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Best Dark Poems

Below are the all-time best Dark poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of dark poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Burning Out Of The Dark by Wytcherley, Desiree
The Dark Corners Of My Mind by Wytcherley, Desiree
A DARK CLOUD, CIRCLES by Poshiwa, Herzel
The Dark Side of Love by Solnox, Luaer
Dark Love by Teagan, Becca
this dark heaven by junor, mark
She Was Semiramis, Dark Deity Of Old by Lindley, Robert
Dark Feathers by Nelson, Eirik
the sun is dark the moon is bright by Teaser, Keith
dark surrender by Wings, Broken

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The Best Dark Poems

Details | Dark Poem | |

Alice Sweet Alice

      ~Alice Sweet Alice~

        *Like Sisters*
   Everyday -- Holding Hands 
Sunday Dress -- Pink Ribbons
         *Alice And I*


How can they say she did not exist?
This Sweet Girl I Named Alice

The way she looks at me
-Her eyes tender green
A body figure I can't describe
Together we played hide and seek
We swung in ways no one could see
This girl with pretty red curls
Who enjoys the sound of pouring rain.

Together we slept under the same breeze 
We carved our names on the same tree
Side by Side it Read Alice & I!
She whispered the day I fell off my bike
Alice Sweet Alice loves the way I look in red!

Every day I face the mirror
Alice puts her left hand on my right
We share the same identical scars,
Under the right and left palm.

The way she held my hand
Healed the scrapes in every fall
Beating from the bullies, she screams!
Again, Alice, whispers--- "Kill Them All!"
No one ever said a word,
When she stood by my side
Alice knew me in ways no one else did
She knew my eyes -When they cried!

Now I can't sleep,
Since, Alice has fallen back into the abyss
Forever conscious in a self-hug
--- this is no dream, it is real!

The rage inside, burns.
It took place the day she left!
Burning curtains 
Empty mirrors
This Girl Named Alice spoke of darkness,
then disappeared 

When I hear the sound of pouring rain
I stare at the shadows on the wall
Nothing feels the same,
I allow myself to soak in a darkness where it began.

My hair of red is not the same
These cuts are all that remain
The only clue in which Alice, was here!
Holding on to stainless blade, I sleep

ALICE SWEET ALICE! 
Please call my name!
Why do they whisper?
Why are they saying she never held a breath?
I know she is real, she's exist
Why else would I let her cut my wrist?

This Sweet Girl 
"I YELL FOR ALICE!"
Finally, visits again ---
But, who is to believe?
For everyone says 
Alice lives inside my head.

By:)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

More great poems below...


Details | Dark Poem | |

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 | Dark Poem | |

Secret of the Mortician

The Secret of the Mortician

Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays

After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
He's satisfied

The next day 
Writes an outstanding obituary 
I sit on display

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dark Poem | |

I Wore Your Skin

~I wore your skin~

Brother, I wore your skin last night
Nothing but friction, blood -dry ink
Announcing a crush "Silence by the Sky!"
Integrity denied, endangered enemy

Brother, I wore your skin last night, swollen ankles
  imagery galore, vomit on the lavatory floor
A clown bleeding red, feeding lies to those he rapes
Blades of need, captain catamite chasing a pup
Who can't resist the heat, when fenced
Brother, I wore your skin last night,
White, green and tight, devouring the light 
Mitten wool on your bottom draw
Lipstick waiting to kiss immediate sin
In search of keeping things close to kin
Brother I wore and tore your skin right off
Gross in every demonic way, 
Acrobats all over the home
Docile immunity, lurking with a bomb threat 

Sister, I wore your skin last night
Vanity of nothingness nutted blasphemy
Evil lurking, wanting to undress thee
Comparing notes, breaking bad company

Sister, I wore your skin last night, swollen lips
  scumbag hag, with nowhere to go
Immortal lies weaken by love
Revealing nothing more than her true self
A wraith with no heart, no goal
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Repeating, bleeding, nail biting
Greasy and powerful, needy and greedy
Aching and whining for not placing
Her head lower than shame holding a high
Sister I wore and swore to never put on your skin again
The nasty feeling, of pretending loyalty, is passion
To hate all those who don't fit your skin
A vulture preying sending encrypted messages

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dark Poem | |

Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.

Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013


Details | Dark Poem | |

Sheol

Dark Knight-tress 

Underneath 
This gown I feel nothing
Silk less feelings
The odor of intimate apparel lessens 
Vanity fare from any sun
Warrior of beauty
Where have you gone?
A fortress of gloom
Not even death wants in
Black nail tips
Brownish plum lips

I close my eyes 
I see them all
The Shadows
Climbing over my soul
The darken deepens 
The stars dim my view
Irremovable makeup
Land becomes an enemy
I become
The Dark Knight-tress
Scolding my next victim

~S~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


Details | 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.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012


Details | Dark Poem | |

Dear Lucifer

I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I? 
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw 
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown

There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me

What I will never be

Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013


Details | Dark Poem | |

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 | Dark Poem | |

It Matters Not

It hovers here, a moon opaque, obscuring mountain trails I take. No other living things appear. A moon opaque. . . It hovers here. I follow on along a ledge; below a swirling river’s edge. In front of me, the canyon’s yawn. Along a ledge, I follow on. I see no hue when fog congeals. Oh, doom of one who no more feels! The moon has fled, as so have you. When fog congeals, I see no hue. Now all is dim; it matters not. My dear one’s heart I have not got. No use in living without him. It matters not. Now all is dim. At peace I’ll be if I should fall to murky water from this wall. Oh, yawning canyon, swallow me. If I should fall, at peace I’ll be. 'for the Gothic or Romantic (old/new) Contest of Giorgio Veneto and now for the contest of PD

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013


Details | Dark Poem | |

SILHOUETTE OF THE NIGHT

Witching hour is upon us Dusky clouds, falling, swirling Obscuring the crescent moon Skeleton fingered branches Beckoning me in the wind As I creep past the grave stones To my final resting place Jan Allison 10th November 2014 Contest: Silhouette of a Heptagonet Sponsor: Nette Onclaud ~awarded 5th place~ Syllable Counter Used - 'How Many Syllables' 7,7,7,7,7,7,7

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


Details | Dark Poem | |

Poetry in Poetry a Duet of Lonely Blues

Poetry

Is not the poem
Is not the poet

Is the observations
Is the emotions

Is the diversity. entwined
Opposing views always sought

Is the love
Is the hate

Is the sadness
Of losing to fate

Is the laughter
Of a child’s dreams

Is the love
That is sometimes unseen

Except by the poet
Who in his lonely sadness sees

The beauty of all
That surrounds the depression in he



In Poetry

I died
Long ago

My heart something broke
I became cold

I cried
For childhood days gone by

I died
A million ways

Now I write
From down below

Where darkness is the sea
That I sail in eternity

Of in the distance
I heard the notes of a symphony

So now as I sleep
A thousand deaths

I hope
For that one musical note

To wake me up
Heart and soul

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dark Poem | |

In The Flesh

Introducing: Casarah Nance & Poet Destroyer

Scars of empty promises are darkened by your kiss.
Torturous touches are meant to soothe my pain.
It is without gain, without pleasure, beyond measure,
You are the puppet master, strung on dark days, a haze.
Specter of solitude, you confine me with your magnitude,
What purpose do I serve, is slavery what I deserve?
Tell me your intention, sate me with your perfection.
Shed a light into this soul starved sanctuary,
Come, whisper your words in my ear, complete me…

       A sweet surrender to your call, a will of solitude
       I lead the way, cutting strings attached to the light
       Touching every breathing strand stressing yesterday
       Giving you room to fall into my designated despair,
       Adding, to your creeping gloom, I give and lend pouring pain,
       the kind of pain, that begs for blades
       Abhorring the taste of life, your flesh empowers my darkness
       My intentions are nothing more, than a shadow bearing strength,
       Smiling at your tears, caressing your lips,
       Taking from the closure your soul seeks tonight
       Blind! You will become to the misery, in this barren place
       The pain of rigor mortise will blend against your pale skin
       A slave without shackles,
       I concur with pleasure to feed the hunger, you give
       Forever, I am DARKNESS

~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dark Poem | |

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

 I saw, the rot of sad, deep selfish desires,
 burning endlessly in clever fires
 Piles of cash a tall mountain high
 stolen by those that cleverly steal and lie
 six lying days every week , 
 while they race into church pretending 
 to be ever so mild and meek

 The preacher crying all to give so much more
 while he lives in a mansion with a golden door
 drunks living with no other life
 have sacrificed family and wife
 naked women on the the street,
 selling their pride and body like meat
 hustlers getting rich selling poisonous dope
 as they hang themselves with an evil rope

 I looked for solace and found there was none
 just endless cowards crying on the run
 A world teaching wrong is so damn right
 blind monkeys never seeing the light
 dancing in fruitless trees,
 tree-rats eating with relish their rotting cheese

 Looking for Spring to bring life anew
 I too am blind and without a damn clue
 a fool holding onto a false hope
 on a tight leash and even shorter rope

 Where is the miracle we each think can come
 we see it shining there for some
 A treasure glaring in the glimmering Sun
 gifted not stolen by guile and a gun
 So I finally turned to family for relief
 ease my Soul, winter in my long lost belief
 that Life must give us all a saving line
 other than more food when we sit to dine

R.J. Lindley
Nov 9th, 1984

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dark Poem | |

JEALOUSY

~It's Out There~

Green colored field 
A flower without the sun 
Wilts from distrust 
now washed away 
by the man storm

by:

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dark Poem | |

Among Butterflies Sought


Is This Nature's Glory As a quarry? Alone and at peace A life, a new lease I pull up a piece of land Take a little time to mend This rainforest trembles An open window in shambles Sitting on my own made porch I fire up a configured torch  Then Lay under, should I say What is like a porch light ray And I wait for that one moth Amongst butterflies sought An unwanted reject Like me ready to eject Take me now in this lush With the roar of death; a hush And I will go, amongst this gift Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift My life to stop the bleeding of the land So I protect this marvel, hold her hand Never can't So I chant Let me meld Forest held Me alone a window into the future slightly opened We are all just a moth drawn to a porch light penned  13~11~2014 Sponsor : craig cornish Contest Name : Chopped II ********************************************************* I believe this falls within the 10 to 20 line loose suggestion. This is usually done by the sponsor because it would be difficult to read 35 epic poems and rate them. Because I wanted to create a shape if you count lines as they line up I have more then 20. If I realigned them I would have much less than 20. I believe I stayed within the spirit of the rules. However that is and should be in the hands of the sponsor. I worked very hard towrite this piece for this contest. I loved the process. I have already accomplished everything I wanted to do with this write. I watch the show Chopped all the time.The idea is to be creative with the ingredients. If there is a steak in the basket you better not just cook a steak. The point of the show is using the ingredients creatively never do the obvious. I am happy to have written this piece inspired by the contest. So thank you Craig because I am proud of this write. However below is the ten to twenty line alternative in case you would rather judge it. ********************************************************** Chopped Too - A Rainforest This rainforest trembles An open window in shambles Sitting on my own made porch I fire up a configured torch  Then Lay under, should I say What is like a porch light ray And I wait for that one moth Amongst butterflies sought An unwanted reject Like me ready to eject Take me now in this lush With the roar of death; a hush And I will go, amongst this gift Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift My life to stop the bleeding of the land So I protect this marvel, hold her hand Me alone a window into the future slightly opened We are all just a moth drawn to a porch light penned  13~11~2014 Sponsor : craig cornish Contest Name : Chopped II

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Dark Poem | |

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 | Dark Poem | |

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 | 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
© All Rights Reserved

Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2013


Details | Dark Poem | |

Shades of Poe , Speaketh

Shades of Poe , Speaketh


Shades of Poe oft run in my veins
dark, dirty little splashing stains
No Raven stirs my battered heart
nor any signs on my astrology chart

Dark mysteries seep in at night
shadowed beings birthing fright
Muffled sounds sent to alarm
evil crying to scare and harm

Then my soul cries out to Poe
help me now , for you must know
Remedy for this sad affliction
a spell to give quick eviction

Reply creeps slowly back to me
close your eyes to sadly see
Darkness that drives men mad
such my heart and soul once had

No cure can by me be so gifted
you need Light to be so uplifted
My words are my aid little as is
answer you seek can only be His
Son of Light only can save you
my darkness left me only that clue!

Robert J. Lindley  10-12-2014

note:  Tis' the month the Dark spreads 
its evil mists to kids tucked in beds,
scary voices crying muffled shouts,
battles and shadowed little bouts,
goblins, ghouls and witches now abound
imagine such and they are then found!

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014


Details | Dark Poem | |

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 | Dark Poem | |

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 | 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.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009


Details | Dark Poem | |

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 | 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.

Copyright © Canny Amah | Year Posted 2009