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[Crime-scene. Time ceases to exist for YOU,
the necrophile. YOU are on top of the corpse.]

YOU:
Cadaver, corpse, a body's just a body
and yes, I'm guilty, sleeping with the dead
it loves me, then it doesn't love me.
                                                             ­ [Beat]

The rosary you must! To rest in peace, so
transfigure me baby while warm on my bed.
Cadaver, corpse, a body's still a body.

Indulge me; martyr to your livid beads
please intercede for me, oh, please I beg
for it loves me, then it doesn't love me.
                                                             ­ [Beat]

Now shall I exorcise you; set you free, from
the purgatory found between my legs?
My body, yours a corpse, but still a body,


And when your sinews loosen, skin erased
by time who shows no mercy for the dead,
will you still love me then, or won't you?
                                                            ­  [Beat]

To resurrect is daunting, but you shall have
the body that my kiss declares undead.
Cadaver, corpse, a body's just a body,
which loves me, 'til it doesn't love me.
                                                             ­ [Exeunt]
J. Walter Braman Feb 2010
The shovel hits the dirt in softened thunks

I hope you come up whole, and not in chunks

You’re buried deep, at six feet down

Was she buried in jeans or in a gown?

I hope to be your Romeo from a thousand romance plays

Nevermind, I think you know what dead girls can’t say

Nilsen gave me some sage advice

Don’t ever go to the same yard twice

And don’t toss the old ones in the sink

That’s one good way to get tossed in the clink

Six feet of dirt now to my side

You’re coming with me, you’re taking a ride

You thought the hearse was the last of your life

Don’t be daft, honey, you’ll soon be my wife!

Your coffin smells, my dear it’s true

It is no matter, I love your blue

Skin, your thinning hair

Into your fading eyes I stare

As I caress

That cold dead spot

Beneath your dress

I hope, my dear, you don’t mind the trunk

My head is swimming; am I in love or just drunk?

Oh, if you look upon my trunk with dread

Would help to think of it as a marital bed?

Maybe some wine to get in the mood, with you by side

Just the moonlight a pint of the Wild I

I know some look upon me strange

And some would call my love deranged

They don’t understand, they’re far too ******

This isn’t a curse, just a hobby

If they saw me like this I know they’d panic

But I’m not crazed, on drugs or manic

I feel peace when I see your lipless smile

I know I’m just a harmless necrophile.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
My dear damsel of glaciers and scuttling roaches

In Andean splendor you startle my heart.

Still seeking a summit, your coldness reproaches;

So little I know you – in whole or in part.

Now that winter recedes as the springtime encroaches

Envision a greening of sorcery’s art.

Lighten up, dark enchantress of icy approaches;

I hope and I pray global warming may start…

Does another bad sonnet addressed to her highness

Allow for a thaw to begin in her soul?

Get over your winter of taciturn shyness!

Or is frozen entombment your element, witch?

This old necrophile waits for a smile (or a twitch).

Hell, I’d marry your corpse – but mere friendship’s my goal.
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/mine/nelida/
Courtney O Nov 2018
There is pain further than pain. There is a mechanical pain, a pain that hurts not hurting at all, making you go along life but missing something deep.

There is a beatless pain. There is a pain grabbing you by the throat. But silently, so you can't yell.
There is a pain not too big, it never fully seizes, but it is there.
Constant turning of the ***** that won't make you cry, but they do oppress. Obsess. Obsess. Obsess. They oppress like few things more. You cried in pain, and you discover now there are worst realities than pain: the cryless anguish, the wordless complaint, the oblivion of loss. Will you come out of this?
Most important of it all: who will come? Will you come out alive?

And the ghosts of the past, alive tonight
Me, looking at daddy's ***
Me, thinking I am a necrophile
Me, swooning over Gaspard Ulliel
Me, being free
Me, signing my death
Me, in your bed -happy like I had never been-
Me, lost in the dark convoluted corridors
Me, about to break in parts
Me, 14 in the car, daddy is telling me that if I go madder he'll get mad in turn
Me, going psychotic
Me, atonement by the flesh
And nothing could be worst than this
the past all over me
No way to flee...
Penne  Jan 2021
A DEBUTANTE DREAM
Penne Jan 2021
I know what I want
Give me the nostalgic vibe
Filter me with finest nineties
Dress me up with antisocial silk
I'm not sad but I'm incomprehensible
No, no inside jokes
Literal does not translate well in fictional
So it's fine if I told you we're all

Oh, indieee pendant , you won't see if I try so hard or dont at all
Respect me respect me respect me
I hold to a label but I might cry if they drop me
Turn up the B-side for breakup lovers
Don't blast the volume for the back seaters
They deserved not to be preachers
Don't patronise with patriots excessively
Indieee pendant; don't fool me
Sometimes I am the celebrity even I hate the vanity
Yet can I escape society?
I would rather think and think
Than die
Than lie
Than love
Shoes taste like Montgomery's sansrival
I feel heaven than knowing Gah ah ah
Joke of the evening!
Funny to offend a ventriloquist inside a Polaroid shot in a necrophile's journal
Observe your references
You said no more walls, why more fences?
Whose fetish it is to hear breaths on mics?  
Pop more ankles, my grace!
Life, I won't shut my mouth about it
Even though I'm only in my forties
But you're such an ending to the latest, boy-becomes-scary girl film

So I won't stop
Even this is all they shop
Max out the curtains and stray, moth patterns

Am I always the right one?
Since I can parody everyone?

Am I always the right one?
I can parody everyone

Oh, for attires just crop tops and some coral-shaped hats
Being serenaded in a toddler's treehouse much?

Hospitalize me
My heart: is it red or blue?
Is it?
All I say is just an excuse
I am nothing but a recluse
But why did you keep opening the shoot
Since honesty is not your Majesty
What am I supposed to do then?
No, I'm not gonna listen

Get out! Get out! I don't like you!
Take the goodies they're 100% organic
Sugar is an illusion, so nothing is not good for you!

I just want a spot
Even if it flails!
I just wanna wear those shades of velvet and 2050

Memorise this and I will bash you back

And the winner is

Eugh ahem ahem

Cor---

— The End —