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Free Verse Dark Poems | Free Verse Poems About Dark

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Silent Page

Silent Heart

Sad, as it maybe, I had to break my OWN heart, 
Too many nights, I sat there all torn apart
A dream girl, 
Sitting under its own corrupted auspices sky 
You the poet, in disguise
Telling white lies about, your love for me
Saying I'm a born from the sky....
A match, a queen, your muse, your everything
I'm no good, I admit this once more, 
Your advice, I forever adorn 

It's time to follow the crying crows and praise what is left
Afraid to listen my rhymes weren't cutting it, 
I release it all!
Your smiles, words, and worn out shoulders
I walked away
Silently--
I acted on
Without a word, in a fetal stage I awake
Tonight you carry a tune for others
A story of a man who stole my soul of sins
A poet, I long forevermore
Always, you will own the only sound that still beats inside
To live alone, in silence, asleep in my own world
I had to let go, 
-Of him, whose name I whisper in darkness
The only thing that remains is the echoes of pouring rain

Too many reasons, writer's block, took full moon
You are a poet, from another lifetime, 
Down in Mandalay, I can no longer ask you to stay
Reading everything about my life, silent and old
Alliterating poems, greeting every dark shadow, normally yours
Many nights I waited, long for the moment of my OWN return
Instead, I found myself alone
Trying to dust off yesterday's verse, yesterday's dirt
Cobweb remains on my page
My pen now sits like a twig
No motion, since the day I decided I am not worthy of the wait
You the poet, who walks my way
I pressured less of me every day
Like Aspen, a forever winter cold! 
Isolated to the world
In your eyes, you wonder why, 
I trace the white smoke standing in your place?

To savor your words, once more 
It's too soon to breathe again. 

I hope you understand, 
How can I continue to love when I don't even love myself?

By:PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Silver Haze

*                     ~Dark Silver Haze~                               *

   (side#1)                                         (side #2)

come taste life                  ----------  Heart-warming wine
old and stale,                   ----------   Jot down a line
unflavored, unpolished,      ---------   Mood changes hue
A sour, dim shade              ---------   To sweet silver blue

the lowest feeling              ---------- How high the cost
eternal gray sky               ----------  How much is lost
hollow memories               ---------- Back payment due
A sour, dim shade             ---------  To sweet silver blue 

weak limbs, overpower         ------- Head shake and sigh
moments of lights              --------  None left to deny
everything ends                 --------  Insight in view
A sour, dim shade             --------  To sweet silver blue 


torn from reality             --------   Somehow I gain
low spirits of sorrow        --------  Beauty from pain
bitter and dull,                 --------- As thoughts turn to you
A sour, dim shade           --------   To sweet silver blue


**A deep Look Into The eyes of the Poet Destroyer**

~A Tim Ryerson Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

It hurts so bad

Your eyes don't see
the darkness of my soul...
You think you know,
but you don't.
Just because...
I smile,
you are fooled,
by what lies
deep inside.
I'm bleeding,
but, you don't see my blood....
These eyes see no happiness,
for they have run dry.
My heart beats pain
throughout my body,
driving me insane.
It hurts....  Hurts so bad,
no one hears,
my silent screams...
I'm in despair,
nobody cares.
Remorseful regret,
too late to repent..
Hardship hurts,
hello heartbreak.... Heartaches.
Heart under attack... Heart attack.
I tried, but stopped searching,
seeking a serene secure sanctuary....
Sadness, suffering, seduced by sorrow,
why wait for tomorrow...
Melancholically mourning misery....  Sigh.
I would explain, 
but, you don't understand.
I'm human too,
but no empathy nor compassion,
makes me feel unaccepted.
Every morning,
the birds sing sad serenades.
Selfish sun has stopped shining,
ravage rain repeatedly ravages....
And...
I'm broken... So many broken pieces..
Nobody can fix me.. There is no cure.
Dancing alone, in a lonely room..
All my friends have become enemies,
loneliness is my only companion..
My solitude is not optional,
for they do not tolerate me,
so, I do not tolerate them...
I am no mystery,
but they become confused..
I'm tired of pretending,
that I do not exist.
And,
I can't breathe..... I'm dehydrating,
but, I'm drowning without getting wet..
I'm lost and the visions become somber,
dull, dingy, drab, dark, darker, 
misty, murky... Blurred....
Finally, the lights go out.


12 February 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Stalking The Stalker: Peter Pan Can


Captain Hook, you shine your Swastika 
with the schizophrenic shadows
that followed you to the dimly-lit places 

where you attempt to be a Fuhrer, 
Herr Doktor und the Gestapo 
all wrapped into one -- 
a one-trick-pony with three phony faces.

The shadows hiss into your ear,
"He is Peter. He is also Peter. She too, is Peter.
They are all Peter!"

Just as the foolish invoke the Devil with repetition,
I will grant your wish, by being Peter The Pan;
your Precious obsession.

I am clad in skeleton leaves
and the flowing sap of Skull-Cap trees.

Wendy is an inverted double-u:
M stands for the Murderously silent swagger
of Neverland's Cloak and Dagger.

Stalker-Troll, you are emboldened 
behind the illusory safety of microchips
and a screen that brightly glows.

Put your false bravado where your hook clacks the keys,
because I play for keeps, 
yet know enough to tip the chimney-sweeps.

And the Lost Boys are in tow.
The system lost sight of us
after we aced our exams on William Golding --
yes, Piggy, boys will always....be....boys.

The Lost Boys are Canis Lupus:
Peter and his Wolves
howling at their pearled Goddess.

Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and The Twins
are tracking your scent to under the bridge
where you dine and slumber with Gluttony's swine.

Ignorance, you invoked Pan's gift-bearing countenance
with your fattened, unsmiling jowls,

so here I come clad in skeleton leaves
and the flowing sap of Skull-Cap trees.

My shadow slinks over there,
but I am hiding over here,
patiently waiting to release you
from the sickness whispering in your ear.




*This is a fictional stab at some Poésie-Noir 
for the sake of sentimentality and your entertainment.
Please, enjoy, have a slice.




February 19th, 2014







+/-

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Nightmares and Razor Blades

I stare at my ceiling,
I start to wonder, why am I not healing?
Then it dawns on me,
The nightmare clip starts to roll.
I shake and shiver and wince at every little thing.
I'm scared to death, 
What does this all mean?
I start to cry,
I feel as if I might die.
Then I grab my blade, 
The tears come quicker.
My breath starts to quicken,
My grip on the blade makes my knuckles turn white.
In the mirror is where I see that my ivory skin is now blotchy and red.
I tell myself, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound 
As I sit up in bed and hold my wrist out in front of me. 
I count to three,
One, 
I put the blade to my wrist.
Two,
I start to add pressure.
Three,
I yank the blade across my skin,
It pierces and then I start to bleed.
I suddenly want it to stop, 
But there's no going back now. 
I wonder why it came to this,
I know nobody cares about me,
I know nobody is going to forget me.
Quietly I say, "I'm sorry."
But nobody is there,
No one will ever be.
I start to fade out of this world,
My addiction would finally be gone,
And so would I.
I was lost, 
Lost and angry. 
Suddenly, it was gone,
I woke up screaming.
The pain was oh-so real.

Copyright © Mackenzie Lakin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Bleeding Love

Introducing: Jan Allison & Poet Destroyer

Pierced by shards of shattered glass 
Deeper and deeper you stab me 
With lies and venomous words 
Dissecting my heart piece by piece 
Crushed like the petals of a withered rose 
I’m dying … 
Scarlet blood seeps into my very soul 
    Drip 
       Drip 
          Drip 
Into pieces and a bloody mess 
I sacrificed secrets; 
Secrets you tore and tore, 
Gracing a fake friendship, 
Trust tossed like a sweaty towel 
Now karma a poisonous snake 
You plea ... 
To be on death row, decomposing 
Dripping into the night -- Silently 
fading and fading 
Stung by my viper lips, 
     smiling 
        grinning 
           laughing 
Until you are no more


~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

December Rain

Unexpectedly the timid sun made an appearance an orb of flames silent amidst the peaceful horizon wistfully the harmony was short lived ferocious winds blew with merciless tones melancholic rain returning with little remorse inclement storms battering emotions brutally defeating them to oblivion raindrops soaked like predatory demons in conjunction with bloodthirsty winds lost within the abyss of anguish and pain seeking shelter from vicious venomous daggers I stumbled upon the marketplace of sorrow surrounded by souls lost to a religion of perturbation ambushed I remained, impatiently in this downpour degradation counting down the days of disturbing December deterioration 6 December 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Seduced by black

I was not lost, but deserted and desolate. Until delicate deep voices echoed, becoming disturbing, disconcerting, distressing and discouraging - dwindling me into depression. As I closed my eyes, this little boy told me his name was Peter Pan, promised to save me and take away my loneliness. Took me to a lost land away from reality, but instead of light all I saw was darkness. An endless tunnel with an overabundance of black, enclosed me, above, all I saw were charcoal skies, miserably mourning the forsaken moon and stars. Below, dull gloomy waters flowed surrounded by eerie black rats hiding amid onyx black roses, orchids and poisonous lilies, harbouring jet scorpions among demonic lethal black widow spider webs. Apprehensively, I ventured forward, blinded, but desperate to escape this dim dimension. Haunting voices of jet black crows reverberated like clarinets among creepy chilling shadows. Demonic creatures resembling gorillas and Tasmanian devils lurked, within this shady intimidating kingdom. As the temperature fell, satanic rain plummeted, with maniacal winds pushing me backwards. Suddenly through the misty atmosphere a magnificent saviour appeared in the vision of a black stallion., guiding me to a safe sanctuary, where light appeared. I opened my eyes.... My darkness had disappeared. 23 February 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

I The Mirror - With A Major Contribution By Joseph May - Dramatic Free Verse


an impression of the world
stands before me
Left is right, and right is wrong, 
and the mirror reflects a melancholy song.

i the mirror
not 
the babbling brook,
or
the rippled river
whose images tell harmless lies.

i
the mirror,
who was once held in the 
weak, shivering, hands of a life nearing its end
now lay
on broken, crushed bones, crumbs
and i 
one thousand shards
the cracks
the jaded moments of my life.

i 
an unintended semblance in the raging waters
crashing against the killing rocks of the rushing falls.

never utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"

the serpent swallows the swollen cow,
swallowed - the farmer's wife,
swallowed - her son,
swallowed - the thorny toad,
the black widow spider devours them all!


i the empty frame
the bits and bites of carpenter ants.

my world 
a perverse facade
of
what should of been
of
what 
is
of
what
was

or of
what? WHAT?
less?
i guess.

NEVER utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"

whose voice 
will bring me peace,
whose rapier 
will deliver me,

who will 
burn my body whole
or
dig me a deep hole
or
throw me void of soul

into 

the waters of the screaming ocean 
who herself dies a slow painful death.

Dec 20 2015
armand 
with a major contribution by
Joseph May

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Obsidian

An almost stillness came about
as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty

But her obsidian eyes betrayed her. 

Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
she looked at me, 
and I knew…

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Molten lava spilled forth from her mouth, melting our clocks—
eighteen hundred nightmares compressed in two hours.
Long hand moving forward, as the short hand moved backward
How can memories persist in such an acrid life?

She spoke of a beast in the guise of a man,
 one who ravaged innocence with the flick of a click
A coward that collected milk teeth for hardened bones
of other horny beasts with no spine

That throaty tenderness when she spoke 
sprinkled crystal seeds of frustration in me
She says he loathed him, denied she loved him
but her obsidian eyes betrayed her

There she was, a bud he plucked from the nuns’ garden
He grafted then he pruned her, 
spreading her pollen, wafting her scent
yet folding her petals to himself

Caterpillars feeding upon her leaves,
she lets them devour her,
yet once they are wrapped in their cocoons to sleep,
she stabs them with her thorns.

Tears then slid down from her midnight lace eyes
and it was all I could do to catch them
She said she was weary of curtailing butterflies,
of tearing their wings before they can even fly

I had to ask, how many… how many winged gems?
She lifted her sleeves, and showed me her scars
One ugly mark for each innocent child plunged deep,
my heart getting slashed at least three hundred a beat.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


A certain stillness came about
as I strode into her door,
like fear itself refused to move,
letting breath touch her mysterious beauty for the last time....

Her obsidian eyes had betrayed her. 

Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
I looked at the knife beside her.

Maroon-mapped sheets, a stunted womb.
 
Strains of Bon Iver’s “Flume”
flit past the sighing air like a butterfly,
and I knew…









08112014

Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Mother is Dove

Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.

Black woman proud woman
Your pride is not haughty
But a humble pride of eaglets;
Your black eyes are so glittering
As the eyes of our dark rivers
Filled with messages of peace
That banish the broody turmoil
From those panting hearts
Of your foreigned offsprings.

Gentle mother diligent mother
Your kindness kindles the fires
Of my heart –
Your dexterity dresses
The table of our ageless history
And the thought of your being
– Oh kind mother! –
Makes the most delicious menu 
For my heart.

I remember your naked feet
Fast and fair as a pigeon’s limbs
Treading the invisible paths
Almost covered by shrubs
Small shrubs misted by the prime mist.

I remember the wood from the wood 
The water from the water 
And manifold items from jungle alleys 
Borne by your delicate hands
And upon your soft black-haired head.

I remember the constant match 
To markets and to farms
And your bright face smeared with 
The ash dust
Making you more beautiful
Than any woman whose feet
Ever touched the naked earth.

I remember those burdens
Upon your cheerful kin-souls 
And babies strapped to your backs
Babes full of unspoken words
To unborn others in patient wombs
Waiting in an endless turn –
Indeed, mother is dove!
A black dove and a dark huntress
A hunter’s gift from the maker?

Mother is like a weaver-bird
Building a big foot-like nest
Filled with corn and warmth
A bundle of eagle-flight
Mother is dove
And the hunter calls her
The clan’s eternal dove.

Oh, mother loving woman 
Gentle as our black horizon
To you we humbly come
From these far and lonely lands
Hoping to grace our love and beauty
Before that jealous grave
Makes her temporary feast.

Copyright © Canny Amah | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

- Haunted Beauty -

 

The family had just moved into an old castle in Scotland; 
mother, father and their only daughter, Emmie, that they loved so deeply. 
Emmie was only 12 years old, and so innocent and beautiful. 
One night, she was woken up by a dripping sound; 
an echoing sound of water drops in a sink; 
rhythmic and terrifying. 
She sat on her bed, and suddenly appeared a free floating arc of strange light. 
It's that time of year again: Halloween night. 
Doors flew open and shut; strange voices and footsteps started. 
She was so frightened, that she almost threw up. 
Emmie made the sign of the cross, and plunged into a thicket of thorny wild roses. 
Terrified, excited and ready to run out of the house in 20 seconds, 
she overheard whispering words: "All beauty must die." 
The voice was so deathly, that it sent chills through her spine. 
It did not make it any better that it sounded too close to her ears. 
Her nightdress being torn by rose thorns like papers in a paper shredder, 
she ran as fast as she could; not back to the old castle, 
but away from the creepy voice, and strange events 
in the old castle. 
Exhausted, she searched for a place she could find rest 
"All beauty must die" the voice visited 
her unceremoniously once more. "What do you want from me? 
Is it wrong to be born beautiful? " 
she asked, wondering where she got her courage from. 
The energy to scream or run departed her, 
the moment she saw a woman dressed in white, 
levitating in the air, and moving towards her; 
a horrid face that carried the night's darkness, 
looked decayed, with worms crawling out from it. 
Remember this is a true story about Emmie; 
she gets chills just remembering the events of that night…… 





Contest: Halloween Co-Writes, By Diane Locksley

Poem Written by: Teddy Kimathi and Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved 

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

BLEEDING LOVE - COLLABORATION WITH POET DESTROYER A

JAN ALLISON Pierced by shards of shattered glass Deeper and deeper you stab me With lies and venomous words Dissecting my heart piece by piece Crushed like the petals of a withered rose I’m dying … Scarlet blood seeps into my very soul Drip Drip Drip Into pieces and a bloody mess I scarified secrets; Secrets you tore and tore, Gracing a fake friendship, Trust tossed like a sweaty towel Now karma a poisonous snake You plea ... To be on death row, decomposing Dripping into the night -- Silently fading and fading Stung by my viper lips, smiling grinning laughing Until you are no more A Poet Destroyer Collaboration Collaboration Celebration Contest 7th August 2015

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

THE VAMPIRE

For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Of blood.
Then reanimated as the living undead, in mine own image,
These are my forsaken children of the Night.
Kissed by the angel of death, I'm resurrections insurrection,
Spawned in hell a creature devoid of heart or soul, yet do I
Exist, biting at the exposed throat of humanity, leaving it
Drained completely dry.
Does not the white lily turn ember red, within this the
Valley of damnation.
My throne is a black coffin gilded in golden refinement,
Residing beneath the wooden lid, the beast sleeps,
Waiting to be embraced by the darkness of night.
Slowly, emerging from mine cryptic mausoleum,
I'm famished for the taste of the living essence
Of mankind.
A gentlemen reaper of the fallen, deeply do these
Fangs penetrate into the soft flesh of humanity,
Tis a dark blessing's supernatural gift, have I been 
So given, to take life then to restore it.
Raw beasts of instinct, clinging to the ethereal
Moon, that hangs above illuminating this,
Our unholy abyss.
Welcome to a shadow nation of the unseen,
Whose roots extend backwards, to an older country’s
Unconsecrated soil, called Transylvania. 
On mine legacies crest, a red dragon with talons
Extended reaches out, grappling for powers control.
For I am Dracula, born of royal blood in life,
But in death I am a king, let these castle walls
Bleed on forever, and the hounds of hell,
Sing outside my rod iron gates.
But beware mortal flesh if you so enter,
For I will enjoy every trespasser,
Whom dares to venture within my
Sacred territory, with a fiendish smile
Upon my hungering face.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Forbidden Love

Is it possible that an angel and a demon could fall in love?
And, remain soul mates for all eternity?
Yes, and I will tell you how it happened.

Maybe, it was a miracle that they met
or maybe it was just meant to be.
That an angel fell out of heaven and a demon escaped from hell
on the very same day.
They saw no one, but each other.
Yet, neither had ever seen such a creature.

The angel was beautiful and kind.
This angel had fallen from heaven
a place of light and life, and of hope and peace.

The demon was imperfect and shy.
This demon had escaped from hell
a place of darkness and death, and of despair and pain.

When they met, their eyes met.
And without a spoken word.
The angel saw only tenderness and hurt in this lost demon.
The demon saw only compassion and love in this lost angel.

It did not matter to them if one had wings, and the other had horns.
Yet, they saw themselves within each other.
Even though they were from two different worlds.
They embraced each other.
Though, they knew their love was forbidden by others like themselves.
So, they decided to remain here on earth.
Where their bond could not be broken.

The heart of the angel was no longer filled with loneliness and longing.
The heart of the demon was no longer filled with torment and sorrow.
Love is what they both were searching for.
And it was found on that very same day.
A forbidden love, everlasting for all eternity.



Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Sombre November rain

It won't stop raining dismal, forlorn murky skies above similar to a depressed painter's palette bring torrent outbursts becoming heavier and heavier descending louder and louder drowning me in a deluge of emotions soaking the sanity from my drenched soul Sombre November rain is always different colder and sinister like a virus rapidly spreading poisoning my body with intense anxiety battering me like a hail of bullets in the line of fire Twilight is swallowed by blackness briskly stars illuminate, as the moon glows but nature continues to immerse me bathing like a forced baptism How I long for a glimpse of the sun to shelter but there is no sign of a rainbow any time soon The Silent One 17 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

PLAYGROUND MEMORIES

Nobody observes her leaving her room wearing just her nightdress and red felt carpet slippers Shuffling silently she slips out of the front door onto the street Rivulets of rain start to soak her to the skin Her straggly hair hangs down limply It becomes so matted and twisted Soon it looks like writhing snakes are alive on her skull Her once pretty face is now lined and wrinkled Rain drips off the crevices and onto her sagging breasts Wandering off into the night she begins searching Walking the empty streets with her arms outstretched Searching, searching, desperately searching Eventually she reaches the children’s playground Sitting on a swing she rocks backwards and forwards The rhythmic movement seems to calm her down Tears form in her eyes and mingle with the raindrops Strong arms hold her and she is powerless to resist She hears voices telling her she must return home ‘We knew you’d eventually find your way here Maisie It’s time to return to the sanatorium … In future we will make sure the door alarm is activated’ 10~19~15 N/A in previous contest Submitted to screwed XI Sponsored by Rob Carmack Sponsor Nathan D

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Halloween's Evil Visage Cometh

Halloween’s Evil Visage Cometh

Halloween’s Evil Visage Cometh now alive in this famous predestined time
Where dubious shadow shades run a riot as the ghastly ghosts of darkness,
Begin calling to all goblins, ghosts, ghouls, and witches in the graveyards;
To come alive—as black cats call out their signals to all lost souls seeking, 
Powerful black magic spells to aid the spirits of ancient alchemists as they
Brew their potions to dull the senses and conjure all the evil spirits on Earth.  

A falling silver-layer mist appears as these uncanny evil spirits invade our
Mortal plane and lost ghosts appear as hungry human skeletons looking for 
Sustenance and seem to be horrified at the stillness broken by a death-cold.
They scream as bloodless fingers touch cold shivers without a warm heart; 
And who knows for sure the sad and mournful song from an ancient grave,
As “The Undead” conjure ravenous demons seeking warm blood to feast on. 

Blended into the dust are the crows whose shadows as a “Dark Phantom,”
Begin to form and take his shape—yet fear not the potent occult light as
That special Halloween Eve super moon beams brilliant and bright making  
Its presence known as your destiny and destination are already decided as
The Ancient Alchemist beckons all of us to drink widely from his mystical
Chalice of Darkness as all malice is reconciled—the birds and beasts speak.
 
Life as we know it is offered upon the Demonic Alter as the Dark Phantom
Initiates all human sacrifices as a drool-dripping envy of all existence drops; 
And the lustful and vengeance-seeking Vampires scrape along the walls as
Sharp poisonous thorns begin tearing behind their secret inner-vision as the 
Deep-dark and dismally-damp curtains open and eclipse the radiant dawn as
An unpleasant and horrible pain visits and our heartbeats grow faint and stop.

An unending agony screams sonorously as a deafening silence falls over us. 
In this “Land of the Dead,” they make their own laws overwriting all limits,
As a vile, creeping, malevolent mist crawls down into the valley deep below; 
The Devil's Advocate slithers on in a nasty, vicious way under your own skin,
As shivering timbers of truth of a living being watches outside our bodies on 
This Halloween Eve as our individual dreams enter the Twilight Zone forever! 

The Devil’s clever wizards and witches concoct an ancient poisonous mixture,
As the boiling cauldron of demonically-enhanced soup is stewed with care and 
Fresh toads, spiders, worms, beetles, ticks, and tiny black snakes are added in.
This unholy and potent poisoned soup from centuries past is now blessed by
The Dark One—to take life from the living and give nourishment to the dead,
As the veil between The Living and The Dead disappears on Halloween Eve!   

Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 1, 2015) (Free Verse)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Forbidden castle

Crows gather around the mysterious, abandoned castle, 
Its bastions and towers drowning within a mournful silence. 
Ghostly shadows loom within the dungeons and the murder holes, 
Screams of perished souls are locked within the castle walls. 

Long it has stood there upon a mountain of tempestuous winds, 
Withholding a secret from haunting years past. 
Stones big, dark and looming, an ancient evil lurks inside, 
Creeping through each room, an eeriness unexplained.

Each corridor discloses a tale of bloodshed on that dreaded night, 
when the devil sent his descendants to run havoc amongst the mortals. 
The bitter queen who summoned them did not live to confess the tragedy, 
She took her life, witnessing all before her slaughtered including the adulterous king.

As a child, I had heard countless legends of the forbidden castle, 
Of the torture chambers and the merciless beheading of the accused innocent. 
Many have warned, “Beware…stay away…” and now I stand before the entrance,
The devilish crows watching knowingly, as if they foresee my fate.

“Beware the snares in the dark, for Death grins, awaiting your coming…”


13 August 2015.

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

In the Dark of the Strand

Marquees bright, and neon lights, where crowds line up for movie night
We're holding hands, we're in 'The Strand', red velvet carpets guide us in

Popcorn smokes, .. drinking cokes,...  cracking jokes with Bing and Hope
Lamour's along, in her sarong,... With luscious lips, and cigarettes, 
She fills ashtrays with smoking tips, and tosses guys like poker chips


         'Movietone'  intrudes with news, which puts us in somber mood
         Third-Reich goosesteps  march again,  ... an evil presence in the wind...


Cary Grant , (a news reporter),  loves his girl, and his typewriter
"His Girl Friday", plot is witty, sometimes crazy.  But Cary loves this ditzy lady.... 

William Powell and Mryna Loy..., Asta barks, and finds a toy, ...a ploy? a clue?,....
...an earring gold.  The mystery is clearly solved.--  A crimson sun, is rising cold!


        Movietone in black and white,... graphic scenes, where soldiers die


Another night, suspense on chart.  'Correspondent' ,  Joel McCrea. 
Saves Lorraine, and claims the Day.  BUY WAR BONDs !! They'll pave the way

Bogart, Bergman bring to light, a valiant flght , within their grasp
Airline ticket, in her hand, they must part, and do what's right, no questions asked

----

          It's movie night, but you aren't here, a troopship took you far from here
           Allied troops are moving tanks.  I wait for you..God give me strength




       I'm in the Strand, within the dark,  there's no one here to hold my hand

       I'm all alone...........I heard the news....................You left it all in Anzio




_____________________________________
For Contest Chopped III Sponsored by Craig Cornish
11/23/14

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Slaughtered Innocence



The hideous and the humble
Blood peppers falling snow
As world hurtles to the tipping point
Life chokes on ignited air
Wrenching love from hungry mouths
Stars fall without sound
Some weep helpless, day through night
Ever wondering how
Never knowing why ...

Copyright © Patricia L Graham | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Haunted

A hole in the head shooting pain trembles
nightshades coldly down the spine
a soul lost in the land of the living
carried away in darkness
flying inside dark clouds holding just a dream

Distant thunder roars lightening splitting cracks
sure as the crow flies crawling opens Hell's gates
dark jewels of the night
charred remains churning in a cauldron
boiling goodness tears of thoughts

Piercing screams spawning nightmares
holding a promise once made
walking in a valley amongst the dead
shadows now smile hearing animals scream
as the moon plays silver dancing light

Dreams snatched away from reality
the crow calls echoes in silence
victims of this world howling over and back
tragedy cries in their pain and suffering
eyes seeking light
whispers through the branches
a heather bleat creature of the night calls

Haunted by humans chained to the earth
awaiting shadows and sunsets 
a cursed banshee wails supernatural screams 
from everywhere and nowhere

Mind numbing winds passing through
a white silhouette shredded shroud
around a heart entombed
in agonies' twilight shades clouds darken
storms brewed stirring specters chase the wind

Cold rains become lost tears
the willow weeps in eternal sorrows
a lament for the dead
as the silver crescent moon smiles goodbye

Blends in clear as day after sunrise
forgotten in a valley of unrest
death bell's toll out from the past
onyx feathered crows call painful cries

Forever seeking heaven's gate now sealed
that promised choice was lost ages ago
only burning Hell fires
or cold earthworms await




Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

- To Deal With Demons -



Wake up in my real world
Forever condemned in dark shadows
Release the power of demons
No light ... a black nothing, bats enjoying the place
Their fangs are the tools of their lust for human flesh and blood
The demons have chosen me to give birth to their children
It is not love
Brutal rape
Chained in their power
Inferno of fire, blood, death and hell
My days are numbered
Whoever betrays the demons get to taste the whip
A nightmare twenty four hours a day
Even in my dreams, they haunt my soul
Attacked of demons I am
My psyche is completely collapsed
Find myself in a pure terror condition
I would rather want to die as soon as possible,
than to fight the demons
The animal is the Devil himself









15.03.2016
A-L Andresen :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,

I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,
I have heard the tales of horror, from my dark skinned foes.
I have heard the tales of terror, from others who became my friends.
And I have walked with a dark skinned woman of their tribe.
We walked in the beauty of her courage, together. Tearless. 
Tearless we both were as she spoke, for tears, only gods could cry for her.
I am a Red Skin dog.
And yet we walked together and we talked – together, fearless,
I and this swaying ebony sapling, sprung from the roots of my foes tribe.
We talked of the pitiless reality of that life she left behind, of that time
That she has left, far, far behind, like a useless scar
That has toughened over. And made her stronger. 
I learned from this daughter of my foes
That true courage is never fearless, but always stronger. Victorious,
Stronger she was by far, to this Red Skin dog
Than the thousand sons who died, in her honor. So they say. Ridiculous,
But I have heard the balance of their sins.
And for all the tales I have heard from those angry young men, and their vengeful fathers
Her horror was a thousand times more sinister. A thousand times more callous.
Horror took up residence in her home but never in her heart.
But for others, I cannot speak.
“…splinters and bursting fragments…in my mind
Ai! Tearing! Memory of tearing flesh, swallowing tears and mucus, blood and bile
…bruising and ripping garments…off my body
…filthy, familiar hands tearing at my dress…
…my legs split and broken like a wild pig slaughter, my screams smashed from my lips,
With the butt of a rifle, just used to kill a Red Skin dog…
Aieee! Clean this floor mama, mop up this spew!
It cannot be mine!
This child is not mine!
It is not mine! It is the devils own creation born in hell fire!
Born in my death! 	
Aieee! I am dead, I cannot be alive. 
I am dead and the Red Skin dogs have eaten my corpse.
Those spirits in their wingless chariot flew over the land and sea, to rescue me?
Rescue me from that black devil who said he was like Jesus to me.
I thought you were my uncle-brother…
Who else could have found us here?
Hidden away from the Red Skins and their Wingless Angels.
Only you my uncle-brother
Only you could have found us
Only you could have killed us.
And now the progeny of your evil deed suckles at my breasts
As I lie dead in the home of those Red Skin dogs you fought.”

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

In Shadows Beyond Reason

Beyond the iron gate, alone I read your name, through tall weeds, grown A vigil, where the mossy stones Cleave to breast of wasted years I feel you standing here with me Deep in the dark, where I am drawn Where whimpering trees, brown grass and weeds Are weeping in the morning's rain There is a web, that pulls me in That tugs at me with silken thread A withered garland, black with dread Calling me to hear the wind Where dust to dust, of what has been Is quietude, and vague recall That falters in the falling leaves Yet alters what I've always known I know I loved you long ago It comes from you, in thin-leafed songs Two centuries old, and can't be seen Shadowed by the granite years Behind the gates where you have lain Sharing earth with dried up tears Defying time that lies between I see your name, through tall weeds, grown A vigil now, where mossy stones Bring with them all the wasted years Between us now, I feel the cold Defying lucid reasoning
_____________________________________________________

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

EDGER ALL POE

Our dark founding father, of American literature,
A sinister beacon of darkness, lighting the way
Into the darkened abyss of mankind’s soul.
Within the galleria of madness, he is the
Grandmaster of the black ink, and it's
 Written words of terror.
In thus the shadow realm, does his spirit
Still roam, on the cutting edge of fear,
A fine thin line, is drawn between reality,
And fictions illusionary world.
Life's a shunned, abandonment’s creation,
The lord's misbegotten son, embraced
The night's cloak, in it's power
His only salvation unto history's
 Remembrance, is found a truth's
Justice and notability's respect.
Loves passionate compliant servant,
Dashed against the rocks of life itself,
Broken and damaged, he rose above
The waves of poverty, and the under
 Current of tragedies broken
Heart.
Some may say he wrote from the after
Effects that laid, at the bottom
 Of the bottle.
Or afterfeeds drug endued comma, dulling
The emotional nerves concept between
Right and wrong, the social exceptionable
Norm.
But we care not what others wish to believe,
For we honor him, those of us the dark poets,
As the father whom lead the way, between
Light and dark.
Dearest Edger Allen Poe, the legend, the man,
A spiritual dark representative, with pens quailed
Ink at his command.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



















Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Time's Loving Deceit

Anger flies with swift wings
As tedious pleas for more time reverberate through his mind
He is the servant of Time- yet takes the blame
When her clawed hand unwinds the clock
He, the sovereign of the dark, the one and only truth!
Is at the front of the onslaught of screams

He moves soundlessly, a shadow in the world
Tormented whispers scattering around him
Fear spreading wildfires' shrill promise
Mercy, a withering carcass in a crude burial
He became Hope's last regret
When he became the prince of darkness,
Forgoing all he once was, and all he could have been 

When he sailed away from home, his love for Time burned
He had loved her, caressing her supple frame
Faithfully staying by her side,
And Time managed to wrap her cruel talons 
Around his frozen heart
Dwindling him down to nothing more, than abject self-loathing
And she trapped him within her bondage, for eternity
Now he wanders, over and over again in his servitude
 A trapped guardian of the dark

The fog horn groaned its complaint of “too.late”
Under darkened sea that once birthed horizon
And Hark! a maelstrom of black ink 
Behold its terrific evil and terror! 
A swirling whirlpool announcing you-have-been-fooled
And the cries of fright forever ruled
Scream in delight—“He suffers our fate…in pain we celebrate!”

He no longer looked along the swirls in terror
But was now part of its ferocious cycle
Tears mixing with the agonizing laughter
Amidst salty moans and tepid sweat
 
Soon… exhausted by the chaos… he sank into a most foggy pit
Ashamed, naked, barren of all past wit
A cowardly frame, shivering in unknown terrain
Inside a place where Time is gone….
But always looming in the brain….

As the errant fogs lift,
The grizzled trees’ feet curl in sensuous fervor of the cold
He envies e’en the trees, with heartless relish of their misty exhalations

Under shuttery breath he no longer truly breathes,     … he sighs…
Might I never reach the heights of even the mel-lowed fog? 
Shall I burn upon the dead leaves, rising only to fall?

From that day forward,
He wandered blindly
Both loving and loathing pulsing tempos of silence 

“I’m still in love…” He whispers softly. “Oh how I am in love…”
The dark that once befriended him almost smiles now…
…then why do I feel so alone?
The wind blows in almost an unnerving jeer
A cool wisp enunciating Time’s uncouth rejection
For she loved no one, yet all
Loving with a cruel wish to watch the other fall
How many has she taken, he would never know
For in shadow comes confusion and woe
—and the voices he hears do not sound of his kind
But who am I? What am I? 
A slave in Time’s forever grind…

8/30/12
A very special collaboration with Rebecca Larkin

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Dark Side of You

I could not write poetry
till I was brain damaged
a life of shame, abuse
no good to anyone, oh yes and of no use
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Memories dreams are of that time,
many a mile we accomplished
amongst the grey stones
the bricks the muck
hiding behind the dark side of you.

I use to spend many hours
just looking for inspiration at the sky the ocean,
hear the rushing water
and in simplicity feel the gentle rain
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Why oh why should I wear this affliction
I’ve been many things in my life
that, which never stops creaking
lives here in one’s head
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Yesterday’s events were so different
penetrated my head my heart my soul
regarding earth’s greatest feats,
mainly war and of its dead
hiding behind the dark side of you.

The media’s strength used by the subtle
Oh! The mind control
tuned to sporadic applause
swells admiration for their efforts
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Truth complemented occasionally
then smashed into smithereens,
the pieces in abundance 
having lived a life of torment
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Oh Soup!  Quiet haven away from it all
aids to adorn my memories, just,
love, one hears and reads about every single day
helps no doubt this victim of society’s goals
hiding behind the dark side of you.

© Harry J Horsman 2013   

Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Songs of power Paint it black

My mind is not at peace with the world an unhealed wound constantly violated by horrific memories that won't leave strange voices are driving me insane feeling deranged with paranoid thoughts my soul is in a dark place with no spirit emotionally drained - love is destitute physically weak - living but feeling dead existing like a cowardly wounded animal PTSD - combat fatigue, disorder, neurosis so many different names but no antidote no cure - the medication doesn't dull the pain my body is a cage to my fractured brain forever stuck in that traumatic moment unable to move past - an eternal nightmare struggling to acclimatise back to a social life drugs and alcohol cannot kill the ghosts slowly dragging others with me into despair run far away from me - my days are numbered contemplating an end - painting it black The Silent One 11 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015