#graveyards
My words dig deep
And do they strike true.
My tongue is a weapon,
I don't always use
It can harm and main
Deeper than any physical wound.
My words can heal, harm...
Or haunt you.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 9:20 PM UTC
I’m all out of midnight phone calls and wilted rose petals.
I’m all out of throwing out letters out of windows and building cathedrals of sand.
I’m all out of the avalanche of goosebumps your touch caused.
I yearn stillness now.
I yearn indifference.
I yearn to keep my head above the water now.
And so, your eyes are graveyards and I bury all words unsaid.
May 17, 2020
May 17, 2020 at 1:14 AM UTC
Graveyards
Graveyards, scary
at night, scary at day,
Takes your breath away.
a dark and gloomy place,
where people hold their breath,
if they don't the dead creep
up on them, and they're gone
scary at night, scary at day, takes
your breath away.
to visit friends and family,
plant flowers and basely
Leafs, for they give them good
Luck.
scary at night, scary at day, takes
your breath away.
to say hello, or bid farewell,
To say good morning, or goodnight.
the dead, yes there scary and hidden,
but they have untold stories, and legacies,
For they're the forgotten of many.
a dark and gloomy place,
bid your farewells, watch out
you could be next, as the graveyard
Whispers in the wind, you leave,
Graveyards.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 9:09 AM UTC
The breaths not taken are accumulating.
It mixes with the tears not shed.
Creates a poison that lingers in my thought
but doesn’t flow into my blood.
To keep my barely alive to suffer.
Suffer from a poison of my own making.
Slowly I forget
one small detail at a time.
I realize it only when I see this gap in memory
that my frail imagination fails to fill.
Words are slipping out of my hands.
My thoughts are no longer mine.
All the parks have become graveyards.
Where tomorrow died a slow, slow death.
And it slips into an even slower decay.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 3:59 AM UTC
Our corner graveyard
Looks so inviting,
The lawns are cut,
There's solar lighting.
A wrought-iron gate
Is freshly painted,
Shade trees shelter
Graves of the innocent.
The Italians built a mausoleum,
Where pictures of their deceased greet them,
Looking full of vim and joy
At having pictures taken.
Beneath the temples, in the crypts,
Celtic crosses and brass plaques,
Olympians and outcasts,
All professions, our world's best,
Lie wasting just like us,
In their oak, brass-handled coffins.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
I feel most alive
Walking and gawking
In a graveyard.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
Talking daisies,
feeding grass,
and marble monuments
to the past.
Blackbird serenades,
painted bones,
the fox is screaming
a lovers moan.
The moon is rising,
waiting stars impatient,
***** crickets
their song so blatant.
The mud is cooling
as the breeze caresses.
Breath is fleeting
and darkness possesses.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
I found you in moon-lit courtyards
amongst whispering statues of angels
& broken queer bottles
punk wind roaring in time's freefall
& Tagesspiegel newspapers
read in grave graveyards
the Plötzensee
now a pleasant place
to walk by
past the carefree
nudist sunbathers
in blissful summer
the Olympiastadion
almost forgetting
who it's maker was
but no not quite
nevertheless, good days
far out-weighing the bad
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
In marble, like moon; encased and cold,
I linger where you sleep. Long shed of decadent
purulence, your pale caress holds me still,
and I dream of your bones atop my
bones; our veins dying of thirst; the
worms making love to our oblivious corpses.
In amour, like rose; blackened in rust,
I shiver where we kiss.
Our lust becomes the dirt; our soiled souls moan.
We’ve become immortal inside the wood-rot.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
The drooping sun stood across the wooden bow,
showering it with drowsy thoughts for the wooden boy
In the abandoned graveyards where pavements were abolished
Plaid plague nourished the jingling broken eyes
The graveyards of dreams and graveyards of clocks
Will deliver the nails of sorority locks
To cradle the soft heat of the drenched sun
To bring on temptation of demolition’s sons
Let’s say that the pavements of hopes were of pain and vain
The vines were vanity and the roots were dignity
If agony keeps us close to our core,
then drench pins on my head to keep me human
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 5:31 AM UTC
The stones of lambs – and folded hands
grass as green as Seafoam
summer sky – this place we lie
The flowers grow as brushes
to paint our fates
- in heartbeats
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
*I followed you over arbitrary timbers
Crossing rushing torrents
For intense love
Secret nights
And permanent kisses
Riotous sunset smothered mountains
In fields of wrought iron autumn
Meandering monument moss covered lichens
And beautifully broken stones
Our names are carved in promise
Clasped hands spun gold
Close to you is moments of peace
Heartbeats unforgotten
Moments
Every breath adored
Past a worn marker of this
World so dark until resurrection
Dark dispersed
By the only light I know
Blue orbs extinguished constellations
Tell me your secrets
They are our secrets
Your stories
Are our stories*
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC