Poetry competition CLOSED 2nd September 2013 7:47pm
WINNER
braggman (Steve Bragg)
braggman (Steve Bragg)
RUNNER-UP:
PsychicApocalypse
A Night In A Graveyard
Poetry Contest Description
For whatever reason, you end up spending the night in a cemetery; tell all about it!
Any style, length, no collabs, enter as many times as you want, but write about your overnight stay in the graveyard--why are you there--what was it that caused you to end up camping out or hunkered down in such a place for? What happens, if anything?
Go nuts!
Go nuts!
Anonymous
“Crazy Bride-Lady”
http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/igorigorevich/igorigorevich1211/igorigorevich121100056/16441266-novia-bonita-loco-de-la-motosierra-sangrienta-en-rooom-vacio.jpg
(The Making of The Monster-Groom)
Seems like I always
get the shit-details.
This one was no different.
I mean really,
pulling surveillance
at the local graveyard.
Damn, of all the places
I could be on a cold Saturday night,
bowling, the movies, at home
watching football!
But the Captain said
this case was top priority,
grave sites were being dug up
all over the city,
bodies and their parts
had gone missing.
That’s some gruesome serious-shit,
we had to catch those sick puppies,
throw the book at 'em,
enough was enough.
Probably just some kids.
Ya know, they’re all into that
Dungeons and Dragons weird-stuff,
zombies, the apocalypse,
monsters and other silly things.
I mean you have to have deep-issues
if you think you’re a vampire,
fucking stupid Goths!
Well, at least it’s a full moon,
something to keep me company,
‘cause it’s gonna be
a long chilly evening.
Brrrrrrrr.
Actually, it’s
kind of creepy out here,
I’m glad I got my gun.
Oh and thank God for hot java.
It’s the only way for me
to keep my eyes open,
which by the way,
seem a little heavy at the moment,
I was out dancing late last night.
Gosh those crickets sound cool,
and those owls a bit mellow,
I feel soooooooooo nice,
soooooooooo relaxed………
What the fuck,
take these cuffs off!
Where the hell am I?
Sixty miles from the cemetery!
You hid my car where?
You need my what---my spleen!
You’re going to make
a monster-groom
out of body parts!
You've got to be kidding me girl???
Give me the key to these shackles,
get me off this table…NOW!!!
What are you doing
with that chainsaw crazy lady???
They ain’t never going to
hear scream me this far away!!!
JESUS CHRIST,
THAT FUCKING SAW IS LOUD!!!
Aaaahhhh,
aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh,
aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh
<THE END>
http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/igorigorevich/igorigorevich1211/igorigorevich121100056/16441266-novia-bonita-loco-de-la-motosierra-sangrienta-en-rooom-vacio.jpg
(The Making of The Monster-Groom)
Seems like I always
get the shit-details.
This one was no different.
I mean really,
pulling surveillance
at the local graveyard.
Damn, of all the places
I could be on a cold Saturday night,
bowling, the movies, at home
watching football!
But the Captain said
this case was top priority,
grave sites were being dug up
all over the city,
bodies and their parts
had gone missing.
That’s some gruesome serious-shit,
we had to catch those sick puppies,
throw the book at 'em,
enough was enough.
Probably just some kids.
Ya know, they’re all into that
Dungeons and Dragons weird-stuff,
zombies, the apocalypse,
monsters and other silly things.
I mean you have to have deep-issues
if you think you’re a vampire,
fucking stupid Goths!
Well, at least it’s a full moon,
something to keep me company,
‘cause it’s gonna be
a long chilly evening.
Brrrrrrrr.
Actually, it’s
kind of creepy out here,
I’m glad I got my gun.
Oh and thank God for hot java.
It’s the only way for me
to keep my eyes open,
which by the way,
seem a little heavy at the moment,
I was out dancing late last night.
Gosh those crickets sound cool,
and those owls a bit mellow,
I feel soooooooooo nice,
soooooooooo relaxed………
What the fuck,
take these cuffs off!
Where the hell am I?
Sixty miles from the cemetery!
You hid my car where?
You need my what---my spleen!
You’re going to make
a monster-groom
out of body parts!
You've got to be kidding me girl???
Give me the key to these shackles,
get me off this table…NOW!!!
What are you doing
with that chainsaw crazy lady???
They ain’t never going to
hear scream me this far away!!!
JESUS CHRIST,
THAT FUCKING SAW IS LOUD!!!
Aaaahhhh,
aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh,
aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh
<THE END>
I know it's not entirely fitting but I couldn't resist it 
Cadaver Re-animate
Church bells
and pitched roof of slate
in silence after they rang
a train went through a burial gate
a bird broke forth and sang.
tombstones anticipate
the rising of dead man
a rumbling underground
of shake
the drum begins to pound .
Remnant flesh
begins to stretch
as ancient sinues
re-connect
repulsive tissue
of thread bare
stuck onto skulls
with wisps of hair .
Cadaver re-animate
with a snapping , gristle sound
empty socket skulls awake
boney hands claw the ground
they scratch and scrape
the damp streets late
with gutteral , corpse , throat sound
looking for a life to take
with dragging steps unbound .
Cadaver Re-animate
Church bells
and pitched roof of slate
in silence after they rang
a train went through a burial gate
a bird broke forth and sang.
tombstones anticipate
the rising of dead man
a rumbling underground
of shake
the drum begins to pound .
Remnant flesh
begins to stretch
as ancient sinues
re-connect
repulsive tissue
of thread bare
stuck onto skulls
with wisps of hair .
Cadaver re-animate
with a snapping , gristle sound
empty socket skulls awake
boney hands claw the ground
they scratch and scrape
the damp streets late
with gutteral , corpse , throat sound
looking for a life to take
with dragging steps unbound .
GRAVEYARD PARTY TIME
At the midnight hour
I gather my bag of tricks.
For those who are sour
I have a bone to pick.
Necromantic tortures
Await those thought as dead.
For orgasmic cultures
In the face of God, they’re wed.
Graveyard is stirring
Without warning.
Corpses dragged above
For a wicked game.
The party of love
For those that fuck the slain.
The people gather
With offensive tastes.
Their fluids slather
On their undead mates.
Tombstones thumping
With corpse humping.
Proceedings witnessed
By me, afar.
Rotten and witless
The dead last ‘til morning star.
Dark magic in the air
Animates the dead.
Only joy, no despair
The dead giving head.
At the midnight hour
I gather my bag of tricks.
For those who are sour
I have a bone to pick.
Necromantic tortures
Await those thought as dead.
For orgasmic cultures
In the face of God, they’re wed.
Graveyard is stirring
Without warning.
Corpses dragged above
For a wicked game.
The party of love
For those that fuck the slain.
The people gather
With offensive tastes.
Their fluids slather
On their undead mates.
Tombstones thumping
With corpse humping.
Proceedings witnessed
By me, afar.
Rotten and witless
The dead last ‘til morning star.
Dark magic in the air
Animates the dead.
Only joy, no despair
The dead giving head.
Anonymous
MY NIGHT IN THE GRAVEYARD AS A VAMPIRE
THE BLACKEST GIFT
It is a night of dark desire, a song of ethereal pain
Wolves vent their howls
The immortal one wakens
Mist shrouds her brooding form
An everlasting wrath
Her ebon hair cascades over
Pale and tragic shoulders
Her full scarlet lips part slightly
To taste the
Vitae streaming from the
Pale flesh beneath her
Now a night of shared vitality
I rise to be like her
On others do I feed.
howls from St. Peter's den
why am I at peace with the overtures of the dead
grey and blackened shields entomb the fallen from predators like this charcoaled wolf
for I've long given up my chances for redemption
I simply prowl as a carrion feeder weaving amongst the markers
A vessel for those seeking salvation
I am not stirred by the reconstruction of souls I never knew
I need only hide behind the monotheistic bait for those foolish enough to believe in divinity
Crepuscular bandits bobbing in my wake borough for morsels of the soulless
Blood was spilled in every story told
and it's all I need to whet and sate my purpose
Shroud your loved ones with tears and shrieks of sorrow you hypocrites
Their passing makes room for you
Heard by a few are your hollow bellows of grief
that echo within the catacombs by which I slumber this night
And the within the shell that you perpetuate
I'm panting now
My pulsating tongue and syncopated breath
deciphers your camouflage
Capitulation serves you best
for I will be fed in the stone garden of St Peter's
His gates were not designed to keep me in
They are merely a testament that you can't stay out
Postscript: Written after spending a night at one of my havens, St. Peter's church and cemetery. I slept nestled within the tombstones.
why am I at peace with the overtures of the dead
grey and blackened shields entomb the fallen from predators like this charcoaled wolf
for I've long given up my chances for redemption
I simply prowl as a carrion feeder weaving amongst the markers
A vessel for those seeking salvation
I am not stirred by the reconstruction of souls I never knew
I need only hide behind the monotheistic bait for those foolish enough to believe in divinity
Crepuscular bandits bobbing in my wake borough for morsels of the soulless
Blood was spilled in every story told
and it's all I need to whet and sate my purpose
Shroud your loved ones with tears and shrieks of sorrow you hypocrites
Their passing makes room for you
Heard by a few are your hollow bellows of grief
that echo within the catacombs by which I slumber this night
And the within the shell that you perpetuate
I'm panting now
My pulsating tongue and syncopated breath
deciphers your camouflage
Capitulation serves you best
for I will be fed in the stone garden of St Peter's
His gates were not designed to keep me in
They are merely a testament that you can't stay out
Postscript: Written after spending a night at one of my havens, St. Peter's church and cemetery. I slept nestled within the tombstones.
Graveyard Revelations
He who brought me here didn't care it was snowing
Didn't mind dragging me out of bed
Was kind and let me pitch the tent
He who brought me here told me lots of ghost stories
Didn't care that I got scared
bought out the ouija board instead
He who bought me here summoned up 20 demons
Didn't feel the need to protect
Let me meet a mortal death
He who brought me here watched me become possessed
And once done the transformation
It would appear he disappeared
He who brought me here turned out to have never existed
Nor was he to me and imaginary friend
He was just a demon I already struggled with, determined to bring all I had left to an end
He who brought me here didn't care it was snowing
Didn't mind dragging me out of bed
Was kind and let me pitch the tent
He who brought me here told me lots of ghost stories
Didn't care that I got scared
bought out the ouija board instead
He who bought me here summoned up 20 demons
Didn't feel the need to protect
Let me meet a mortal death
He who brought me here watched me become possessed
And once done the transformation
It would appear he disappeared
He who brought me here turned out to have never existed
Nor was he to me and imaginary friend
He was just a demon I already struggled with, determined to bring all I had left to an end
My Night As A Visible Ghost
From the deepest undermined graveyard of the east,
Have I granted myself a crown of a fearless beast
With my nimble walk along the graves
I feel like I'm having a phantom debate...with the dead
A convo not so worldly
Cryptic enough to seize the night
A night on those tombs
Where my evil thoughts were doomed
For the love of the dead
And the fear of death
Haunting my presence in shades of stealth
On that night in the graveyard
That I still regret
From the deepest undermined graveyard of the east,
Have I granted myself a crown of a fearless beast
With my nimble walk along the graves
I feel like I'm having a phantom debate...with the dead
A convo not so worldly
Cryptic enough to seize the night
A night on those tombs
Where my evil thoughts were doomed
For the love of the dead
And the fear of death
Haunting my presence in shades of stealth
On that night in the graveyard
That I still regret
