Short Crypts Poems

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

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Soaked up to her hips
Searching for her Prince in crypts
Pond slime on her lips



By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX...

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This breath of
our sorrow will lie
in locked crypts
with lost keys.
The next breath with fresher air-
a new beginning 


Shardoma

January 4, 2016
Contest: New Beginnings
Sponsor: Kim Merryman...

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Write a scary poem about Halloween?
Weirdest ode you've ever seen!
What is seen at Halloween?
Blood sucking Salem zombies,
TV addict Abercrombies,
Spiders and maggots in their hair,
 Crypts in the garbage tip over there,
Witches floating round my room,
Fit right in, as they zooooooom......
Hey, my other car is a broom!!!!!...

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Hilltop tomb
Old crypts ruin
Grave robbers den
Home of unforgiving 
Cracked wall
Mortuary 
Side disturbed
Unnecessary
Mother and child
Sleep till the end
And when you dig
The sleep you kill
The dream you steal
Someday will
Saturate your dreams
Haunted by lost screams
Torturous beings
Rabid things
The hole that you dug
Came out through your soul...

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Black Squirrels.....
Leave no shadow
Heads bowed in solemn faith
Cars weaving between stations of the
Cross; and old spanish tiled crypts
A glimpse, then another the casket lowered
The air, acrid with stinging ash of burnt metal; flesh
Fused with memories lost                           
                                      



© All Rights Reserved
09/25/13...

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When I kissed you
In an arid waste of that cheek
The  tangle of your hair did dissect 
Indulged in making a tale brief
Of some sombre trivial demise
Of hope forlorn or of rainy nights
And the communication between two hearts
Flowered perhaps in meadows of grass
Sweet whispers stopped not
A song of soul on warm lips
Neither charm away nor stop now
The wonder of love in mind’s crypts....

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Droplets bled stained a star-spangled banner
Eagles clutch arrows guarding a nation’s manner
Marble marks the crypts of heroes 
Orchards of Polycor Georgia marble honor their grassy graveyard
Citizens soldiers bled for the freedom and justice they guard
Rainbows span a nation’s expanse 
Anchors of steel fuse resolve to et al 
Cementing an Augustan wall
Yankee Doodle marching precedes liberty’s parade...

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Crow lines wrinkle the sky.
Bare trees pole dance with a naked wind.
A clattering rain washes winter's watery eye's.

A man walks with himself.
His great coat belted tight,
a frozen bonnet of thorns
upon his chilled head.

Only the empty graves of yesteryears
can see him.
Only tombs and crypts
may greet him.

Only the long lost, long forgot
may follow,
as they walk within themselves
one step behind....

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Cobwebs cover the window sills
And dust chokes the doors
All is quiet, air stagnant as camera stills
Take heed, steer clear of these shores

On dark nights they shine the beacon
Sound the horn to signal danger
Tarry not, your resolve shall weaken
For its they you should fear, stranger

Dread not the sunken pirate ships
But here’s no safe harbor to dock
The night crew, the Graveyard Crypts
Man the lighthouse on this rock”...

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Autumn expires In its own fires
simmering the fallen with flaring tints.
Leaves crepitate and crackle
skived to crisp skins.
Hedgerows turn to vacant
crypts, twigs to wooden teeth. 
Arboreal embers swirl
between barelegged winds.
The groundhogs have forsaken 
dawns scant larders
they seek deeper shelters
where moss-beds lay unseared
by smoldering remnants.
Halloween will be late this year,
the dead are still dying....

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Dirty scowling crone
Old as the wind
Tear-stained cheeks
Sadness of knowing

Shuffling quietly
Through twisted shadows
She is darker than night
Darker than you

Stony chill of her breath
Whistling across 
Withered yellow lips
The foulest of crypts

Hating eyes
Hating you
Earthen pits of decay
Windows to oblivion

Embracing you…
Twitching, dying bats
Scurrying, gnawing rats
Screaming, slicing cats

Don’t look
Don’t watch
Don’t see
Don’t know

Ever...

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Cemeteries as themes
    Certainty of  s a d  words
Crypts, tombs and vaults for sure
  Creaking gates  s q u e a k  and groan
Captive of the long dead
      Caressing ghosts that love
C O M E  into my abyss . . . 

_____________________
August 23, 2016


Poetry/Pleisades/Verse/Composing
Copyright Protected, ID 16- 822-565-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Written for the contest, Pleisades C
sponsor, Kim Merryman

Fifth Place...

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Once on Cecil Place
fledgling flagstones freckled
like summer faces
in Septembers of taut cypress.
Now neglected planters are urns
for my young ashes,
crypts gaping silent screams.
Blistered doors do not divulge 
past secrets,
gravure images are gravel 
on a eroding drives.
Fissured streets
are cracked mirrors
reflecting shards of selves.
Time is a slumlord 
its seconds a legion
of termites.
I'm a pillar of salt;
I should not have looked. 

6/1/17...

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I've seen anger
and power
morph into hate.
And nations crumble
under siege,
when religious zealots
free the beast within.
And the blood flows red,
as Death demands an
exorbitant toll
for the fallen soul's
passage into heaven. 
The very wealthy
build their dynasties
by grinding the bones
of naive idealist
and the pious,
into the mortar 
for their monuments 
and crypts of stone.
The apocalypse,
a Martyr’s dream, 
or reality’s
nightmare?...

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Is that a sphinx we see on Mars
      Resembling the one in Egypt
Just how were the pyramids built
     And pharaohs placed in lavish crypts

When Mars’ oceans began to dry
     Did species seek preservation
Did ancient astronauts arrive
     To colonize a new nation

To date, the complex construction
     Of Egypt’s tombs sparks speculation
Are Martians in man’s family tree
     Hanging limbs, green blood relations


* For the "Sphinx Head on Mars?" contest...

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Ashes of humanity
Scattered and lingered in hearts of purity
Hallowed and spirited within the psyche of infinity

Weaving with man's joy and sorrows
Entwined with lattices of honey yellows
Drifting in clouds of human form
Numeric and linguistic crypts of cuneiform
Endearing are thoughts and words, not jive
Sprinkled ashes etched on books of archive
Doors that opened to human interest
All come alive in ashes, blots and dearest
Your ash is the strength, honor of the fittest...

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