Best Dark Poems
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Best Famous Poems
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Dark
Poem
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.
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Dark
Poem
Wayward Child
Memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides
for you have left me, long ago, and 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, now so 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 conceived 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 conceived 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
Memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.
Date: 8/8/12
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Inspired by Charles Henderson write
A Song of Michael's Rose
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Dark
Poem
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.
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Dark
Poem
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.
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Dark
Poem
Deep Dark Poem
~Deep Dark Poem~
Tonight I want to go deeper in my soul
I want to be born again tonight I want
to go back in my mothers womb and feel
my happiness of my first cry yet feel her
real pain while she was delivering me
I want to feel both all her pain and the
little of happiness I had since I was born.
I want to feel each breath I breathed since
that first night I want to see my fathers
eyes if he had a tear of happiness while
holding me for the first time .
I want to walk talk laugh cry climb defeat
succeed breath suffocate scream eat drink
revive my senses I want to hold her breast
and be a baby again I don't want to grow
Old yet I want to remain a new born in her
arms to feel safe I want to hold my fathers
glasses and see the color of his eyes will I
have them will I have his nose will I have
my mothers softness will I cry for help will
I see and hear and listen and run and walk
and hold her hand to feel safe I am lost
tonight I need her grip.
I need my brother who carried me where is
he today why did he leave me so early and
die so young I want to eat with them I want
to share with them in what state of mind
I am in tonight I want to go home tonight
to my mother and fathers home I want to
see their light at their home as I am living
through my darkest hours tonight.
But I cannot as all what I want
I cannot have.
I want their faithful love I want to sleep
on their bed and feel the warmth of their
love in our home where I was born and
after years I was torn away from them
to live in another mans home.
They forgot to tell me how much they
have suffered when I left their home and
went away they forgot to tell me so many
things that iI am experiencing them now
today yesterday and tomorrow my life
passed away so quickly busy bringing up
my kids busy giving them an education
busy cooking for them busy working to
provide for them everything busy washing
busy crying busy going out busy busy where
are they now where was I when my father
left to climb up his ladder where was I
when my mothers turn arrived to climb up her
ladder and stay next to him they went up to
meet their son who left them years ago he
was only 29 years old they had to live suffering
suffering missing missing him their first born
for years and years.
Father of my 2 boys thee only ecstasy
I had during that marriage nothing was
real except my kids nothing existed except
them nothing meant anything in my world
except them nothing ever passed before
them they are my light when i am blind
they are my laughter in my inside they
are with me with every breath I breath
we are inseparable even when they are
far I see them when its dark I see them
when I am deaf I hear them through my
strength I survive to keep them alive.
I walk alone yet their shadow never
leaves my sight they call my name from
far I call them back I write to reach out
for them to read through my lines how
much I need to be cared for even one day
maybe half a day maybe a few hours even
one second is more then enough to pump
my heart to go on.
So sorry my fellow poets tonight when
you read through my lines you will forgive
me as I am sentimentally in pain affectionately
in pain tonight my pen was agonizing missing
my children missing to see them how do I survive
daily without them I don't know I know I have
been doing that for the past 35 years seeing
them on and off due to the war in our country
& unexplainable circumstances.
Tonight forgive me. I have no more tears.
Therese Bacha
Deep Dark Poem for contest of PD (Win.No 4 ) 22/2/2013
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Dark
Poem
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
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Dark
Poem
Shadows In My Mind
Darkness brings the shadows
Of places I have been
Memories loom in corners
Rattling in the wind
Sometimes whispers haunt me
Never letting go
Race across the star shine
Answers left unknown
Reaching blindly through the night
Someone to hold close
Only to find vapors
Drifting down like tears
Shadows never listen
'Till the morning light
Then I'll follow sunrise
Far into my mind
Then I'll follow sunrise
Far into my mind
02/09/13
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Dark
Poem
EATING BINGE
Real killer's don't talk
Nor do they host company?
Maybe it's the respectful person
With a sense of humor, who
Sits across the cubicle from you
The well groomed woman or man
Who doesn't resemble the boogeyman because
It lives within,
Activated by disrespect.
Do you see the fangs
Behind the painted smile,
The horns beneath the hairline?
A book with an appealing cover!
What has been hibernating
Now must be fed!
Fulfilled by the rush,
The constant thought of
Serves as dessert for those
Who acquire the taste
Of Thou Shall Not.
Scribe ML
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Dark
Poem
Locked in a Jar
Does the one who loves you know who you are?
She needs a real man not just a facade.
Don't keep your heart locked away in a jar.
Not being open she'll think you're a fraud.
She longs to share every part of herself.
She needs a real man not just a facade.
Your heart is out of reach on that old shelf.
Where she can see it but it's out of reach.
She longs to share every part of herself.
But you hold onto her just like a leach.
In the glass jar it looks so very clear.
Where she can see it but it's out of reach.
If you open it what is there to fear?
Are there dark spots you don't want her to see?
In the glass jar it looks so very clear.
Is it that you're afraid that she will flee?
Why won't you reveal every part of you?
Are there dark spots you don't want her to see?
There are some good men, be one of the few.
It's time to reveal every part of you.
Help the one who loves you, know who you are.
Don't keep your heart locked away in a jar.
Modified Terzanelle
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Dark
Poem
Necromancer (The Haunting Continues...)
In the cemetery I walk, so dark it is this night.
Hoping that the Ghouls won't start to bite.
I feel the tug of the dead, as each grave I pass.
Thankful this nervous tension won't last.
Armed with my Animation supplies,
I stare out at all the green glowing eyes.
A chicken for my blood sacrifice,
Raising the dead, there's always a price.
The salt keeps the dead inside.
Using the machete our magic, we'll ride.
Salt is for everybody's protection.
Cold steal seals out any deception.
To prime the earth so the dead will rise,
cast the blood and create our ties.
Focus my energy and the ground starts to shake.
Winds whip through the area and the on-lookers quake.
I command all that is at least 3 days dead.
Just enough time for the soul to move ahead.
Born with this power as a Necromancer,
When I will my power all the dead have to answer.
I look to Sandra Hudson, who hired me,
to raise the dead and hear their screams.
I call Illyanna De La Keur from her deep, dark grave.
Her words are scary so be very, very brave.
For John Loving III's "Haunted Poets Society"
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