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Dark Christmas Poems | Christmas Poems About Dark

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

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Details | Couplet |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.


Details | Light Poetry |

Space-Love

Let's escape to space
& Leave the human race 

Space-love a new awesomeness
Forget the life & the gloominess

Kiss me, because I care
Even thought the life is unfair

I want to be a space-lover
Love you now, tomorrow & forever

Lest Live in a house made of stars
& drive spaceship instead of cars 

We feel the space-love in moon
I'll be yours, you'll be mine so soon

Galaxy, universe, stars & limitless
Screw the world, we found happiness.


Details | Narrative |

An Inmates Dark Christmas

An Inmates Dark Christmas....
It was the first Christmas right after my momma passed away.
Any other Christmas I'd be making the best of the situation, but it was a very dark day!
It was a day I wanted to escape from, and nothing could distract my mind.
My body felt so numb, and the pain fed off of me being confined.

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
I laid on my bunk in a funk in that cold dark cell.
I was emotionally drunk, and that Christmas day was pure hell!
I pictured my momma in my minds eye, we were hanging decorations on the Christmas tree.
It was at that moment I wanted to die, for I just knew I would succomb to insanity!

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
That day I even contemplated suicide, for the pain and loneliness was just too much.
A bonified emotional homicide, for my momma I would never see or touch!
That Christmas I was a man with an empty shell, and a troubled soul.
A day of pure hell, and alone in that cell became my dark little hole.

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
I thought that day would never end, but then Christmas was gone.
No family or friend, for I was still terribly alone!
Christmas is still the hardest day of the year, but I manage to get by.
And although I still shed a tear, at least I no longer wanna die!


By Jimmy Matthew Anderson for Constance La Frances contest "Your Saddest Christmas 
Ever"


Details | Heroic Couplets |

THE STATIONERY BOY

THE STATIONERY BOY

His little dark street
Is at home in the silky cobweb;
His little dark street
Is only loud in the missionaries’ prayers,
It elicits a gaze in very few people,
It is but an uninvited guest to life.

The stationery boy hands out his beautiful fliers,
Like a messenger of his little dark street.
In his big clear eyes a tear is born,
Not as an accusation,
But as wonderful love,
His heart is young and full of hopes
That someday his big silent tear
Shall drop onto someone’s palm.
  
A new day is born in his wonderful spirit,
Perhaps somewhat cold and strange,
But a new day, still.
Oh powerful destiny, listen to your unloved son,
Wake up the sleeping star;
Wake up the sleeping sun;
Wake up the sleeping hearts of men,
So that the new day may be a friend to your unloved son.
  
In the inaudible shadows, he has his faithful listeners,
In death he has a faithful visitor,
His young beautiful eyes are more familiar with death than life.
When so many happy children gather around the city’s Christmas tree,
His dear young heart is loudly beating into the deaf nights,
Like a silver bell,
So that his small, dark home would be alight with a gaze.
  

When the wonderful northern wind brings
Happy children’s voices from afar,
Like a modest Christmas gift,
The stationery boy is building his little kingdom of happiness
In his vivid imagination,
His days and nights may be cold and dark,
But his imagination is bright and completely wonderful,
It shines in the darkness like an angel.
  
His silver bell is ringing beyond the heavenly dome.
If you want to show a real angel to your kid,
Hurry towards that little dark street,
And you might be lucky enough to see the stationery boy
Before he gets his silver wings.

  
©Walter William Safar
  
  





Details | Lyric |

A Gray Christmas

The little boy sits by the christmas tree 
Full of light and color
Trying to figure out what all the colors are
He puts his little hands on the ornaments
Trying to see what they are
Feeling them
He steps back and falls over a present
He feels around the box trying to open it
Only seeing alittle 

Mean while on the phone..

his mom is talking to the doctor

"do you think he will be able to see by christmas?" she says
The doctor replies "theres no guarentees, he is 67 % blind, when we did the test with him, he described the color blue as a dark black, and a yellow as a light gray, your son only sees in black and white and im not sure if we can fix that. but we will do our best"

A breathe escapes from her lips as she turns and looks at her son
The doctor explains "his surgery is set for Dec. 7th. be here around 8 am and we will see what we can do, im trully sorry"
He hangs up.

Back in the living room

The boy stands up and walks over to his mom
"mom, have you seen the christmas lights?" he says

She replies "yes sweety i have."

He hugs her leg and says "are they black and white?"

She answers "no sweety" she points to a light bulb on the tree

"this one is blue" she smiles

He grabs the light bulb and repeats "this one is blue" and giggles

She lays him down in his bed as he quickly falls asleep

She sits down on the chair and thinks
"to me. because my son cannot see the beautiful lights and feel the joys of christmas, everything is gray for me. nothing will fill my empty heart"


There are no smiles, when everything is gray, when you cant see the colors of a bright day




Details | Free verse |

Only Pleasure and Happiness in the silent night

On the lonely street
I hear nothing 
But the charolers on Christmas eve 
The cheerful sound fill up
The dark and quiet night
With pleasure and happiness


Details | Light Poetry |

Space-Love

Let's escape to space
& Leave the human race 

Space-love a new awesomeness
Forget the life & the gloominess

Kiss me, because I care
Even thought the life is unfair

I want to be a space-lover
Love you now, tomorrow & forever

Lest Live in a house made of stars
& drive spaceship instead of cars 

We feel the space-love in moon
I'll be yours, you'll be mine so soon

Galaxy, universe, stars & limitless
Screw the world, we found happiness.


Details | Rhyme |

A Wise, Dark Angel A Fairy Princess

A Wise, Dark Angel 
( A Fairy Princess )

Who has often told me –
who many times showed me –
my perceived value, my worth.
Who has made me see
who I am, where I’d be
in the world of thee.
Oh! if only you could be free
from all that keeps you - distant – from me.

B. J. “A” 2
December 8th 2007


Details | Acrostic |

Ms Poe's Dark X-Mas

My queen, dip your quill in blood and write me a Sonnet on this Christmas night
Santuary where there’re wilted rose buds; sit tell me a story of the demonic acolyte

Paint me a poetic picture in my mind’s eye, so the images make love to my brain
Obscure words I begin to identify encompass me like a raging hurricane!
Entice me with your verse and take my mind away this Christmas night.
Spiritual hell in this cell, is my curse and only you can feed my ravenous appetite

Descendant of Mr. Poe, you emerge from the shadow of death.
Abstract words setting my being aglow; taking my very breath!
Recite, “The Raven” to quick start my heart, to fill up the pages of my writing pad.
Keys open the door to my haven, in which lies Edgar Allen Poe, my granddad!

Xrays show a heart as black as coal
Macabre of poetic art corrupting my very soul!
Acrostic ode to Ms Poe on this eerie Christmas Night!
Santa can’t stomach her dark mode, for under the mistletoe lies the demonic acolyte!!


Details | Blank verse |

kiss of death

The Kiss of Death 

He was not a smart thief, nevertheless good at opening locks,
but often leaving finger prints behind, he was the one who 
ended up in prison…. And when he was told that in an empty 
villa where the owners had gone to Spain to avoid the cold,
he decided to go it alone. Breaking in, easy and the painting  
“The Kiss” by Munch, hung there on the wall. It got very cold 
and snowy, but he could not lit a fire, in case neighbours noticed
and pay a visit; there was no food in the house…. Three day later, 
driven by hunger and cold, he tucked the painting under his
 arm and went to his car which was snowed in and he didn´t
have a spade so he used the painting to clear the car. The picture
broke in half but still he thought it was valuable. 
Finally in the car he tried to start, but the battery was flat, tired 
from cold and hunger he fell in the longest sleep; when found
there was a broken, fake Munch painting by his side. 


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