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Best Night Poems

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

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An Owls Night Out by Milliner, Sarita
night moods by Cane, H
Summer Night by Martin, Thomas
The Night that she witness Ghostface by Estevez, Cmack
Eerie Night by Cruz, Samantha
Valentine Night Wing by Raven, Vladislav
Night Of The Owl by Caliri, Matt
The Night I Cried by Henderson, Steven
WHEN NIGHT CRAWLS UPON ME by Banerjee, Prasenjit
Cold is the Night of September by Velves, Robert

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The Best Night Poems

Details | Night Poem | |

Black Diamond Night

Black Diamond Night (a coal miner’s cemetery) 

Where the ebony, we call “NIGHT”,
Old black rocks sit under the twilight
Diamond shape eyes unclear and lonely, 
Sinister through hostile spirits only,

I stumble across these stones without a bone
A solitary confinement alone,
From a barren zone the light transcend
Only in time, our minds will mend

Endless valleys and limitless stones
These bones- these bones they sit alone
The abyss, of rotten cavities with no fill,
A system no power can unwell the drill
The blood that passed over without a spill
Peaks collapse into a spellbinding chill
They are trapped! They are trapped!
Another diamond in the rough
Is what they left

Obsessed with the dead without a death
A death that impatiently awaited their last breath
Gushing, into the gems of dead chemistry,
Diamonds holding its own intensity,
These lonely graves, on top of sycamore hill
Coal mining hearts that will never heal
If only shiny eyes could see?
These lonely bones inside of me!
Moving in every direction possible
Flowing in every direction noticeable
Sockets without eyes.
Stones hiding under the cobalt skies.
The mad sparkles, the madness dies.
Throughout this mess, we held in the blasphemous
Intervening lots of gems so miraculous
  
Into a stone of self-religion,
A black night filled of legions
Acknowledging the soul's capacity of free
Near the frail bones that sit alone,
Alone they sit in a morbid home.
Through a path unclear and all alone,
Troubled by the visions of my own stone
Where the night takes place in the dark
The ebony rides under the diamond bark
Along with the coal miners who never got to see the;
“Diamonds of another day!”

:) pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

More great poems below...


Details | Night Poem | |

Where The Sycamore Grew

The house seemed smaller, now seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared

But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet much the same

There was an unfamiliar small red tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...

Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives..... 
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
            ...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
                       ...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes....
Yes....it is all still there, in the little yellow house

Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...


                                         ++++++++++++++++++

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009


Details | Night Poem | |

Midnight Secret

*Midnight Secrets*   

In the dark, I came alive 
~tonight
I found my way 
~into the light

Camouflage in lace, my skin glisten, 
Towards the wind, I listen! 
Skin of envy and gold, 
My limbs suddenly unfold, 
Gracefully I follow the air,
I found myself without a care, 
Every moment, every feeling felt erotically insane, 
Seductively, the night whispers my name, 
A freedom flight 
~into the night.
 
My breast, not of a little girl 
Beyond the hazels, into another world 
My life until this point had been a riddle 
My fingers slither, a play without a fiddle 

Circles with motion, 
Vibrations and self-soothing lotion, 
I touch myself gently, 
Thinking of you relentlessly,
Looking around, 
The night echoes a whimpering sound, 
I want to see, and embrace the secrets inside me,
I squeeze the damp enigma charcoal sheets-
Moaning and moaning, repeatedly. 
Tucking my silk pillows, groping my knees,
I rub my lids slowly, satisfactorily complete, 
Falling back into the realm of counting sheep. 
~Tonight 

by;)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


Details | Night Poem | |

WHEN I STOP AND PRAY

When the storm clouds boil around me, 
And the lightning splits the sky--. 
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort, 
When I simply stop and pray.

When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.

There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.

Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2006


Details | Night 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 | Night Poem | |

- Sweet Moon -



     Silver sprinkle moving across the dreams
     Silhouetted by the moon
     O ... such a peaceful night





     13.04.2015 A-L Andresen :)
     Kimo : three lines of 10, 7, and 6 syllables
     Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen | Year Posted 2015


Details | Night Poem | |

Moonlight Madness

MOONLIGHT MADNESS

The moon falls out like a secret above the frisky clouds
Daylight and night the stars come in crowds
Like a glistening diamond, I can't stop staring
Mixed-up in that moment that has no time sharing

Holding onto the tip of the tree limbs like a puppeteer
I can hear the words the moon whispers into my ear

TONIGHT! 
I will illuminate into a world only I know of
My very own little secret sparkling island getaway
A world where beauty hides the beast
I'll be the only exile under a sunless night feast

TONIGHT! 
I'm going to pass on all my secrets away---
As I have on my dreaming moonlit gear
Comfort upon this mundane wonder, astronomical sphere. 

TONIGHT!
I looked one last time at the mooned night
I will close my eyes, and find myself in a box kite flight.

TONIGHT! 
I will lay myself down to sleep, 
Not allowing my imagination to rinse off with wild sheep
Like a Nightingale, I rather sit and serenade myself to sleep
With the refreshing thought, the moon is like the pillow I keep

In this mad, mad world!
The moon seems to be the only object that holds it's sanity
Arousing me with it's inner peace and spirituality  

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


Details | Night Poem | |

Teddy Bear-

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
Mommy gave 'YOU' to me
Now I never sleep alone at night
The comfort you gave, when God's sunny eyes ran out of light

You are my sweet little teddy bear... 
You kept me company throughout the years
I hugged you, when my eyes were full of tears
Loving you, squeezing you
We both express many joyful dance of cheers
Together we sang lullabies, without you singing one single word
We drank from the same teacup, whispered about the pretty birds
Now listen, as I mumble extra words into your ear
My sweet Teddy Bear, you are always here

We snuggled every night staring at the star frame window
"You held my hand when I was lost in my own imaginary limbo

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
I'm 11 now, and my mother loves me dearly
Sadly, she felt it's time to find me a daddy
Little does she knows, my daddy visits every night in my dreams

Shhhhhh!!!
Now her boyfriend visits my room and tells me not to scream
Little Teddy bear, I never showed you fear before I fell asleep
Little Teddy bear, tonight I do not want to count sheep
Teddy bear, now I hold you closer and tighter than before
Little Teddy Bear let me cover your ears, from the screeching door
Little Teddy Bear, he said he would hurt mommy If I tell anyone
Little Teddy Bear, I know you see and hear everything!!!

by; pd
You're A Little Kid Again (contest)
The View of an 11 year old

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


Details | Night Poem | |

That Night We Kissed

That night we kissed, my heart became a butterfly.
It sprouted wings and danced across the velvet sky,
then leapt across the multitude of stars there strewn
along its happy way to touch the crescent moon.
You held me close, but did you know my heart could fly?

And in its pounding, did you hear it testify
that you, and you alone, could ever satisfy
the woman that emerged from her secure cocoon
that night we kissed?

It onward soared with constellations yet to try. . .
my yearning heart, once captive, was no longer shy.
How can hearts set free be ever more immune
to sweet caresses in a night that all too soon
must have an end? I couldn't bear to say goodbye
that night we kissed.


For Joe Flach's Contest "First Time"
and now a very old oldie for PD's 
the May the best descriptive poem win~~~ ((old poems only))Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


Details | Night Poem | |

Creature In The Night

Where cold stars exist in the dark,
serene winds whisper to trees
and scarce human ears can listen,
lone songs wail in the distance
in frozen moon's silver spotlight,
a mark left where paws had paused.






Written by: Kelly Deschler. January 16th, 2015

Inspired by creature #3 Coyote

nette onclaud's contest - NIGHT CREATURES


This poem was also inspired by actual events. A few weeks ago, I discovered 
some large animal paw prints that were left in the snow, near my home. I later
found out that the tracks were made by a wolf.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015


Details | Night Poem | |

Night-Blooming Jasmine

Night-Blooming Jasmine
expert seducer with soft silky lips, silver blue moon sweetly kisses a slumbering beauty awakening desire; greeting her lover, Night-Blooming Jasmine unfolds perfumed petals

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014


Details | Night Poem | |

Inner Eye

In-between sleep and wakefulness,
when my dream still lingers,
entwining free-flown fingers
with the morning rays, dancing across my eyelids.

It is in this state of in-between layers
that my inner-eye blinks its prayers,
and I can move backwards
through all of my many memories
until about the age of three -
the time when my imagination was truly free.

When I was three,
there wasn't one God for me to believe in.
There were thousands of Gods and Goddesses
hiding inside of each and every living thing:
Deities in the woods and wind.
Deities hiding beneath the surface 
of our goldfish pond,
water nymphs kissing the feet
of the Lady in the lake.

One of my most vivid memories as a toddler,
was the day I caught a huge, black cricket.
My Father seemed shocked at the size of my catch,
punched holes into the lid of a mason jar
for me to keep the cricket inside of.
He had never seen such an enormous cricket before.
I was so proud.
I remember looking into its mysterious eyes,
believing for some strange reason,
that a loved one, was now inside of this creature.

Such strange thoughts for a three year-old to have.
But at the time, I truly believed in this.
This was sort of my first inner awakening.
My inner-eye was beginning to speye.
The first night with my cricket,
I listened to its hypnotic song,
and realized it sounded similar to the music
that the old Chinese lady listened to, down the street.
This was sort of my second inner awakening.

I didn't know about the Dao back then;
or maybe I just didn't know the labels?
But I did know how I was altering the destiny
of this creature....altering my own being.

The next day, my Father made me release the cricket.
He did not want it to die,
for it was the biggest cricket he had ever seen.
That was still the most proud I had ever been.
Reluctantly, I opened the jar,
waited an eternity for the escape.
That night I swore that I could hear
a distinct "Chiiiiiiirrrrrup" much louder than the rest.
This was sort of my third inner awakening -
my inner-eye, beginning to speye....


....just as I am awakening now,
the morning rays dancing across my eyelids.

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2010


Details | Night 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 | Night Poem | |

Nature's Way Constanza

Sol puts to sleep the hills with light
     while gloaming sheds all fading rays
     and brilliant colors change to greys

when shadows darken them with night.
     The ocean turns from bondi blue
     to deeper shades of cobalt hue.

Returning birds to boughs, a sight,
     singing melodies before sleep.
     In flocks they fly, their perch to keep,

as twilight captures them in flight.
     Then comes quiet hours for romance
     and cheek to cheek, young lovers dance.

While Luna tests our will, our might
     to keep control of passion’s love,
     with silver fingers from above

when rising slowly to her height.
     To wee hours the poet will write
     until he glimpses dawn’s first light.

Luna begins to fade from sight.
     Then all the birds begin to sing
     which conjures up the feel of spring.

Sol’s rise again, conquers the night.
     Birds leave their limbs to welcome day
     and trees commune in their sweet way.


Sol puts to sleep the hills with light
when shadows darken them with night.
Returning birds to boughs, a sight,
as twilight captures them in flight.
While Luna tests our will, our might
when rising slowly to her height.
Luna begins to fade from sight.
Sol’s rise again, conquers the night.

4/16/2015

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015


Details | Night Poem | |

Sanctuary

With a brush from his diversified palette 
the master painter silently darkens
fading twilight to illuminate the stars 
with the moon basking in glorious delight

The night hides my flaws and imperfections
No longer are my scars exposed nor vulnerable
Serene calmness of the night enables me to drift
peacefully - reflecting upon sentimental thoughts

My soul is free to roam nonchalantly nocturnally
All my struggles disappear with my shadow
This is my sanctuary - a place to escape from reality
nothing enchanting, this is my bed - I'm asleep!

The Silent One
9 January 2015




Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016


Details | Night Poem | |

Granny Panty Annie, the Tranny

Lemme tell ya' about a
*ding-bat skit-zo 
bee-hotch* tranny
named Annie...

I met her one night 
under disco lights 
up at Candies

She was 
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin' ta' see 
if I wanted a piece
of he 
OR
of she 
by way of flashin' granny panties

She was
shootin' pool
actin' a fool
so I 
took a shot
and one tiny glance 
but got caught

So I
lit up a smoke
and tried to play it off cool
but it was too late
she had pulled up a stool

She slurred,
"Hey young felluh, where ya' been all my life!"

I replied, 
"Sorry to burst yir' bubble, but I got a wife!"

"That don't matter kid, what she don't know won't hurt the girl" 
as she fisted my collar and yelled, "I'LL ROCK YIR' WORLD! Annie the Tranny is what they call me. Bet you been wanted ta' bone me since you first saw me!"

Fear and frustration danced on my face
I begged the bouncer to 
"Get this he/she outta the place!"

My pleas were to no avail, 
and that sea donkey lurked hot on my trail
flailin' it's arms and grindin' bar stools with it's tail

Speakin' of tails...
a shiny blue wale tail crept up her back
Her jeans were mean, but couldn't hold her underwear's elastic slack
but at least it beat feastin' eyes upon her crack
then she... 
wrapped her grimy hands around my neck and asked, 
"You n' me, boy, what the heck!?!"

I screamed,
"Look here lady, you seem real nice for a tranny;
but...
ya' see...
ya' need 
to hit the bricks,
you
and yir' Granny Panties!"

At that point the joint started to really heat up
people were glarin' like they really wanted me beat up
I can't recall how the hell I got out of there 
alive and free
it was like a big manly freight train
headin' dead at me

I'm pretty sure I owe the good Lord a big favor
that beast was the devil
and Jesus was my Savior!

It's a night I thought would never end... 
the night at Candies Bar n' Grill
Granny Panty Annie got a thrill 
tryin' to make me her sexy friend!!!



Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012


Details | Night Poem | |

Bloom Not, Wolfsbane

Bloom not, cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

The girl was luscious in the wake
Rising at break of dawn
If only she knew I was a mistake
Before we made the bond

I grew fond of her everyday
And night gave me loathe and dread
My heart was weak, I couldn’t send her away
But fed in her desires instead

I kissed her in the forest of green
I had forgotten what I am
I gazed into those eyes, so keen!
A smooth and gentle lamb

 
One day I stopped to think a bit
My stomach wrenched and twirled
Through love I had lost my sense and wit
To a pitiful village girl!

Avoiding her best I could
I hid from beauty’s caresses
But again she found me in the wood
And so grew the obsession

But so grew the moon
And the waning was abstaining
Good night, wonders of the noon
With memories remaining

Alone I wandered in the cold
Knowing it was coming
The sky grew dark, the sun was sold
Behind the madness blooming 

Transforming! Changing!
My mind went all a blur
Rage deforming! Madness deranging!
I couldn’t think of her…  

The time was gone!
The night had come!
I thought I was alone
But then I saw her standing there
Pale and stiff as stone

I woke up that dawn sitting there
On the forest floor
And there lay she all bloodied and bare
The lamb that I adore!

The wounds I found were like a gift
I know they were from my girl
I’m glad she fought her will to live
As I blindly devoured her

An honorable lamb with bloodied hooves
She’ll never leave my vision
Sacrificed for ravenous wolves  
And no cry for jurisdiction 

 Bloom not cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

-an oldie , hehe
For Pd's Contest : )


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011


Details | Night Poem | |

Spider songs

Blades of grass, wet under foot, insect eyes  
Dusk, offset by the cricket orchestra 
Muted and receding into the trees and bushes,
Tickled by the wind, rattling snake tail wind 
While we may be in the company of wolves,
A long legged friend is late for the party 

Eyes, little iridescent stars 
Attending to each one, and look there, 
There she is, making the most beautiful geometry 
Parallels within the octagons, pulling silks
An arm for every task, little perpetual motion machine

Is that the Queen of the Night under the rusted iron? 
A forlorn lady, black patent leather, kill a man, maybe two 
With her danger red symmetry, oozing with youth 
And a penchant for paralysis, no one can resist her wine

Then there's the hall of cob webs, threadbare handkerchiefs
Left by ladies who exhausted all of their company 
To be a spectacle under the moon, in the wood pile 
Dressed up in the finest furs, all earth tones 
Stepping out to introduce themselves in girlish droves 

Venus of another sort, these little cursed jezebels 
Hovering on the skin of the water, or on the red brick wall 
Must frequent every happy corner, and slip away at a moment's notice
A real lady always knows when to say goodnight
Such graceful exits through cement cracks
Back to the parlor, to glow in the dark 
And they become spiders again 



Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013


Details | Night Poem | |

Wayward Child

Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm 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, I'm now 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 conceive 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 conceive 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,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.



Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012


Details | Night Poem | |

On Halloween Night

I hear the October winds whispering and I think it knows,
as the witching hour arrives and a harvest moon glows,
only once a year, do we celebrate death on Halloween night,
it is a time for remembrance, and not a time for fright.

As dead leaves come to life, once more, somehow they know,
on the twisted claw-like branches, I see the excitement grow,
black bats take their flight and wise owls call out to you,
it seems strange, but I imagine that they all know, too.

I ask you now, my dearly departed ancestors, to arise,
come and dance with me, there is no need for disguise,
on this one dark, Halloween night, it is the only time,
when we can feel truly alive and so morbidly sublime.

Let me wipe away the ancient moss from your tombstone,
come forth with dust and decay, your shroud and bone,
feel the warm glow from this carved out jack o' lantern,
and watch his lit, grinning soul, may it flicker and burn.

You must still remember the candy corn's sweet flavor,
and those crisp apples, with juicy bite after bite to savor,
it is only on this night when we can taste this rare treat,
and it is only on this Halloween night when we can meet.

Tonight will not be your usual haunting among the graves,
or beneath the dead willow tree, weeping, shackled like slaves,
you are free to wander, to celebrate, and honor our past,
until the morning sun rises, on this Eve that will not last.

So come with me now and our spirits will live once more,
as we roam down our old streets, and visit door to door,
let us go, and lead them all in our mysterious nighttime parade,
where we can finally be ourselves, no need for a masquerade.


Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014


Details | Night Poem | |

Indelible

I was seventeen, had one year left of high school and a boyfriend I didn't even love. It was the end of summer, and I was on the verge of a night indelible because it was incredible for me. If "tall, dark, and handsome" had a face, it belonged to one who walked into the store I worked at nightly all alone. He brought with him a smile just for me - beautiful, magical, seducing. Were he music, he'd have been the warmest song to ever touch my soul. Perhaps it was the moon, lunacy-inducing, that made me crave his visits more and more, for he'd come each night into the store, his ritual to tease me with his glances; then stand in line with just one purchase, engaging me with words deliciously belying that he spoke my native tongue. Did he know I fairly worshiped him? And where was Aphrodite to let her dear Adonis wander free? I learned eventually he was staying with a brother and soon would be returning to Quebec. I do not know, but I can now infer the moon waxed full by the time he asked me out, for I had waxed complete in my audacity. Knowing it was his last night in town, I closed the store up early and fled with my Prince Charming. The stuff of poetry that night transpired. . .fodder for the several poems of romance I've since penned. Sitting in his car in front of my own house, late at night, into the early morning. . . The way he gazed into my eyes, teaching me of butterfly kisses and his breathing his sweet breath along my ear lobes, the way our fingers interlaced, the way he caressed the small of my back. . . He taught me how small things can be just as sensuous as that act of love that virgins do not know, and he branded me with a yearning for a sweet romantic love I'd never felt so strongly, nor would I ever know again as wonderfully as I was shown that night, for others in my life I've kissed, yet I have never missed them. My dream love wrote me postcards from Quebec. Then it all died out. I married. A few years passed; then I got a call from him, completely unexpected! Somehow he'd tracked me down to my new home. I took the call, as I held my firstborn baby daughter in one arm. Heart in my throat, I told him it was nice to hear from him, but I was married now. So though I'll never know what "may have been," I'm still left with the memory I chose to make with him that one day of my life, my very best, because for just one night, I was Cinderella. A prince still holds my slipper, and infinite romance lives on inside my poems.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


Details | Night Poem | |

- You Must Be Brave -

She's going outside her comfort zone
Why would she leave her safe cell
Life has come with promises from the birth moment
Of a light at the end of the tunnel
The pain that ruin causes falls deep into the darkness
There is no need to be afraid
Every day and every night
Refuse to love, nightmares and dark shadows from the past
A constant fight ensues between her heart and mind
No questions nor any answers ... emptiness
She lets the cold breeze guide her thoughts
Moments define themselves regardless
Right here helpless, silent and breathless
Dreaming by candlelight and paper lanterns
Brilliantly defined and silhouetted, and so brightly lit 


When the curtains open and music plays 
Fluttering wings of magic sails on cloud nine 
Flashing golden memories held within the dome 
Happiness enchanting spells a heavenly rays smiles 
Open arms warmly embracing sighs inside waves turn keys
One song faraway rising tides brushing sands 
In the basin seed of love nourished with beauty 
Eden's fruit once bitten when rose blossoms 
Sweetly summer sun dances in the horizon 
Kissing beams drifting faraway holding paradise 
Walking inside the moonlight shadows of daydreams
Winds whispering honey coating chants your tune




Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  20.05.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015


Details | Night Poem | |

Time Machine

Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place
Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face
To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white
To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night
Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee
Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day
Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween
Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean
Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer
Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer
That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance
Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance
Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree
Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see
Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent
Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent
Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car
Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar
Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat
Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet
Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear
Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year
News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts
Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts
Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day
Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May
Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool
Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school
Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul
Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009


Details | Night Poem | |

4 in the Morning

At 3am you become your own philosopher, categorizing
the different genres of humans and wondering
if you fall even remotely close to anyone on the spectrum.
You debate with yourself the meaning of life, again,
and then regret everything you accomplished the previous day.

5am, that’s the breaking point.
The sun climbs out of bed, and chases away 
the comforting lure of night and all dreams of slumber. 
The damned birds start peeping and you curse and sigh, 
watching the room change colours 
until you must get up to join the others.

But 4am, it’s the gaping time of day 
that even the insomniacs deny.
As if night took a deep breath and forgot to exhale,
the silence is quieter, the darkness more pure.
You hide under covers and stare into emptiness
trying to make something of black space
but your mind remains impossibly blank.

Copyright © Ashley W. | Year Posted 2014


Details | Night Poem | |

MOONLIGHT SHADOW

Silhouetted in the early morn Five black crows await the breaking dawn Sitting still and silent in a row Their shadows cast a forbidding glow Dusk turns to dawn as daylight breaks Dark skies fade as the world awakes The moonlight pales in the morning light Soon to rise again and welcome night Jan Allison 24th March 2015 form used - Ekphrasis Black and White film Photography – A V Giorgio ~awarded 3rd place~

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015