
"Have no fear", while I shed a tear.

I told him how I missed him, though twenty years
had passed. A love to last.

And the cemetary was beautiful as we parted once again.
Anniversary meeting between two old friends....

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