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I walked in the catacombs, dusty and webbed. Medieval, a relic of culture that ebbed. I stumbled across these sepulchers in line like soldiers that fell on their frangible spine. Among these stone coffins, a statue stood tall. Some cracks on its elbows, still chained to the wall. The fetters, they rusted on ankle and wrist. The centuries wrapped it in mildew and mist. I stared in its eyelids, they're shut in for good. This sculpture, it creaked; and transfixed I just stood. It opened its eyes, they were hollow, unfilled; it groaned through the chamber so scratchy and chilled. It mumbled in language that only the stones can fathom the whispers on top of these bones. Repeating its words in the voice of a mime, this figurine's words became clearer with time. Its jaw split to pieces, its breath reeked of clay. I gasped, for its voice almost chased me away. I leaned in to listen, I stared at its face: "Get out! I beseech thee, get out of this place!" More eager than scared of exploring this room, I asked this old carving that's guarding this tomb, "These caskets are chained as you are by their side, I'm curious Sir, 'bout the secrets you hide!" "Get out! I beseech thee, get out while you can!" This statue insisted, but I had a plan. "I ask you to speak of the treasures you guard, why drive me away from this funeral yard?" The statue just crackled and stared at the crypt, its wrist pulled the chain and some fluid had dripped. Its marble exterior softened to skin. "I'm not keeping you out, I was keeping them in!" The stench of cadavers and dust at the time grew stronger with tremors that roared through the grime. I heard all the souls in these coffins, these moans that echoed so loud in this city of bones. "This tomb smells your flesh!", cried the statue in dread, "It needs one alive to watch over the dead or else, they will rise and the living replace!" It shattered itself into shards in that space. A hand grabbed my leg from the quivering ground and fastened my limbs 'til my ankles were bound. My skin turned to marble; my veins, they have burned The corpses, now hushed, to the rut they returned. Now paralyzed slowly from toe to the neck, my face is benumbed as I stay in this wreck. So morbid this fate, as my movement has ebbed. I stand in the catacombs, dusty and webbed.
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Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
The Watcher of the Catacombs
I walked in the catacombs, dusty and webbed. Medieval, a relic of culture that ebbed. I stumbled across these sepulchers in line like soldiers that fell on their frangible spine. Among these stone coffins, a statue stood tall. Some cracks on its elbows, still chained to the wall. The fetters, they rusted on ankle and wrist. The centuries wrapped it in mildew and mist. I stared in its eyelids, they're shut in for good. This sculpture, it creaked; and transfixed I just stood. It opened its eyes, they were hollow, unfilled; it groaned through the chamber so scratchy and chilled. It mumbled in language that only the stones can fathom the whispers on top of these bones. Repeating its words in the voice of a mime, this figurine's words became clearer with time. Its jaw split to pieces, its breath reeked of clay. I gasped, for its voice almost chased me away. I leaned in to listen, I stared at its face: "Get out! I beseech thee, get out of this place!" More eager than scared of exploring this room, I asked this old carving that's guarding this tomb, "These caskets are chained as you are by their side, I'm curious Sir, 'bout the secrets you hide!" "Get out! I beseech thee, get out while you can!" This statue insisted, but I had a plan. "I ask you to speak of the treasures you guard, why drive me away from this funeral yard?" The statue just crackled and stared at the crypt, its wrist pulled the chain and some fluid had dripped. Its marble exterior softened to skin. "I'm not keeping you out, I was keeping them in!" The stench of cadavers and dust at the time grew stronger with tremors that roared through the grime. I heard all the souls in these coffins, these moans that echoed so loud in this city of bones. "This tomb smells your flesh!", cried the statue in dread, "It needs one alive to watch over the dead or else, they will rise and the living replace!" It shattered itself into shards in that space. A hand grabbed my leg from the quivering ground and fastened my limbs 'til my ankles were bound. My skin turned to marble; my veins, they have burned The corpses, now hushed, to the rut they returned. Now paralyzed slowly from toe to the neck, my face is benumbed as I stay in this wreck. So morbid this fate, as my movement has ebbed. I stand in the catacombs, dusty and webbed.
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How bad could this dog’s bite be, thought the courier As he rang the door’s bell, stood at the barrier The mosaic is pixelated, I won’t know Frenzied mutt or skittish stray, ’til we’re toe to toe Our trade sometimes takes courage, above and beyond That’s why we’re called male men, so all can correspond Canine fiends is what I say, not this man’s best friend Eager to tear my tunic and feast on rear end Time to find out whether Pompeii’s poet is pompous No horrendous hound in sight, still best be cautious On the second ring promptly the master himself Cracks the door, artsy types are eccentric, what else Today is a lucky day, hand over the scroll Save parts of my anatomy my other goal Fear not, my good man, said the poet, alas no dogue A bone from his day’s pound of flesh as epilogue Now in his stead I have only a placid pug The messenger was now relieved and feeling smug He then looked up and thought: I avoided peril Only to see the whole city meet the devil Up goes the volcano, the joke’s on all of us To think that for a dog warning I made a fuss Neither the poet nor the mail man made history Why the pooch is remembered is a mystery
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Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 8:56 AM UTC
Cave canem
So here you are, another year gone I won't ask you what the plan is I remember you telling me years ago "I don't even buy green bananas" It seems like your strategy (such as it is) Has ended up serving you well You've been so many places, done so many things And have so many stories to tell If the idea here is avoid disappointment The plan falls a little bit short No life is perfect, things happen to us (Don't mean to be such a spoilsport) You raised kids through the sixties I needn't say more There's no need I should be specific We got past all that and we all settled down But we still have a flair for dramatic You've done really well, I'm so proud of you Mom Your the best of what this clan is You set the example, I think that I too Won't even buy green bananas rc
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Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 8:56 PM UTC
Green Bananas
Your Humble coats of many colours. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Look alive Poet from whence you started out To survey the unique position you’re in today Perhaps find your plate piled high with doubt A paragon of words abound use as you may Be not beset with vitriolic gremlins plagued Would rather stare into space or time t’say No God given playground, no anyone can play Rewarding Mothers of Invention thru the day.                   ~~ Your Regal coat of many colours. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You are alive and to the Manor born The moment you discovered words n phrases To rhyme and rhythm your lot to thrive upon Your transport vehicle to a thousand places Embroidered each and every line you write Fear not a monument rides out mystic phases Identities hid behind a thousand poet faces Add colour to your verse by embellished traces                   ~~~ Your Royal coat of many colours. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You are alive and to the Kingdom born The experience you hold with floral phrases To offer great critique an ego thrives upon Your golden carriage to a thousand places. Silver threads embroider ever line you write You are a magician now of all mystic phrases You know the secrets hid behind many faces Over polishes a crown worn off ...any traces . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Written by Philip. December 5th 2018.
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Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC
Your coats of many colours.
You-will-not-lie, -bed-chambers-long, For I, -am-coming-to-get, YOU! Clawed-through-the-dirt, -up-the-roots, I am here, -come-to-get, YOU! Followed-tree-roots, -that-sweet-smelling-Earth! Here now! -It's time-to-forget-YOUTH. *HALLOWEEN THIS! HALLOWEEN THAT! HALLOWEEN THIS! HALLOWEEN THAT! HALLOWEEN THIS! HALLOWEEN THAT! Aha Ha Ha Ha,  -The Goblins Attack!!* * *Grab-you-and-cover-those-murmuring-cries. Drag-you-away, I have got, YOU! Hungry-I, watering-mouth-glistening-eyes! Bundle-of-joy, I have got, YOU! Jump-down-tunnel-for-you-are-my-prize. Look-at-you-now, my-sweet-tasty-meat-PIE! *HALLOWEEN THIS! HALLOWEEN THAT! HALLOWEEN THIS! HALLOWEEN THAT! HALLOWEEN THIS! HALLOWEEN THAT! Aha Ha Ha Ha,  -The Goblins Attack!!* Addendum: The name appears to be an amalgamation etymologically of roots from Greek, Sanskrit and Sumerian. If, of course, you choose to translate it that way. I assume Plato to be an authority on the Ancient Greek's tendency to combine the words of multiple mythologies sharing similar characters linguistically. The purpose of the hyphenation is to suggest the tempo and speed of the rhyme's cadence. Kalikantzaroi 'The Demon's of Earth'
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
Kalikantzaroi
The Night Ten to the crescent way,                    and I'm followin' followin' Pieces of, -the night or a day,                  still followin' and followin' On the Line yeah the sailor's say,                   Luna come, followin' followin' And ye-e-eah, ye-e-eah, YEAH! -we're watchin' WATCHIN' -watching every day! The Night Ten to the crescent way,                    and I'm followin' followin' Pieces of, -the night or a day,                  still followin' and followin' On the Line yeah the sailor's say,                   Luna come, followin' followin' AND IT'S A PLACE OUTS-I-I-I-I-DE, HE'S PLAYING; MR. SHADE! The Night Ten to the crescent way,                    and I'm followin' followin' Pieces of, -the night or a day,                  still followin' and followin' On the Line yeah the sailor's say,                   Luna come, followin' followin' * *AND NO ONE CAN PLAY,                   -play like Mr. Shade!* *
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Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
Blues
*There ain't no train to heaven,              ...no miracles, no deal, There ain't no train to heaven,              ...that dream it ain't real.* *Man there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.* Working all these days, and working all these nights. All I do is work, Man that-life-ain't-right! When I was little, they said I'd be rich. Here I am today, digging one more ******* ditch! Breaking back and tough, I'm lost in a bottle... I'm finally getting outta here, hittin' gas; gone full-throttle! *Cause there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.* *Woo- there ain't no train to heaven,              ...no miracles, no deal, There ain't no train to heaven,              ...that dream it ain't real.* *Man there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.* Money is a trap, without it you get stuck. All I do is work, looking for that decent buck. Pocketing a little here, no, not really, just enough. Working harder every day, man this life is rough. Broken down, feeling bad, and I'm lost in a bottle... I'm finally getting outta here, hittin' gas; gone full-throttle! *There ain't no train to heaven,              ...no miracles, no deal, There ain't no train to heaven,              ...that dream it ain't real.* *Man there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.*
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
End of the Line
*There ain't no train to heaven,              ...no miracles, no deal, There ain't no train to heaven,              ...that dream it ain't real.* *Man there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.* Working all these days, and working all these nights. All I do is work, Man that-life-ain't-right! When I was little, they said I'd be rich. Here I am today, digging one more ******* ditch! Breaking back and tough, I'm lost in a bottle... I'm finally getting outta here, hittin' gas; gone full-throttle! *Cause there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.* *Woo- there ain't no train to heaven,              ...no miracles, no deal, There ain't no train to heaven,              ...that dream it ain't real.* *Man there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.* Money is a trap, without it you get stuck. All I do is work, looking for that decent buck. Pocketing a little here, no, not really, just enough. Working harder every day, man this life is rough. Broken down, feeling bad, and I'm lost in a bottle... I'm finally getting outta here, hittin' gas; gone full-throttle! *There ain't no train to heaven,              ...no miracles, no deal, There ain't no train to heaven,              ...that dream it ain't real.* *Man there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven,              ...there ain't no train to heaven, but when I get there I'll be still.*
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