Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"necromantic" poems
Ash to mouth divide north and south east and west, shout  with class of Scout let it out with griffin clout we here we out , hear me out — rhymes in time without silent shrines to mime cleared the crowd covered eyes and mouth over body desert shroud if vengeance is your business then from swords to plow en lakesh an eye for an eye binds the all to be blind but you can’t unsee the signs no thoughts unclouded by loss out the window I toss mosaic fragments that cost health and awesome sauce Nazareth gutted commandments by anarchy spelled disaster after culture massive ego it swell up the road ahead a pit depress the juncture so we spit the dirt divide just to touch the other from pup to wolf so many bites, a pitted puncture so much disfunct the fight till all be winded lungs sir you can run but  from gamma ray you no hide passed a black hole wand inside a body died but it’s alright (it’s heaven sight till Zombie night ) animate dead necromantic black ring the rhythm of life and death a chronic swing the pendulum blade cross over cosmic skin consciousness draw out from within traced the win which wound round tat to skeleton a dusty tome bound and crafted man medicine subtracted by the head that spin in the sky and its happening, blessen-ings the miracle is mystery u cant guess it talking 3 eye see talking vip climb high as canopy walking so my shadow lands under me. ten toes touch to the dusty roads when toads appear throats close mighta had the Midas touch still the golden one was too much to flush you might live in Laos you my livid crowd you might live it now neva hit my limit how cause you live in now when you wake up proud timid mind plowed divid-dine fill the cloud insta crowd wowed this I vowed
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
NȺƶȺɍɇŧħ FɍȺǥmɇnŧs
Ash to mouth divide north and south east and west, shout  with class of Scout let it out with griffin clout we here we out , hear me out — rhymes in time without silent shrines to mime cleared the crowd covered eyes and mouth over body desert shroud if vengeance is your business then from swords to plow en lakesh an eye for an eye binds the all to be blind but you can’t unsee the signs no thoughts unclouded by loss out the window I toss mosaic fragments that cost health and awesome sauce Nazareth gutted commandments by anarchy spelled disaster after culture massive ego it swell up the road ahead a pit depress the juncture so we spit the dirt divide just to touch the other from pup to wolf so many bites, a pitted puncture so much disfunct the fight till all be winded lungs sir you can run but  from gamma ray you no hide passed a black hole wand inside a body died but it’s alright (it’s heaven sight till Zombie night ) animate dead necromantic black ring the rhythm of life and death a chronic swing the pendulum blade cross over cosmic skin consciousness draw out from within traced the win which wound round tat to skeleton a dusty tome bound and crafted man medicine subtracted by the head that spin in the sky and its happening, blessen-ings the miracle is mystery u cant guess it talking 3 eye see talking vip climb high as canopy walking so my shadow lands under me. ten toes touch to the dusty roads when toads appear throats close mighta had the Midas touch still the golden one was too much to flush you might live in Laos you my livid crowd you might live it now neva hit my limit how cause you live in now when you wake up proud timid mind plowed divid-dine fill the cloud insta crowd wowed this I vowed
Continue reading...
68
Willow herb floating on silent certainty ashes of sighs not fleeting, unvapoured on the blossom of the rain, I am too light to pull or push the swing of delight through this land. The rain left me for a while sun unshielding -a thousand widows more unyielding than the depths . . Once shadowed whisperers of delight,gossamer sparkling , descending their chains of necromantic hope. Lilith is no night owl she is mother, eve and my becoming: sweet earth spun at once , exhaling her . The see saw bumped gently on my chin it is a most gentle form of awakening. The silence bore no whispers till sinking through the quicksand -or was it quicksilver? -in any case I could smell little in my amniotic amnesia. I made ten thousand friends,till their soap made this place clean. Is this a seed or a dying hopefulness -is my sallow sowing beyond all shores of reproduction; a reflection of the child they dared not bear? Is my last breath like this a forgotton yielding will they catch me as I fall ? -(sweet earth)- This moth of my ending, a shallow recantation, my fears- their memories, mere testubes of stylish hope . I breathe the elegant stare you have forgotten . Once more free from such rememberance I need not , remained not , your imploded , wakefulness . A thousand pardons exhaled like silk entwining an unfinished race spider of a thousand eyes . One may say I was stared to death but surrogate air mocks childish pity. Taut refelexions bear salt echoes in silk convulsions fresh water a veneered hope . Easier in death than life is a child's sorrowed partings , the illusion of bouyancy rippled tides unfelt. The oceans have not enough salt for such shrunken sorrow. if we could but once have shared unbreathed aspersion . The room has come and gone the pillow quite undry unforgotten unremembered. A web untouched
0
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
Sibilance
Willow herb floating on silent certainty ashes of sighs not fleeting, unvapoured on the blossom of the rain, I am too light to pull or push the swing of delight through this land. The rain left me for a while sun unshielding -a thousand widows more unyielding than the depths . . Once shadowed whisperers of delight,gossamer sparkling , descending their chains of necromantic hope. Lilith is no night owl she is mother, eve and my becoming: sweet earth spun at once , exhaling her . The see saw bumped gently on my chin it is a most gentle form of awakening. The silence bore no whispers till sinking through the quicksand -or was it quicksilver? -in any case I could smell little in my amniotic amnesia. I made ten thousand friends,till their soap made this place clean. Is this a seed or a dying hopefulness -is my sallow sowing beyond all shores of reproduction; a reflection of the child they dared not bear? Is my last breath like this a forgotton yielding will they catch me as I fall ? -(sweet earth)- This moth of my ending, a shallow recantation, my fears- their memories, mere testubes of stylish hope . I breathe the elegant stare you have forgotten . Once more free from such rememberance I need not , remained not , your imploded , wakefulness . A thousand pardons exhaled like silk entwining an unfinished race spider of a thousand eyes . One may say I was stared to death but surrogate air mocks childish pity. Taut refelexions bear salt echoes in silk convulsions fresh water a veneered hope . Easier in death than life is a child's sorrowed partings , the illusion of bouyancy rippled tides unfelt. The oceans have not enough salt for such shrunken sorrow. if we could but once have shared unbreathed aspersion . The room has come and gone the pillow quite undry unforgotten unremembered. A web untouched
Continue reading...
98
Feel the burn of desire scorch your insides Feel the warmth from the spilling of seed My darkness is deep within you Setting out on this campaign of lust, Our bodies tangle, indulging in the pleasure of the flesh Eat me up, swallow me whole, As I fill myself with you We are ouroboros
0
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 10:42 PM UTC
NecRomantic Sadism
Preponderant enchantments written With dawns bereft tears Of a hircine mendicant Upon a necromantic acorn Thirsting times wild-wize monition During a week of sundays Atide sins wake awash Clarities purification. Natures immure debt drawing Maledictions masterpiece, Leys bane web mercifully mirroring Obsidian sibilant eyes Peccably prenouncing the portent Languid whisper inquisitorially; Heavens augumented vestments Distinguishable amid eternities Pensive shade as thuriferous Hallowed tombs loom black As ink, somewhere that was Thought to be void far between The dark hour anchoring the Fractured talisman of loves memoirs. ELEETE J MUIR.
0
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
The ghosts of chance
Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth.. Lies Sir Roderick so very still. Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more, beyond life she can explore... In a tome of darkened lore answers were cast at the question. If only a mild suggestion of necromantic, a spell. To take back a soul from hell.... Claire descends in Roderick's tomb. They will be united soon.. Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight. Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair. Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome.. The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone.. going through marrow and cutting through bone. Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life.. Come back from Death and love thine wife.. A sacrifice with children's blood she gave Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave. His flesh looks putrid and vile.. Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle Claire comforts with a single giggle. Now they dance, hand in hand. They kiss in brittle moonlight his tongue like broken glass, such delight. So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair. Claire did not care, playing with raven hair. Roderick still festering, festering in his chair. Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head. Command Sir Roderick to share her bed. Little Claire was nowhere to be found... Chewing, drooling, smacking.... Followed by a clamour and loud cracking. Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire. Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair. Loathsome Claire was united no more.. Her cannibalized remains decorated the floor.
0
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
(Nec)Romantic
Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth.. Lies Sir Roderick so very still. Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more, beyond life she can explore... In a tome of darkened lore answers were cast at the question. If only a mild suggestion of necromantic, a spell. To take back a soul from hell.... Claire descends in Roderick's tomb. They will be united soon.. Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight. Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair. Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome.. The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone.. going through marrow and cutting through bone. Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life.. Come back from Death and love thine wife.. A sacrifice with children's blood she gave Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave. His flesh looks putrid and vile.. Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle Claire comforts with a single giggle. Now they dance, hand in hand. They kiss in brittle moonlight his tongue like broken glass, such delight. So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair. Claire did not care, playing with raven hair. Roderick still festering, festering in his chair. Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head. Command Sir Roderick to share her bed. Little Claire was nowhere to be found... Chewing, drooling, smacking.... Followed by a clamour and loud cracking. Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire. Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair. Loathsome Claire was united no more.. Her cannibalized remains decorated the floor.
Continue reading...
39
Stitches hold together rotting Skin. Buried secrets Deep in me, Struggle to remain Within. You sent for me to Stand right by your Side. I arrived the Night that you Gave away your Life, Again. You'd said, If you Love me let me Go. I said, Run away Before I know. Somewhere that I can never Find, Run and Leave me far Behind. As I Give in Into my Fear, I Reach for You, you Disappear. And I Thought that I could Save You. My soul was Banished to the Dark, Lost to necromantic Art. I still Keep your Letters penned in Ink, Secrets Whispered privately, And Sealed with your Kiss. Your Words keep you Alive Inside my mind. Until I have you Here again, I wont give up the Fight. So London, run and Save yourselves. Down here this Madman's raising Hell. But this is All for Love. I only hope that its Enough. I'll take the Living and the Dead, and you'll be with me In The End. Tell me God what is the Price? for Sacrifice to Save a Life So Save your Breath, I will not Hear. I think by Now its very Clear. to Hell with Right and Wrong, I'm the One thats playing God. and I wont Listen to your Pain, or Give in without my Way. and for Now we may be Apart; Until you come back from the dark And the Blood flows through your Heart. Bring out your Dead. Bring out your Dead. Bring out your Dead... ... I need the parts.
0
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 7:37 AM UTC
Finding Frankenstein
She was gorgeous misery framed in makeshift bandage corsets cinched with fall from grace sutured lace to save face Her battered life rife with strife covered in the mock elegance of a broken wing dress as the frenzies in her enigmatic mascara trail of tears glare soften slow burn devotions hastening their hopeless necromantic insurrection He was a fatal attractive midnight black feathered wraith Modeling trouble need scar heart genes and a bleedwork tainted warshirt earned by tethering himself to a mistake on countless battlefields his enemies' rancorous fear resonates in a crippled ripple across stillbirth waters With his outspoken outrage accented by photographic violence knowledge of immoral history charm and disguised threat lodge wisdom luring her into their surprised allegory demise In the here and now we find uncaring torture chamber musicians singing in the black ground as these two scar-crossed lovers entangle in a shotgun wedding and machine gun funeral Knowing from the start it would always be the two of them together as one against the old world
0
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
Native American Gothic (Plague on Word)
Opaque irises await those who uncover the un-burial mound Oafish sockets containing them like marbles Open to the elements, decaying with their corporeal encasement, shaded by Oaken leaves that remain unfallen, while Obsequious maggots go about their task of cleansing the remains Paralyzed in the final moments of their mortal coil, the bodies lay stagnant, Pacified only by the removal of sentience. Pagan rituals surround such corpses, and the intrepid discovers Patiently await the arrival of some necromantic spirit. Quasi-instinctively, the pioneers of the superterranean mausoleum Quell their fears and remove the bodies from their conclusive locale, Quantifying their deaths by the armaments and metal carapaces upon them.
0
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 12:44 AM UTC
X
Oh, tragic Romeo and Juliet, Two star-crossed lovers, by the way Thy tale of woe makes me ***** What else could be more cliché Or morbid Hamlet’s *********** With a jester’s empty head Thy necromantic discourse Woulds’t be better left unsaid And woe betide who says thy name I’d sooner choose a horrid death Than sit through the doubled bubbled fame Of the queer kilted lad, Macbeth Thy coupled innuendos, Bard Doth soften thee rigored mortis hard TL Boehm 03/14/09 (edited by Fred Boehm) PS: I conducted an interview with Shakespeare in an attempt to gather inspiration...from the sour sonnet above it was fruitless...my questions and his answers below... 1.Are you a male or female: "Tempt not a desperate man" 2. Describe yourself: "Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast" 3. How do you feel about yourself: "Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb." 4. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend "Tis torture, and not mercy 5. Describe your current boy/girl situation: "It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear" 6. Describe your current location: "Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty" 7. Describe where you want to be: bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud - (snippets of Romeo and Juliet, by the way....) 9. Your favorite color is: That which we call a rose 10. You know : Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." 11. What’s the weather like: Never was seen so black a day as this. 12. If your life was a television show what would it be called: For you and I are past our dancing days" 13. What is life to you: "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun" 14. What is the best advice you have to give: "These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume." 15. If you could change your name what would you change it to: "What's in a name?”
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Hating Shakespeare
Oh, tragic Romeo and Juliet, Two star-crossed lovers, by the way Thy tale of woe makes me ***** What else could be more cliché Or morbid Hamlet’s *********** With a jester’s empty head Thy necromantic discourse Woulds’t be better left unsaid And woe betide who says thy name I’d sooner choose a horrid death Than sit through the doubled bubbled fame Of the queer kilted lad, Macbeth Thy coupled innuendos, Bard Doth soften thee rigored mortis hard TL Boehm 03/14/09 (edited by Fred Boehm) PS: I conducted an interview with Shakespeare in an attempt to gather inspiration...from the sour sonnet above it was fruitless...my questions and his answers below... 1.Are you a male or female: "Tempt not a desperate man" 2. Describe yourself: "Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast" 3. How do you feel about yourself: "Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb." 4. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend "Tis torture, and not mercy 5. Describe your current boy/girl situation: "It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear" 6. Describe your current location: "Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty" 7. Describe where you want to be: bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud - (snippets of Romeo and Juliet, by the way....) 9. Your favorite color is: That which we call a rose 10. You know : Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." 11. What’s the weather like: Never was seen so black a day as this. 12. If your life was a television show what would it be called: For you and I are past our dancing days" 13. What is life to you: "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun" 14. What is the best advice you have to give: "These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume." 15. If you could change your name what would you change it to: "What's in a name?”
Continue reading...
35
My soul today in blood did weep, Shorn are my wings and my head ensnared in necromantic sleep, For she who I love have loved will love, She silenced me with silence, The reckless world does cruelly mock and never sees those without a voice, There is no freedom in forced choices, Responsibility, I have been informed, was yesterday in the sewer drowned, Thus it is I have learnt the lesson by being on the crossroad broken and burnt, My storm flavoured lady do you really see me as infernal Hades? *"Why hast thou so easily forsaken One who would sail the endless uncharted oceans at your bidding?"* I was always yours to command, Your sweet word was my bond, This night I stand mute by the crest of the craggy cliffs, All these wrecks were once my dreaming ships, My life so swiftly nailed before it could upon the horizon set and sail. On the windswept crag my mind swirls and aches, My heart each and every day now hotly blisters and bakes, One look back do I take for to glance yet again and slake my thirst at the fountain of your devastating smile, You tell me we shall nevermore be reconciled, Then I am no more! I plummet to the depths of the foaming shore, Just a speck in the moonlight, Carrion crows shall not be denied their delight, They shall feast upon the carcass of the morrow, Already thou hast forgot me and my sorrow. O, my love! I love you yet, my dove! ****** though I be and even though my eyes be closed your beauty yet I see! O, come back to me please And cut down my corpse from this weeping Judas tree. ©Rangzeb Hussain
0
Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 12:15 PM UTC
An Expression of Freedom
My soul today in blood did weep, Shorn are my wings and my head ensnared in necromantic sleep, For she who I love have loved will love, She silenced me with silence, The reckless world does cruelly mock and never sees those without a voice, There is no freedom in forced choices, Responsibility, I have been informed, was yesterday in the sewer drowned, Thus it is I have learnt the lesson by being on the crossroad broken and burnt, My storm flavoured lady do you really see me as infernal Hades? *"Why hast thou so easily forsaken One who would sail the endless uncharted oceans at your bidding?"* I was always yours to command, Your sweet word was my bond, This night I stand mute by the crest of the craggy cliffs, All these wrecks were once my dreaming ships, My life so swiftly nailed before it could upon the horizon set and sail. On the windswept crag my mind swirls and aches, My heart each and every day now hotly blisters and bakes, One look back do I take for to glance yet again and slake my thirst at the fountain of your devastating smile, You tell me we shall nevermore be reconciled, Then I am no more! I plummet to the depths of the foaming shore, Just a speck in the moonlight, Carrion crows shall not be denied their delight, They shall feast upon the carcass of the morrow, Already thou hast forgot me and my sorrow. O, my love! I love you yet, my dove! ****** though I be and even though my eyes be closed your beauty yet I see! O, come back to me please And cut down my corpse from this weeping Judas tree. ©Rangzeb Hussain
Continue reading...
46
Thank the Gods you didn't come back from the dead to haunt me again today I may have actually believed you I may have actually taken your word again I may have taken you back and done more damage to myself than there already is I hope you stay dead But when a ghost is in love with you, well Sometimes they just come back for you Singing love songs and whispering sweet nothings on the wind It's terrifying, really
0
Jun 1, 2021
Jun 1, 2021 at 12:38 PM UTC
Necromantic
Have you ever sang a song? Not behind a stirring wheel But for a crowd of patient swords Caught with uncertain appeal The judgement of lords Have you ever sang a song? Not for simple pleasure Cut the soul of simple wards Fought for undying tressure Broken and alone just wondering chords Have you ever sang a song? Not for lonely gain Mutt lost without idea of where he goes towards Thought of necromantic pain No hope of moving forwards Have you ever sang a song? Not of misery and despair But of a foundation of strengthened boards Got a future with everything to gain A life with endless reward
0
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
A Simple Change
We are numb in our tenements, the thick soot Of prophesy makes a witch-hunt of the heart, Shell-shocked by absurdity, while a Caligula tweets That the empire is fully restored in his name; We have only learned the sorrow of repentance. The children of No Kingdom are seduced, Their spirits hang in the citadel of limbo;   The elders are shattered by the state of siege, As the edicts to the whispering fear Make hysterical headlines of the idiotic. Mobs praise the counterfeit messiah; I pass these days in a monotone of tomorrows Watching their parade to No Kingdom; The angry kin of weary conquerors, The worshipers of necromantic America. Town bells of freedom rust in their towers, To Bezer will swarm the great nation; Pitiless slays the pitiful, the whole country "A smoking, stinking garbage dump- The fires burning day and night..."* The eyes of my soul behold the native soil- How they now cry with foul tears. Exiled are the children of sad immigrants From the gardens in the promised land, Obese hatred scorns the starving refugees. Citizen, our tribe is from the genesis of slaves, Blood brothers from famine and persecution; It is not enough to build a pillared temple     Just to hide in a sewer of dampness and worms- Are we but the scavengers who remain? How the spirits of the lofty statues   Are now homeless on jagged pavements; The daily lies spread as the vultures feast! What vengeance claims the coming age of man? What vain electric offering to our empty land? To those who **** with words and hateful ways, In drunkenness they scuff the word of their god. See them hoist their fascist salutes as the mongrel Tweets from his rotten bowels to No Kingdom; While burns our lineage to a poverty of ruins
0
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
TWEETS FROM NO KINGDOM
We are numb in our tenements, the thick soot Of prophesy makes a witch-hunt of the heart, Shell-shocked by absurdity, while a Caligula tweets That the empire is fully restored in his name; We have only learned the sorrow of repentance. The children of No Kingdom are seduced, Their spirits hang in the citadel of limbo;   The elders are shattered by the state of siege, As the edicts to the whispering fear Make hysterical headlines of the idiotic. Mobs praise the counterfeit messiah; I pass these days in a monotone of tomorrows Watching their parade to No Kingdom; The angry kin of weary conquerors, The worshipers of necromantic America. Town bells of freedom rust in their towers, To Bezer will swarm the great nation; Pitiless slays the pitiful, the whole country "A smoking, stinking garbage dump- The fires burning day and night..."* The eyes of my soul behold the native soil- How they now cry with foul tears. Exiled are the children of sad immigrants From the gardens in the promised land, Obese hatred scorns the starving refugees. Citizen, our tribe is from the genesis of slaves, Blood brothers from famine and persecution; It is not enough to build a pillared temple     Just to hide in a sewer of dampness and worms- Are we but the scavengers who remain? How the spirits of the lofty statues   Are now homeless on jagged pavements; The daily lies spread as the vultures feast! What vengeance claims the coming age of man? What vain electric offering to our empty land? To those who **** with words and hateful ways, In drunkenness they scuff the word of their god. See them hoist their fascist salutes as the mongrel Tweets from his rotten bowels to No Kingdom; While burns our lineage to a poverty of ruins
Continue reading...
40
Then one day our skin shed and our organs misted, all that left was buzzings. And some post-molting wore their old coats like necromantic cyborgs, and some buzzed together to a bee. But it took only one ghast accumulating of intertwined perpendicular lines, the spider before the egg who could fly across the Ouroboros gagging a new, and cut the threads of astral, crimson nebulas anchoring our time.
0
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 6:53 AM UTC
***