On one awful day
Dead stir, awaken to life
Step out of their crypts
Present themselves to the world
Overturn old certainties
By DS Davidson
Old Ladies from Hades
By Mark Hudson
The crypts have become undone,
the rise of the dead has begun.
Here come the old ladies from Hades,
they died when they were in their eighties.
Riding Harley-Davidson motorcycles;
head on fire, hearts cold as icicles.
Riding down the highway to hell,
you can hear their rebellious yell.
Come to ignite the world with fire,
a black leather jacket is their attire.
Long after their husbands had retired,
they had listened to the ultimate liar.
Their husbands died by poison in the tea,
so they hog all the money, with grandma glee.
Now they’re back with a vengeance for their cash,
and they’re flying down the highway with a flash.
Was the money hidden in a secret vault?
They tend to think it was the banker’s fault.
The account was frozen for the bankers to steal,
Now the old ladies would make their last deal.
Into the bank, they came as bank robbers,
With canes to beat up, canes to clobber.
They hypnotize the bank tellers with spells,
these old ladies from the bowels of hell.
They fill big bags with all the loot,
they get all the money, they don’t have to shoot.
Then they’ve got all the money from the account,
back to Hades, where the money doesn’t count.
Back to Hades, to give it to their master,
so he can buy away some sheep from a pastor.
God works hard, but the devil does too,
but when you are dead it’s too late to sue!
Dweller in the Hidden Chamber
(The Great Pyramid, Giza)
By Frank Coffman
Ah! They have detected my cell as last!
Compared to the millennia I have lain in wait—
Now but a short time before they delve some gate,
Some doorway to this place that has held me fast.
Far blacker than the blackness of my tomb
Have grown my Dark Spirit and my Evil Will.
They hoped these walls of lead, these tons of stone
Would keep them safe—perhaps would be my doom!
But I, Apep-Asfet, Chaos, Champion of Evil,
Have grown my plans for eons here alone.
They have forgotten why this hidden hall
Was formed, this crypt of horror without a portal.
Now dead are all the priests and mages. No mortal
Can stop the Terror, the Darkness that will befall.
Death in a Graveyard
By Harris Coverley
It seemed so sane
It seemed so sane!
Get to the party—
Get to the party!
Cut through the graveyard
Take a chance—
Take the shortcut!
And who da thought?
Who da thought it?
The ‘yard was full!
But not of guys and gals—oh no, oh no!
Goblins, ghouls, ghosts, and imps!
Not in costume—for real, for real!
Dancing, fighting, puking, biting, screaming—the real party!
They wanted us to join ‘em—
And they wanted it rough and ready!
Nasty types the lot of ‘em
We got our cuts and bruises
And one finger nearly sheared off
But Jimmy—he thought he could out-party all of ‘em!
Out-party goblins, ghouls, ghosts, and imps!
The damn bloody idiot!
Bloody idiot!
It’s all too horrible to describe in detail
But ol’ Jimmy couldn’t take it—
Legs in the air
Arms outstretched
Brains on the tombstones
Teeth in the weeds
The end result would’ve been obvious to anybody
But still, but still—
Who da thought it?
Who da thought it?
A death in a graveyard!
From the Tomb
By DJ Tyrer
Unexpected stirrings
Behind heavy stone doors
Eased slowly aside
With ominous grating sounds
Inhabitants stepping forth
Into the grey light
Of misty day
Stumbling from the tombs
Where they were laid
Others clawing up through earth
Desperate for air
Or worse
A multitude of the dead
Marching forth
Revisiting their haunts of life
The Doorway
By Frank Coffman
“ina qabri ba-a-bi iptu-uma-a inakitiba-a-bi iptetu-u”
“In the tomb, they opened a doorway to the Netherworld.”
(Sumerian, from The UDUG HUL*)
From Uruk, the site was several miles to the east.
A wild-wind Shamal had cleared the ancient stone,
Revealing an entrance to whose tomb? As yet unknown.
Two days after that great dust-storm had ceased—
Despite the warnings of that Zoroastrian priest—
Our team went quickly to that House of Bone.
We found more cautions on the lintel stone
In Early Sumerian….They told that an Evil Beast
Had been sealed in behind a black stone door.
Indeed the “tomb” was but a hollow vault.
No mortal remains or funerary gear
Are in that chamber, etched on walls and floor
With horrid charms. The growling made us halt,
Fill in, and rebury that place of Primeval Fear.
*[The Udug Hul: tablets of text containing chants or charms to exorcise the “Evil Udug” —literally “Udug Evil” or “Demon of Evil”])
View From Atlantis 