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Spring Dark Poems | Spring Poems About Dark

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

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Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

quaternity

so far the days of singing rays
have come to meet their sullen end
twixt nights of joy with hidden ploy
a sweetly tone, they do offend

O gasp! the serpent true must strike
O gasp! the lustful raging psych
whose cares are lost forever long
roaring out, O hear my song!

now mute...peace...whist...still
ideas soon drain, decisions fill
a mind at pace with thoughts that spill
float soundlessly thy solstice chill

the misty seep, foreboding reap
emotions run amok like thieves
for darkly cast, a favored past
along is lain misguided leaves

-Sam Robinson

 Iambic Tetrameter


Details | Lyric | |

Nature's Sigh

The Black butterfly waves away her adorations
All she seeks is seclusion, subsuming slave to mortification
The Dear Air is all she can breath, captive of imaginary dreams
The Beacon resonates, but the hope isolates
The Wasteland's silky fingers caressing the virgin's face

So she is now, the covet of the damned
Programmed to every victim's pain
Carrying the weight of every sorrow
Drowning in wrongs she does not know
But paradise is at loss; she must go

Nature sighs after the bite
All my hopes fading
Don't look at me with those sorrowful eyes
How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?
I'm just the ghost flower passing by
And you can hear nature's sigh


Details | Imagism | |

DARK SKIES

The wind crept up - the skies ever so dark
Black, slick, clouds and calamity enters thy soul
Dreary! It chatters and limbs they fly
No sun upon thy face - beaming with hue
Those clouds they swarm in darkness
Rain - it pours - flooding the earth
Bewildered I look up at this blustering sky
The trees are dead, It's spring - yes death
Roses in the ground with the trickling raindrops
The April showers - You haven't a clue
True grit! The soil now nurtured
The roots - feeding on this phenomena
And yet when the sun shines soon
Day after day - trees will come to life
And roses in bloom- life after winter death
In awe I see this beautiful imagery
In my brain, as I see the pouring rain
My mind - I visualize - the beauty
Thus, why does it expose calamity?
Beauteous be the wonder in my eyes
And how I love those dark dreary skies
A rosebud in my teeth - I see
Is extraordinary and so is the tree
Let there be rain as it nurtures the soil
And with the chatter of the wind, let there be turmoil 
Again in my brain, I can truly love this day
I see life in the rain that is pouring today.


Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet



Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.


Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.


Details | I do not know? | |

BACKSTREETS OF PARIS - Monsieur L'Vampyre

BACKSTREETS OF PARIS -  MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE
One spring and sunny day I set my sight
behind my darkened lenses, feigning night,
so I might stroll in my own way
and see what's life in light of day,
my thread put to my back, I travelled light;

when Paris comes to all its greenery,
there's not a sight that means so much to me
as flowers holding to the hair
of Mademoiselles out ev'rywhere,
and laughing children, that's how life should be.

The beat of Paris leads a steady pace
and if you stop, you're holding up the race
there's not enough time in a day
to walk all of Champs Elysees
and so you miss the smile of ev'ry face.

But there are places few would care to go
with streets so narrow, darkness is the glow,
where yesterday's not in the past,
but here and now, and here to last,
with cobble stones laid many years ago;

a world of silence, far from natures care,
a place of echoes, snapping here to there;
the signs of life flow past your feet
and to the Seine, just down the street,
but leaves its scent, it's with you ev'rywhere.

This is a time, more than a place to be,
the soul of Paris few can ever see,
the very secrets of her heart,
where light of Paris had its start,
and left here for the very likes of me.

You hear her whisper in the mid of day,
or you might hear a concertina play,
but all that's Paris surely lies
right here for you before your eyes,
and it's the dream Parisians want to stay.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Free verse | |

Cold Fingers

I look out my window
No longer white and fluffy 
The snow has turned a sickly gray
Much like my mood towards this season of death
Tired of dark clouds and cold winds
The birds are wise to abandon this desolate place
I dream of sunshine and blue sky
Running barefoot across green grass
Smelling the fresh scent of spring breezes
Lazy days of summer accompanied by young lovers
For now I am a prisoner in a cold land
Wrapped in my blanket staring out at the gray
Nothing seems to warm the coldness that has invaded my soul
Old man winter has stolen another day 
I wait and I wait
Time seems to move in reverse
Is there any escape?
Yes
I go to my computer
Warm weather awaits me
Just a click a way
Visions of spring dance in my head
I can cheat on winter
Escape cold fingers
I can fly away to some exotic warm land
Run through Sun drenched waves
Drink umbrella drinks
I can follow those clever birds
I long for this escape
Just four hours away
I arrive at the airport bags in hand
Feeling oppromistic
Then comes a storm
Old man winter refuses to release his icy grip
I look out the airport window
The snow covered runway is pure white
All flights cancelled
A block of ice where my heart used to be
How I long for spring

Winter Be Gone Contest
Poem written January 27th for your contest.


Details | Verse | |

The Eves of May

Maelstrom, O thou devil 
Slither past last March then unto April
Into the eves and ides of May 

Thou cannot hide, but thou wilt try
To disguise thy age old blackness
Forsake what once were brighter skies
Stranglehold; sane extraction

And the spills of night
A new tone deafness
Burning oil; sentiment molasses 
Bringing storms that cloud minds human and fragile 

Spheres of moonlit halos
Become, no more than serpent spies
Peeking through faultlines of life
Dancing about to the madness limbo

One lost soul...
Shipwrecks against a sea
And there too does the twist of tango
Eyes of the deep; tentacles, touching me

Elsewhere, the raven flies repetition
Into glass windows
Blood stains upon a faceless mask
Drowns out the cries and the conscience

Of feathers blacker that lie strewn
Are the questions I have asked 
And the answers I cannot have

Let slip feigned breath of man beneath
A gargle from the cold tunnel brine
What's left surrenders alter to its evil
And nothing is, to evermore survive

And the eves and ides of May 
Are Saran gas upon a mass of land
Men of desparation hunger 
Eating flesh of man much meeker

And thou wilst not again
Glimpse thy rival sun
Nor when it comes, goes 
Or finality, when it finds its done

Inspired by the madness of Poe
That which is locked within us all


Details | Verse | |

ARRIVAL OF NIGHT

Huddled seagulls fearlessly, serenely
nap early ignoring calamity;
dark offers safety generously...
night arrives silently, mysteriously.  
This lighthouse's brilliance constantly
lures captains avoiding distraction,
but hastily captivated: ambition
and desire palpitate intensely. 


Entered in nette onclaud's contest,
 " The Lighthouse "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 9/24/2014


Details | Free verse | |

Return to the Womb

Down in to the darkness deep
Slowly and delicately I now edge
In to the warmth so cold and bleak
In to the womb I once resided
In the mother I’d idolized
Wondering what did happen
Wondering what had changed
What had caused such death?
To cause such pain?
Still slowly moving, sneaking, 
I started faintly weeping
Why would we cause this?
Why did we not see?
Still I inch, well tears did fall
Till a light I did spy
Till a sprig I now cradle
Now I see, as I gently stop my deplore,
My mother will forgive
All the hurt,
The hate,
All the people that did denounce,
All she has provided
All that she cherishes
Yet she now grants;
Redemption 
Forgiveness
Unconditional love
All in the loud roar
Of spring


Details | Free verse | |

Newness Of Spring

Chirup, Chirupup is now gone away 
For the Cricket now sleeps in the deep woods
Deep down under a bed of dry decaying leaves
Awaiting the spring's warmth to call__ come

Out across the now no-fence pasture
Lies a giant pan of Rice Krispies cookies
White on tan the dead crispt grass made so by the cold hoary frost
Chilled so that it groans from the cold penetrating deep within the ground

The whole earth awaits that warm sun who takes his time
Slowly slipping back closer up, up, up to the Northern Hemisphere
Will spring come to renew or will those deep woods remain dark and deep
Inviting all eyes to see inside the open venerable vault of clearing

Those dark deep woods encourage exploring
To clear away all the tangled briars, dead barren ideas that need purging
Open clear up those winter woods for new growth of spring
New ideas on which to encourage the grow of the poetic mind 

Been in winter long enough in that cold barren woods
Trapped in the cold lingering by the fire of hearth's contentment
Now is the time to escape_be fresh new
Spring _bring on the novel





Details | Light Poetry | |

Your Glory inside

When I lay down the night before,
I woke up to find Your Glory inside,


When I woke up to find Your Glory inside,
I bowed down at Your feet,


I crossed over the Jordon and fell at Your feet.
I Praise You now and Praised You then,

When I woke up to find Your Glory inside,

how wonderful now when I woke to find,


Your Hand in mine,
Your my Hope Lord,

Your my desire,
My Savior,My King.


One day,when I lay my head down,

I will wake up to find,

Your Glory inside!


Written by:©Betty Bolden


2-26-04


All poems are copyright©!


Details | Free verse | |

Oh Sojourner

Oh Sojourner

By Ingrid Showalter Swift

 

Oh Sojourner
 
Walk among the tall lithe pines as they sway 

beneath

subtle hues of lavender’s dusk 

Reach your illuminas fingers 
with polished nails a-glittered 
in crystal-ed gold and diamond sight 
out and into this thrusting long light
         …Searing a golden pathway from sky into dark walnut and pine and lines of 
these byways ..only angels and devils alone ...dare tread

This forest is a barrier thin enough to breech
so teach me!.....I plead of you.... 

with lips blazing ... the need to speak volumes…like  heat rising 

Make me  a lit oiled lamp on a tall white post 
singing out ...streaming out into the streets gray toned and grayed with the 
beating 
of the merciless weakness ...of humanity 

lead me to hope….. yet still more
and pray

daring out …the dark night 

yearning for just yet another... lilt hearted singular spring day to awaken within 
the gates of this immortal town
held aloft by bone cavern and pale flesh tenting

Let  light green springs erupt from me once more 
and flow through all I meet 
like the river shows the leaf to the ocean and then to the shore once more


Details | I do not know? | |

My Madness, Me

My Madness, Me...


Confined by this straight-jacket,
strapped in, numb and dumbed,
a washed-out, has-been, also-ran,

body, eyes, the equilibrium of mind,
rattling like stones in an old tin-can.


Still, I am, 

I am,

and I am unchained,

my dreams taking flight, soaring,
above these claustrophobic walls,
of synapses, and dungeons of stone,

swooping through green valleys,
taking a detour to savour the joys,

soaked in torrential, evergreen memories,
of a younger man, with passion in his bone.

I am.

My wings unclipped, unshackled, free,

I am, and though I am unable to see,

I am.

At long last,

me...



Details | Limerick | |

Happy

To die before you die is worse then death itself.
Time doesn’t stop as you are sprung backwards.
Now you have to climb forward. 
Desperately yearning to revert to your normal self.
Desperately wanting something to spring you back to where you were, happy. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Has Spring Sprung

Can't seem to get off to sleep tonight, thoughts buzzing around my old head,
It's dark and quiet, the cat has gone out and the street lights have gone out too,
The odd car passes by maybe coming home from friends or a night on the town,
Could be on the way back from a restaurant a Chinese, or picking up family?

Looking at the calender I see we are getting into mid March and days are longer,
Could it be that the winter has lost its sharp teeth and the might of frosts gone,
A thousand welcomes to Spring but it cannot bring back youth or thicken my hair,
Or enable us to offer the first gathered violets to dear souls in their heavens.

The fowled of the farm yard lay, the pheasants crow in the copse the ring dove coos,
The linnet and the gold finch sing while man looks to fences and drains and water levels,
Next is ploughing and sowing, pruning and planting and talking of good years gone,
Spring stirs all with her mighty influence from the depths of the soil and heart.

So spring is with us and she will throw off one dark and gloomy coat after another,
And spring will chase away winter with his hardly wrinkled face and keen eye for beauty,
It is march rough yet pleasant, vigorous and strong with hope and strength and lovely voice,
His gales will come rushing and sounding over forest and lea and shake nature wide awake.

The tacamahac shows off its long furry green catkins, the mezereon its clustered blossoms,
Then the splendid red China rose unfolds itself to the fresh air, and green pastures return,
Coltsfoot and cardamine embellish old fallows and the star of Bethlehem gleams in the woods,
Crocus spreads around like a purple flood over the old established meadows, spring is sprung.


Details | Verse | |

If Jesus Asks

IF JESUS ASKS


Dew on the grass
Wants to disappear
As a day wakes up
Frightened by the red eyes of sun.

Again all those men
Will remain tireless
For some more hours.
Sharp arrows from their mind
Defeated-
Distance on the earth,
Boundary of the of universe,
Pride of stars being alone,
Even the game fate plays.
But today’s day is tired.

That green tree
Standing naked in a landscape
Used to
Sunbath during winter,
Play with wind on stormy days,
A born again make up
As spring bade good bye,
Or get drenched in rain
Like a farmer’s son.
Old days have enjoyed them all.
That green tree
No more there,
City’s claw has removed,
Roots of its existence.


Is it only that lonely tree
Has been killed by city life!
Did not you see the tears of ocean!
Her tides,
Like a beloved lady
Wanted to wipe out
All weariness of humankind.
And in exchange
Modern life poisoned her heart
With all its senselessness.

When the day,
Wants to hide her face,
From shame.
Men are still preying,
What else is remaining?
What else is  faraway?

When daylight disappears,
They declare
Now penguin’s blood is our subject matter.
Or if this world becomes a bomb in fire
Then we shall hire
Our extraterritorial neighbor
To settle us in space shuttle,
Above the earth atmosphere.
So, the day unwilling to wake up any more.
Only the red eye of sun wakes her up.

Remember how morning birds
Use to sing melodies,
To wake her up.
All that resonance is missing,
As dew fell from leaves to leaves.
Glorious smile of shining water drops
On a lotus leaf
Cry alone now.
Misses how pleasant was twilight’s tune.
In today’s day
Who is there has time for them all.

But every year
There are seminars
To declare
Those entire glorious chapters
Sun, moon, even heaven is not too far.
And many more
All are in the memory of a computer.
But today’s day
Redeye of sun wakes her up.

She doubts,
Are men no more sacred now!
Yes;
May be like polluted water,
As sacred from holy Ganga river.

So one day,
Jesus asks to the heart of mankind,
You have achieved so much,
Your glorious days are here,
Then why you still keep me crucified!
For how many centuries
Shall I remain!

Human child knows age-old answer
‘Its your greatness
To remain there,
So we worship!’

Only red eyes of sun
Wakes another day up.
A day -
No dew falling on her lap.



A poem by GOUTAM HAZRA





Details | Free verse | |

ALLURED BY AURORAL GLEAMS

Light alters the ambiance 
of all that is seen;
the accelerating clouds escape
 while a distant trumpet,
embodying the allegro beat,
arranges beautiful arias
that ascend like orchards' pink petals 
unaware of us
watching as they enter
 the radiant atmosphere...  
look up, those fading stars adore them! 
Against the igneous rocks algae cling,
empty boats err 
without any stirring;
anguish for one heart awaiting night...
opening her eyes,
she allows fears   
and tears ignoring the ardent moonlight:
again lonely, allured by auroral gleams!  
    
    


            


Details | Free verse | |

dark horse

the year is as spring as you are regardless 
the fall hasn’t passed
love, loss, encore
the year is spring and buds threaten bloom
hesitant, having to a waiting
to that oncoming
that a felt cool, autumn wind 
tiny’s  leaves tight to say, “No, not yet”
the world sits wanting
breathless 
happy to bait your summer rivaled, hired limo
not enough money can take you home 
when you’re whole lot a walkin’ is a walkin’ the earth
only a few of us out here no that kind of tread
the year is spring as you are baby
and you’re usually right ‘bout that


Details | Free verse | |

Roses

She glances
From afore does she stare
Poised passive without motion
Petals grace and glance in glimmer
Dans la roseraie de la vue
Attractive allure into light's lust 
Marinating morning's delectable dew
Entwined is she in the rose's vine
Flowered fluorescence enclosed eloped
Claret joues et l'éclat rose
From the bud doth she now call
Flowered glances doth pollen pose
She glances...
Coeur brisé


Details | Verse | |

Color Blind in Northern Spring

They told me before I left the south
Son, the snow gets kind of dirty down here
And eyes find a fence against the glare
But boy, I see you hankering to go out
And your face be turned north for its spring
And your heart beats after the birds on wing
You long to go where cageless a man can sing
But remember in any mountain the bear's king.

You should have seen me the first I saw snow
White and unblemished, my faith fluttered high
I could not stop staring at the thing if I did try
The light rose from it and seared me in its glow
My vision shattered like glass, too small to cut
The rope dangling above that pit in my gut
And then I looked till liberty was like a slut
And I was old tom shuffling to peace in my hut

I saw the skin's color, alright. The bloodless snow
But I did not see that nature is deeper than skin
Or that innocence must precede each coming sin
When the eyes were wide shut, could I still know?
I was blinded by the light to believe some drop of it
Was still so good, and then captured by the spirit
I felt I should, to some egalitarian faith, commit
Since deep dark is like looking at close and brightly lit

In neither can one tell red from brown, or green
From blue, but I have how even shapes disappear
When the white feathers of frost are strewn here,
There and everywhere: the snow swallows the stare
Of my man who cannot feel the wilderness cold
Seeping through cramps and feet, no sunset gold,
No rust of morning, nor dark of night, we can hold
One beam of faith to support the brightly blinded soul.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Has Spring Sprung

Can't seem to get off to sleep tonight, thoughts buzzing around my old head,
It's dark and quiet, the cat has gone out and the street lights have gone out too,
The odd car passes by maybe coming home from friends or a night on the town,
Could be on the way back from a restaurant a Chinese, or picking up family?

Looking at the calender I see we are getting into mid March and days are longer,
Could it be that the winter has lost its sharp teeth and the might of frosts gone,
A thousand welcomes to Spring but it cannot bring back youth or thicken my hair,
Or enable us to offer the first gathered violets to dear souls in their heavens.

The fowled of the farm yard lay, the pheasants crow in the copse the ring dove coos,
The linnet and the gold finch sing while man looks to fences and drains and water levels,
Next is ploughing and sowing, pruning and planting and talking of good years gone,
Sprimg stirs all with her mighty influence from the depths of the soil and heart.

So spring is with us and she will throw off one dark and gloomy coat after another,
And spring will chase away winter with his hardly wrinkled face and keen eye for beauty,
It is marxh rough yet pleasent, vigorous and strong with hope and strength and lovely voice,
His gales will come rushing and sounding over forest and lea and shake nature wide awake.

The tacamahac shows off its long furry green catkins, the mezereon its clustered blossoms,
Then the splendid red China rose unfolds itself to the fresh air, and green pastures return,
Coltsfoot and cardamine embellish old fallows and the star of Bethlehem gleams in the woods,
Crocus spreads around like a purple flood over the old established meadows, spring is sprung.


Details | Narrative | |

Spring Cleaning

  I'm so sorry about what happened
can you hand me one of thse garbage bags
full of that winter?
I'm a lot stronger than you dear and I don't mind 
the smell.
why didn't you tell?
now he's dead and I can't do anything
would I have?
well I don't know
It would have really
caused a lot of trouble wouldn't it.
Let's just take these out to the curb
and it will all be taken away.
watch out  don't drip any of that 
on your brother
you know he has a weak stomach
squeamish
look it's dark,so dark outside
too dark for this
let's take these back up to your room
just for now
you know we can put them in your 
Hope chest until the garbage runs next week
take out those old dolls and teddy bears
you're too old for that stuff now anyway
aren't you dear.
you should not have kept so muchof this
for such a long time
that's why it smells so bad
it's your own fault after all,isn't it dear.