Short Sepulchral Poems

Sepulchral shadows
Like gargoyles laughing madly
Haunt the painted walls....

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Circulating fear, 
          spiritual retreat, 
           sepulchral silence, 
      manifestations of the soul...

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In life I slept
      worried,
      installment due ...
      mortgages...
      In death, sepulchral sleep ...
       no requirements
       sans scares,
     without collectors `
      at the door...!...

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Peace , peace.
                I desire to live you always
                wonderful sculpture,
                alive...
                I do not have you
               sepulchral monument,
                dead in life ...!...

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Jones, Jones, where are your bones? 
I'd like to hear again your moans, your groans, 
underneath loathed graveyard stones, 
all with weird sepulchral tones, 
me and all my friends, the crones, 
wailing o'er the bones of Jones....

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Death played sombre strains  
Funereal hush holding reins,
Flames heralding gains,

Death felt triumphant,
Life, smiling a smile pregnant, 
Said, death can just dent,

Watch me come again—
Phoenix-like from ruins and pain,
New lease as I gain.
____________________________
 Haiku |41.06.2021|...

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You stood with crossed arms
Pathways
up automatically
like greenhouse gas
rising
up and up
and disembodied voices
marking your progress.

Flashing signs mark the time 
that no-one else seems to feel
Subterranean thoughts
Sepulchral dreams spilled out
long masses of people march expectant
to the mouth of the mall
and herds feed at colourful stalls...

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As my doleful gaze upon thy form hath fallen,
Garbed in the fashion of sadness or mourning,
Nightly tresses thy sombre tone adorning,
Decadent and beauteous, as a Seraph fallen.

A woebegone faerie with wings lost and broken,
Enshrouded in blackness, a sepulchral lady,
With thy pallid skin and thy heart so shady,
Thou art a graveyard angel who seldom has spoken....

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Linden tree branches whisper your name
Cherished by flowers, blessed by the sky,
Carved on a stone. The sepulcher’s flame
Kindles and keeps my memories nigh. 

When your departure day I bemoan,
Endless your absence seems to have been. 
Deep in my heart regret you have sown,
Darker than weeping willows have seen. 

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com...

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I dream my pure death everyday
on the mountain of thirty five years

Zodiac sign tells me nothing
but I'm unstable in my immune suffering

Next Boishakh may be mine
Decorating the flowery palanquin

If I die nothing will happen
Earth is ever living agent as usual

Some tears of sad rainy sky
the drought ground will devour

Seeing weeds on the sepulchral breast
Passerby will be assured- nothing was there

22.07.2020 Chattogram...

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Exposed carbon shell
dead circuitry
our ancestral coronation
strewn on the floor
as pillar candles burn
with iconoclastic blight
we soberly sedate ourselves
before stepping onto
slumber's sepulchral stage
to act out subterranean chimeras
the radiating ecstasy
of being buried alive
and lo, the curtains descend
we are the dead birds
that soar with clipped wings
our cerebral silhouettes
engulfed in a
vulture's disease-ridden bowels
floating alongside scraps of
tarnished lacquer...

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