Short Necropolis Poems

Inconceivable
Dark, Dark, far from sun
Dead souls rose, silence................

A new world has begun...............

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Susan’s pale fingers—
                                        breathless in necropolis














(C) rajat kanti chakrabarty...

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Quiet is the night, laid blight amid this infernal necropolis
Loosely mantled soil, smother marrow of perished veneration
Yet windows still aflame, a dormant witness to troth thirst
Cold and stiff, until a shift, unearthed...

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Long arms of tender compassion
Oneness of embittered Humanity
Visceral faith was your salvation
Encompassing all vain materialism
Lenitive of the corporal punishment 
Illuminating a hope encrypted in a
Necropolis of suppressed ideas 
Extruding life from deep darkness  
Seeping rain from saturated soil
Sedative of every entombed soul...

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Bryant’s Necropolis Conceit
 
Silent halls of death so cometh
William Cullen Bryant
Thanatopsis supremeus now
A sepulchre awaits us all.

Dour darkness and shroud forever
Thanatopsis-Phantasmus
The spirit world so beckons us
We all shall so wither and fall.

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
(January 15, 2015) (Double Dactyl)...

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Naive, I just wander-
      nameless voices  c a l l i n g,
  Nebulous vague faces,
         need  c r y i n g  out for me . . . 
Necropolis of TOMBS-
     netherworld abyss  . . .  pearl
            necklace ripped from my neck.

___________________
April 29, 2017
Pleiades/Nightmare
Copyright Protected, ID 896456


Pleiades N
Kim Merryman

First Place...

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Leaving the reality behind;
the bounds of gravity
life itself became just an after-life;
a netherworld of existence,
a spirit world of flesh,
a wasteland of bones, 
an ossuary of dreams,
a necropolis of emotions.
For my soul yearns for you,
who live among the clouds,
high above the ribbons of sunlight.
For you, my love 
I would choose to leave;
to exile from this verisimilitude....

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Walk, walk in a cemetery. Old and imposing necropolis. In Hackney.
Poe lived here, in this amazing main district.
Walk, walk. Silent...
You don't hear the voices of the dead, no, never
They tell you to wait, stop, don't go any further.
Listen to us, you are with us, but carry on the news of our past.
On and on, because we also lived here, and we are making our future generation live on.

Live on...

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This is the era of echoes—
Echoes inside my hollow soul.

This is the time of broken hearts
And lost minds. 

This could be a golden world—
Yet instead we are all grey. 

A sign of the times—a war within our
Struggling hearts that pump crimson
Blood which shall ooze and trickle from
Our weary eyes. 

You’ve left me alone in this necropolis—
And deep within my sepulcher my corpse
Strains to call out your name....

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Insidious pharaohs reigning death abound the kingdom, a sinister smile resonates 
of bloodlust. Commanding voraciously the tyrants consume human life, an endless 
cycle of severed souls. Utopian preaching of a destined era stagnates over this 
desolate desert. Blood Rivers converge with the Nile, an inceptual validity embraced 
in flesh. Severed limbs suspended from within the leviathan necropolis exude blood; 
such is the decor of the pharaoh...

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Now springtime going on of the wrinkled forehead
Has been rubbed out the lucky lines of scientific vest
Soaring eagles flying away high and falcons eyes in dirge chorus
Drowning the risen sun in the sprouting hungry necropolis

No rainy tears in the warmest weather cheering to sun
Dancing waists waiving in the salty foods of eyes
Embroidered feathers of peacocks in ravens wings
White crows in the shrouds of wayward trapped earth

12.05.2020 (Chattogram City)...

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April rains over my body
like a dripping faucet at night
it forms a cold rind around my eyes
and fills a borrowed
dinner jacket
             like the double-chin of a
fat, sweaty lecherJohn.

this body's swollen and
the earth turns to sea
around me.

Rosewood; Oak; pine-slabbed flotilla
bobbing downstream
downup, down, up
like the sun-baked summer child
on a sun-hot trampoline:

a diver coming up for air.
We follow the bends in a
slow, unyielding procession...

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I was once in gaze,
my swaddling robes
were saffron fibers 
and interlaced
my skin


a nebula


driftless
I pulsed,
and every eve
was a glimmer


circling a necropolis 
of double-stars
alone,
apart from the mosaic
finally,galaxies away


I fell from the firmament
my trajectory
earth


swathed now in mantles of dirt
moss grows between my toes


I pulse with life again
while the colour’s 
of being earthbound
bind me,
my skin interlaced again


in Technicolor...

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