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Life Dark Poems | Life Poems About Dark

These Life Dark poems are examples of Life poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Life Dark poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

A Place

I have seen fair lady April
Dance with daffodils;
I have seen the misty dawn
Light moors and windy hills.
Painted in dark shadows
Of a sunlit afternoon
I have smelled the heady scent
Where blue hyacinths commune.

I have heard the curlew's call
As she sailed the wild dark sea;
And seen the sailor guide his ship
In the dream that used to be.
I have known precious moments
In the echoes of a song;
But I never knew the comfort of
A place where I belong.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

A LullabyTo The Lost

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my 
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm 
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from 
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles 
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they 
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a junkie  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Pantoum | |

Wayward Child

Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.

Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.

Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.

We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.



Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lanterne | |

Dead People Don't Cry

When life is this tough, you may long to die.
The Grim Reaper beckons, like he's your friend.
Try to remember, dead people don't cry.

A bad beginning, may look like the end.
Your soul is anguished, every night and day.
The Grim Reaper beckons, like he is your friend.

Try not to listen, he'll lead you astray.
It's hard not to follow, his dark allure.
Your soul is anguished, every night and day.

Death's not the answer, it offers no cure.
Filled with sadness, you're not able to think.
It's hard not to follow, his dark allure.

Fill your cup with love, it can be your drink.
Refreshing of mind, dancing with the light.
Pouring out sadness, now able to think.

You have the power, you're able to fight.
Refreshing of mind, dancing with the light.
You thought life was tough, you wanted to die.
Still you remembered, dead people don't cry.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behind,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...

Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

I know (Oppression)

One thing that I know all about, without any doubt
        The meaning of “Oppression of The Soul.”
               I once shattered all my dreams, with ill-gotten schemes
                      Along with every single goal
Emptiness is a real dark thing
        As it eats its way through your soul
              I found the bottom of the pit, all I can say of it
                       It truly was a very empty hole
I guess every story has a meaning
         Just as every game has a price
              If you look closely at me, you’ll be able to see
                      A lifetime of pain in my advice
Oppression is a real dark word
        Regardless of how the word is used
                 If you’re in the shadow of it, the bottom the pit
                          You know what it means to be abused
For years I walked in the shadows
      I had nothing but hatred for the Son
                I just couldn’t see, why it had to be
                        All the things in my life that had been done
If you were to look into my eyes
      And read all the stories they have to tell
            All you would be able to see, is pain and misery
                   A shadow that was in a living hell
I know all about oppression
     For it rolls upon the shores of hate
        I once looked in the mirror to see, a ghost living in me
             Just a skeleton walking through his fate
I also know all about redemption
     Behind every shadow there rest some form of light
                   With in the breath of a prayer, I learned how to care
                           Thus changing the course of my plight
Every story has a meaning
        There is a way to right any wrong
                Grasp to the light, and then hold on tight
                          As you search for the meaning of your song
My song once was heavy metal
         I truly loved to bang my head
                 An empty soul, with a bottomless hole
                          A never-ending hunger to be fed
Now my song is a ballad
        A story that is full of hope and love
                I learned how to pray, and give it away
                       Accepting grace from the Lord above
Oppression crosses our paths everyday
        It is everywhere to see
                You know what’s right, learn to stand and fight
                       You will have learned to be all that you can be
 

Written for the "Oppression of the Soul Contest)

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009

Details | Concrete | |

Dark Feeling

The feeling that i have 
is the feeling you should know
falling in a dark hole
wishing to see the light
and come out of this hell hole 
ending thoughts come and go
seeing dead people is a norm
fighting spirit is almost gone
so i'm standing here all alone
wanting to pray goes through my thoughts
don't know were to start so i leave behind
feeling like god has left me
so i fall deeper in his demise
hanging, cutting, and mutilation he tells me to do
but i know i am better then that
so i act like i aint got a clue
dark power and thoughts lark side by side
if anyone can hear me
help me kill it
so i wont see eye to eye.

Copyright © John Tora | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

It Can't Be Real

A truth in rage of insult furrows my mind
For it is only an offense given to me by myself
In the mouths of others far innocent than I
I feel the tears trickle down my cheeks
For I have surfaced into an ugly mistake
I am always inadequate in this brain
I try to shine like the advice of grace given
But confidence rarely rears its head my way
There’s a sort of shade blocking its way
A shade that darkens everyday

That very shade led me to believe my feelings are wrong
That I will never belong so long as they are not controlled
I must be careful—for the lines of love and lust run cold
I hate myself truly this night
And no one but myself will give me the right
The very right to degrade my every being
Because you are not seeing what I am seeing

There is no point
My lines run cold
Can I be so bold as to say
I still love with a pang of indistinguishable doubt 
All feelings enter in
As my truth blurs and checks out

Your words pierce me so deep
I cannot describe the pain I feel
God it hurts so bad
It can’t be real

Much like the love I have come to embrace
The very love that links to your face
Tears don’t give it justice

It can’t be real
Much like the love I will never face

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Didactic | |

Victus

"Victus" By M. Taha Effendi (Didactic) Amidst the gloom of night's dark shroud, lurks Death in far corners of the shade. To vanquish my fears to God I bowed, And death shall find me... unafraid. Amidst this vale of tears and pain, my heart in life's robbed solace bled. God gave me strength to stand again, I found peace in His words I read. In pleasures and crime my life is spent, with sins the wretched soul is weighed. But God's love taught me to repent, He pursued me everytime I strayed. It matters not how dark the past, how much the evil takes its toll. Darkness thrives but never shall last, The Savior redeems the conquered soul. (Inspired by "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley)

Copyright © Mohammad Taha Effendi | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

The Undyings' Curse

Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star

Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw 
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries

A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought  by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Pantoum | |

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

When I was young and life was easy
I never thought but of the next day.
For the young, things can be so breezy
It is the child's way.

I never thought but of the next day
Until that day came upon me.
It is the child's way
And I did not want to see.

Until that day came upon me
I was carefree like the bird on high.
And I did not want to see
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry.

I was carefree like the bird on high
Only to be trapped by love
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry
Crushing me down from above.

Only to be trapped by love
For the young, things can be so breezy
Crushing me down from above
When I was young and life was easy.


Dan Cwiak ... written for:
Paula Swanson's Pantoum contest

Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010

Details | Senryu | |

You Will Feel

be mindful
human rights are human ways
that lead down

be careful
the words above always remain
wear no crown

trap the sin
destroy the lie of conceit
look within

don't consume all that you see
you will feel
wrong like fire

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Fool

Within your mind you silly fool
Your anger, a storm hidden inside of you
Things forbidden now begin to brew
Tormented by things you should say or do,

Whispers and lies they spread like wild fire
Wants and needs and your inner desire
Fearful of life and human touch of hand
Strength and weakness becomes demand.

You live in the world inside of you
One day you will pay you silly fool
For life is not a game for the cool
It counts for everything you do.

4/6/13

Found this in a stack of papers and not sure what I was watching that made me write this one.

Copyright © Phyllis Babcock | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Dying young

They say sticks and stones may break my bones but I 
came face to face with a wall today.
I keep on searching but I'm lost
I keep on climbing but I'm falling
I'm walking but your pulling me back
Haven't you had enough of the scars that I already have
I'm shouting with no voice 
I'm crying but the well within is dried up
Gravity keeps on pulling me back
Katrina keeps on coming back

Its dark where can I find the light
I'm chained,  trapped, binned-ed by this chains
I can't breath your suffocating me
I can't sleep your controlling my life
I'm shouting and kicking but your laughing
Im torn apart and bleeding
You see the the beauty on the outside but I'm dying 
within. 


Copyright © Asiphe Tomeli | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Wasteland -Part 1-

How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity? How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind? I have never been able to solve the mystery— Of myself. . . I wish at times that my life was no more That I could live as another and finally see things right But I am always stuck in this darkness And I cannot see this mind in light There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland Searching for any remaining life And if they are ever found— They are doomed and consumed Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze It is silent here—there are no answers I wish there were answers. . . But maybe there was never a reason No answers. . . Talons extend and clench around my heart They will never seek me out—they left me here It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer I feel the pulse of my dangling life Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth No balm in Gilead! No eyes to see All I know will never be free I don’t need anyone! You are a disgrace—scum of the waste! You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing You are a joke. . . So swallow it all up like the pushover you are Stand your lowest and trudge right through No questions. No answers. Just . You. Or just lie back down into the mush of disease It has already infected you to the core Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence! I hate you Who are you to be glorified? Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright Saturated in what you call light I see right through—even as the reflections shatter All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter… But alive you are the worst there is False savior—edited attention whore I never want to see your face again See, that’s why I hide. . . Desperation. . .desperation. . . I sob and cry kneeling in defeat For once I am right. . .I am right

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Within The Clouds

it stormed again in her heart last night
     wild slashing rain
driving hard against the walls
     battering the beat
     and riding the heat
shattering wailing zephyrs
this tempest bemoans her

it stormed again in her heart last night
      hard pulsing thunder
and raw rhythms that quake
and she alone to feel the pain
stark and dark Kentucky rain
tearing past her guard
to lay blasted and bleeding

it stormed again in her heart last night
where daffodils should bloom
where the sun light is cast aside
and tulips weaken and fold
     cherries lose their hold
lightening has shadowed eyes
willow boughs must always weep

it stormed again in her heart last night
as she alone watched the sun die
fragile hands, and hollow cheeks
    torn and worn, the shattered
in the red and blue that mattered
in a dark lake beneath the crying moon
     that is where the tears go

Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epic | |

Song in the Dark

~
There are legends I've heard, old songs in the dark
of the old folklore tales, and the old gypsy trails,
where traveling caravans of rugged old wagons
still echo, with longing, in valleys below...

Where each treasured belonging,
was packed in a hurry 
all the stories, all the worry, all the heartache would travel
all the sunshine, and the sorrow, celebrations to marvel
and  dreams of tomorrow, were kept on the road....

The trail was a friend, and the loam was their home
Their needs were quite small,
They didn't expect, to be wealthy or rich.
All the riches they had, were scarce and so few...but they knew
that happiness could be the sun on your back, or a sky, wide and blue...
Not much to expect,  and not even respect...
would be theirs to be owned.

As the twilight would come, under a red setting sun,
with the fragrance of loam, and the tired walk done... 
they would bed under trees where the heather was strewn
they would burn a small fire, and prepare a warm meal,
with smoke in the breeze, while the whippoorwill's song 
and accordion tunes, would drift by the face of the moon

On their heels was the dust, in the noontime sun
They rose with the dawn, and the gold of the past, 
wearing the colorful hope of tomorrow's new task 
Working wherever a meal, and dollar would come
Then moving again with their band until dusk
over, and over and over again...

Some called them tramps, or small petty thieves
But the heart of the matter, was the love of the sun,
the love of the life that came from the moon,
from the stars, and the grass, and the rust of the leaves

For those who encountered, and who gave them a chance
could learn many things by watching them dance,
and learn many things by hearing them sing,
and pay close attention to how much they knew
that fortune is something that comes from inside
It comes with the pride, of knowing what matters
The tattered, lost life of the old gypsy tribes  ....
      might be the saddest of stories, or loneliest song... 
                    a song that has faded,
                                that has dwindled and died....






_______________________________________
5/18/12 
101 in a ROW contest - 12
Sponsored by PD

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

we are stars

people are like stars,
some are younger,
some are older,
some are brighter,
some are darker,
some are bigger,
some are smaller,
but in the end we are all the same.
all together.
shining bright with our personality.
dont care about what other people think.
its their own opinion.
be unique,be you.
you are who you are, and who you are is all their gonna get.
so shine like a star!!!

Copyright © mary youkhana | Year Posted 2013

Details | Pantoum | |

Canyons Cold and Dark

She dwells in deep canyons cold and dark
To ponder a mystery that haunts her soul
That leaves confusion and doubts in heart
The loss of confidence now takes its toll

To ponder a mystery that haunts her soul
That renders sleepless hours through the night
The loss of confidence now takes its toll
A flower slowly dying withers in sunlight

It renders sleepless hours through the night
The days are shortened and she wastes away
A flower slowly dying withers in sunlight 
Her sweet fragrance lost, forever and a day

The days are shortened and she wastes away
What could be this wrong which she has caused?
Her sweet fragrance lost, forever and a day
To fully grasp this puzzle she requires pause  

What could be this wrong which she has caused?
What pain has she laid upon your heart?
To fully grasp this puzzle she requires pause 
She dwells in deep canyons cold and dark
~*~

By:     Audrey Carey
Note:  For Paula Swanson's "Pantoum" Contest

Copyright © Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

'Dear Prudence'

Hell breaks loose through the trusting door
Whining its splintering, wooden hinges
Claws wrapping onto the arches beyond
Gnarled feet pressed on the threshold
Lower limbs jingling with sparky anklets
Ready to catapult and kick with spitting mouth
To shove its shine like a worthy prick
It was time for her daily purges

Peace is slapped about in her fickle hands and made ragged
Turmoil in her pedicured toes erodes the smoothed surfaces
Of the fashions’ must, into dusty rust of sick disgust

Her coral lips curve in delight
At the sight of confused and crazy creatures
Staring numbly at her hell-bent sight
She is always laughing, snarling or lying low
Waiting for the climatic blow 

Bottom dwelling, blush smearer 
Eyeliner runner, nail-biting binger
Her lies tease and her eyes see a perfect she will never be
As her large, curved nails glimmer 

She scuttles her way like a crab in a salty delirium
She hides her hiss like a snake ready to miss for a chase
Challenging practicality,
“Dear Prudence, 
Won’t you come out to play?”
But we are silent to the accursed 
The wise are wary and rehearsed

We all slip right through as she intrudes an empty room
Waiting for a reaction, screwing with the lights to assert a distraction 
She wreaks havoc in the dark,
“Dear Prudence!”
She screams,
As we softly walk down the path, nomads against the crabs
She doesn’t realize she is her worst fear—alone
Her mask melting and her anklets snapping
Collapsing, the tears she squeezed for her high
Were emptied, vindicated and dried 
Angrily she must realize
In her twisted, stubborn way

It’s a beautiful day… 

A crazy collab with my brother David Breidenthal [J.W Earnings]

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

'Through His Eyes'


When your jar feels so heavy Things continue to pile No escape from life’s tribulations Your outlook on life so gloomy When you feel like staying in bed When the energy seep through your fingers Draining all that you have left Just remember That does not symbolize all of you It might be what you feel now It does not label you Don’t judge yourself by your dark thoughts We all go to that space at times Always remember your anchor That does not stand in judgment Of your lack of faith at times Just don’t linger in that mode Tormenting yourself with guilt You weren’t meant for that dark space Eventually you will need to get up You will need to man up Face life again He selected you for this passage Because He knew your capability Even when you feel gutted All He sees is your potential The one thing you don’t grasp While you looking at the now
©181120151438

Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

The Other Side

In vile defeat I confided to helplessness
I cringed knowing I know so little
As inadequate as I am I felt responsible 
I felt responsible to know everything

In this mentality I suffered long nights
Over thinking myself and overlooking life
Until I gave up the pain for a little while
And took a deep, dark look to the other side

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Black Marmalade

Slicing the instinct
The arcane was torn, curses spit
Teardrop bated as the breath hunts
Wound wide open, the heart cries

The ripple of pain unable to stem
The cimmerian sigh loud and stay
Body falls along with the bridge of hope
Toying life unwillingly to be blamed

The chain of fate convoluted by mistakes
Incised by the foredoom of another story
Shouted a shout inevitable said
Reverses direction and unpredictably impaled

Breath blows the true bitterness
Jaded in each lamentation
Tired of every abnormalities which frequently ensue
Longing for the things which reasonably flows as it should

Life is about to choose
Though destiny had its own script
We have awarded a red carpet, but
Sorry if we still have to walk on the imperfections of life

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

A Dark Man

         This piece is dedicated with love to J.E. Gauthier, Jr. Active addict and father. 
Only by the grace of God may he be saved from the error of his ways.

 For years a dark man walked through a seemingly revolving door
 Steadily leaving his wife and kids as he searched for something more
 Occasionally calling home every now and again
 In his voice they could hear the taint of black sin
 
 Back then life on the road meant drugs money and women far as the eye could see
 He said he'd never look back 'cuz he was born free
 
 Life grew emptier as he grew older
 The drugs grew heavier as his heart grew colder
 His four children left behind with no place to call home
 From day one they made it in this world alone
 
  For years a dark man walked through a seemingly revolving door
 Steadily leaving his wife and kids as he searched for something more
 Occasionally calling home every now and again
 In his voice they could hear the taint of black sin

 Every few years he'd arrive unannounced offering money and a hug
 All while using the garage to hide his drug
 His spitting image could smell his guilt a mile away
 She rolled her gloomy blue eyes in unison with every false word he had to say

 Today his girls are grown raising girls of thier own
 December came and went
 February turned to Lent
 On a stormy midnight he still turns to his blue eyed spitting image
 As the clouds clear she is again lost in the scrimmage

 She lies awake with a bottle of wine in hand
 On her mind weighs a dark man
 His ways make him lonely and lost
 Yet to her death she will fight for him at all costs

  For years a dark man walked through a seemingly revolving door
 Steadily leaving his wife and kids as he searched for something more
 Occasionally calling home every now and again
 In his voice they could hear the taint of black sin

Copyright © Sara Beaderstadt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

Evil That Always Takes Its Toll

Evil That Always Takes Its Toll

Remember where hot lightning bolts flash down,
Its sun-fire heat burning in a tragic strike!
There perished mother and her little tyke;
Tragedy there, where the angels cry and frown,
And sing their saddest songs upon the waves:
Doom and gloom a sad fruit to be born
Taken long before Gabriel blows his horn.
Judged by Fate no power in Universe ever saves,
Yet no man lives that can ever be so sure,
That misery will forget to take its toll
Upon the peace that stirs the blessed soul!
There was peace: yet no peace can insure,
Paradise will be waiting for its fair guests,
The great promise, its most fantastic lure!
Security of life and limb of angels so pure:
Or protection from Evil that so eternally infests.

Robert J. Lindley, August , 1973

Note: A poem from my private journal, from back when I wrote a bit more in the old style.
Sometimes I dearly miss writing like this..... and that muse that raced so far away!

p.s. My first wife(future ex) thought this my best poem ever. 
At that time I had several hundred written.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

I Remember Fierce Storm That Blew My Life Apart

I Remember Fierce Storm That Blew My Life Apart

I remember fierce storm that blew my life away.
Images burned into a sad, finely tortured mind;
reminds me of that epic and dark fateful day,
tears falling down but no good answers could I find.

So in love with my sweetheart but soon hope gave way,
when drug induced Nirvana flew into our home.
Easy now to see it in slow motion replay,
when I groped in darkness wherever I dared roam.

Raging clouds gathered within the uncertain West
as thunder spilled over into each haunting hour.
No joy in simply knowing that I did my best,
while I saw the destruction of my wild flower!

I remember fierce storm that blew my life apart.
Its massive crushing winds destroyed my aching heart.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-11-2016

Form- Sonnet, I used 12 syllables instead of ten.

Syllables Per Line:	
12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables:	168
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	124

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse | |

Chilled Dawn

She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog, 
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand, 
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house, 
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago. 
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,  
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim. 

       nor'easter winds                                                roll top shoe box...
      splinter the silence..               --                     debutante' caught in amber
        a cataract view                                                   frozen sepia  

Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily,  she polishes the cold glass, 
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime, 
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.  
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes, 
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement. 
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water, 
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow. 




__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013