Undead Poems - Poems about Undead

A zombie, quite slow and quite green, Tried baking a cake, so obscene. The frosting did drip, As his fingers did slip, "This 'recipe's' simply not keen!" ©bfa031925 ...

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Endless steps upon the ashen path, Each footfall echoes in the aftermath. A world of shadows, fire long grown cold, Yet onward you walk, alone but bold. You rise from death, though hollowed inside, A soul once bright now seeks to hide. The weight of curses, the loss of light, Yet still you press on through the endless night. Memories fade, like whispers...

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The nightly rattle heard down the hall, The shadow form of a man stands tall. The sound of chains strike fear to my heart. His chance long past, he cannot depart. Seeking my soul, he desires my fall. His pain, I can feel, for after all, He heeded not Heaven's urgent call, But let his anguished form to impart The forever torture of...

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From soil and filth and death we rose One eve to feast under the moon Lurk in decay with flesh necrose Take caution, you are not immune We are merciless, unceasing From soil and filth and death we rose Time ticks, our hunger increasing Ever more as we decompose Your eyes, your ears, your mouth, your nose No quenching of our appetite From soil...

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Unscaved with Time Never divine Souls come and linger In this theatrical pantomime Temple of the slaves, rise from their Graves Misfits and jesters alike, juggle souls with rotten spikes Temple of the slaves, with guns blazing in the skies A poetic endless war, with the dead at its core Immortally bitten to mass submission The spirit of time is ashamed For thy art is...

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I sob and kneel beside the open grave, relieved that no one's here to see. Recalling all the happiness she gave, I hope her spirit is now free, and sadly wonder what is wrong with me - my friend, my lover and my wife is dead and wickedly, I took her life. She died asleep upon our bed. Why did I stab her with...

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Vampires by Michael R. Burch Vampires are such fragile creatures; we fear the dark, but the light destroys them... sunlight, or a stake, or a cross—such common things. Still, late at night, when the bat-like vampire sings, we heed his voice. Centuries have taught us: in shadows danger lurks for those who stray, and there the vampire bares his yellow fangs and feels the ancient...

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Like Angels, Winged by Michael R. Burch Like angels—winged, shimmering, misunderstood— they flit beyond our understanding being neither evil, nor good. They are as they are... and we are their lovers, their prey; they seek us out when the moon is full and dream of us by day. Their eyes—hypnotic, alluring— trap ours with their strange appeal till like flame-drawn moths we gather... to see, to touch, to...

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Pale Though Her Eyes by Michael R. Burch Pale though her eyes, her lips are scarlet from drinking of blood, this child, this harlot born of the night and her heart, of darkness, evil incarnate to dance so reckless, dreaming of blood, her fangs—white—baring, revealing her lust, and her eyes, pale, staring... Like Angels, Winged by Michael R. Burch Like angels—winged, shimmering, misunderstood— they flit beyond our understanding being neither evil, nor good. They are...

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In a cavern for all the Undead, they examine the hole in her head, when she opens her thighs, maggots drop from her eyes (it's the smell of sardines that they dread...) written 23rd of May for Tania's Bawdy limerick contest...

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To the whiff of an entire horde of the decaying undead, they stink. You can't stand the rots And flops towards reality.. Zombies drool all over everything Imagining a scent so putrid, but can't taste anything. I hear zombies… The groan of the undead, the sound of them dragging their body parts behind them, the spitty hiss they make...

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The undead? One day, a high summer season, I drove my bike along with a narrow track, the led me deep into a landscape that once had been domesticated but now had gone back to nature, I came upon a small clearing ringed by tall umbrella trees leaving the clearing in an ominous half- light where sun glare danced among...

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I have a heart not pumping not feeling It hangs on my chest serving no purpose I want it to hurt but it got nothing Dried all up of life's forgotten repose. I am soaked in decades unprocessed truth Forever trapped in perfect preserved corpse Without preview of underlying roots Of how to this kind of creature I've morphed. I'm undead but I...

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the undead arise slowly lurking around me to prepare moon's feast Halloween Senryu for Laura Loo 10/20/2017...

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Hey my friend, Look over there, yonder through the myrtles, Can you see them? The living dead, Burying the dirt of a million graves, Embalming the streets with their dead screams. Oh please, grace us with a few words. No one in our family ever got buried, Without a scripture reading or a baptizing. Silently they pass by the deceased one, These undead dead. Everyday...

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