Evil Water Poems | Evil Poems About Water

These Evil Water poems are examples of Evil poems about Water. These are the best examples of Evil Water poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |

Water Wall

As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.

Gene Bourne 




Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Romanticism |

Can you feel me

Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.

The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart 
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.

The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.

Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
without you.

I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Salt Water

A thing so paradoxical desire;
So all encompassing it’s grasp;
A curse of eternal thirst- 
Though we are drowning.
Hands desperately scratching for a life raft
That is secretly made of the same water we drown in.
So we continue our daily floundering
Chasing a trail of crumbs we call “Hope”

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Love Flows Tidal Waters

The best of human nature is like water;
    Water benefits all things
    and does not compete with them.
It dwells in lowly places that all disdain--
    Wherein it comes near to Tao.
                           Laotse, Water

Imagine someone saying to God,
"I did this evil act just to test You!"

Dear Eco-Logical Universal Intelligence,

I did this evil act just to test you.
We do evil to teach us justice
               to discover individual and collective responsibility.
Evil develops from what we don't do
                          that we could do instead,
                          that is within our power to do or not,
                          individually, AND collectively.

We do not evil to learn mercy
                    to uncover our individual AND collective accountability
                    toward mutual redemption.

Human nature's good and evil knowledge
loves insight,
as Yang loves Yin,
not just justice and equivalence together,
but knowledge loves
our human love affair
with mutually co-arising insight.

Yang's knowledge looks outside
in and through
under and above
Earth's forested flowing systems;
Yin's insight looks within
back and forth across time's enculturing memory
compassioned with Earth's forested
and watered
and self-composting eco-logical systems.

Double-rooting Yang resolves Yin's balancing regenerative eco-nutrients
as Space resonates Time's 4-growing season rhythmic bicameral heartbeat.


We both do and do not evil 
    to mutually mentor fair balance of redemptive mercy,
    to evolve our SuperEco-Intelligence 
    and proactive peaceful resolution,
    love's full inclusive resonance,
    synergy's revolution.

One - Two
    Three - Four.
Winter - Spring
    Summer - Fall
Advent - Birth
    Maturing - Harvest

We have delivered this evil of Climatic Competitive Transmillennial-Actions
to Spring love's cooperative Bodhisattva Occupation,
Earth's ecologically harmonious fractal habitat.

U - C,
   A - G.

Breathing In Eco
    Breathing Out Ego.
Dissonating Evil,
    Resonating Good.

Co-habitating permaculturing regenesis.

Justice and Peace co-intelligently breathe
through each eternal HereNow Moment.

Breathe in good and evil's justice.
    Breathe out polyculturing peace.

Listen - Notice
    Grace - TransAction.
Positive Presence life/death recycling trend,
    Polycultural Optimization Praxis

life through death
ecotherapeutic regeneration,
surfing up and down,
breathing in and out,
beating in and out,
flowing back and forth,
emerging tidal Tao balance.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |

To Those Who Worship: Abridged Version

You!! You, I say you on the guitar?
Do you know who you are?
Or are you just an angel without a name?
I see your heart my sister!! And you do not sing for fame!!!
No, you live and love and play and dance to praise that man who Reigns!!

You!! You singing on the microphone?
Do you feel alone?
Or do you know dear brother Seraphim, that you help to put us in that zone?
To bow down low in honor?,
Of he who sits high on the throne?!!!

You!! You dancing in the corner, with your hands lifted high,
Do you feel sometimes like you wish you’d die?
Or do you know that when you dance, my Savior’s hands you untie?
To give us joy deep in our hearts and free our minds from lies?

My sister, I’m just a warrior, whose run in fear too many times,
My brother, I’m just a warrior, who fights the dark one with my rhymes,
And I press the boundaries of our justice for those who fall beneath the cracks,
I press in against the evil one, who puts this hatred on our backs,

But you? You see beyond this evil to a place I long to go,
You reach into the light of God, and the path to right you show,
For you bring the water of music to wash away our sin,
And because you choose to worship her, this battle we shall win,
For worship is the weapon of Sons and Daughters Divine,
For worship is the key to life and an end to these dark times,
For worship is a refuge in a world of sinister sounds,
For worship is a space ship that goes to realms of God renown,
For worship is my best friend’s and my eldest brother’s great delight,
For worship is the celebration of that freedom for which I fight,

Man can you see it?
Worship is light!!
Worship is tight!
Worship makes me take flight!
Worship ain’t black and worship ain’t white,
Worship is the power of love to wield the True Savior’s might!!

My sister, I’m just a warrior, whose run in fear too many times,
My brother, I’m just a warrior, who fights the dark one with my rhymes,
And I press the boundaries of our justice for those who fall beneath the cracks,
I press in against the evil one, who puts this hatred on our backs,

But you? You see beyond this evil to a place I long to go,
You reach into the light of God, and the path to right you show,
For you bring the water of music to wash away our sin,
And because you choose to worship her, this battle we shall win,

Copyright © Woodrow Lucas | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |


Once was a storm that remanded me
with all her murk and might.

Once was a thunder that ensued with it 
and shook me throughout the night.

Where were you as I was drenched
for her clouds unleashed that day?

Once was a sun that finally reached
and freed me from her captive ways.

Copyright © David Ranisav | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

The River

I stand here at the edge of the field
Looking and wondering when the water will yield
As I watch the water flow out of sight
I simply wonder what happens at night
You see the river is similar to our life
It has its shares of peace and strife 
It is not a straight road that is followed
Parts of it high, others hollowed
It starts out straight then slowly changes
As human emotion that has many ranges
Then all of a sudden it starts to turn
As friends disrespect us and leave us burned
It is filled with things both evil and good
As us good ones who swear they are hood
But all along the riverbed flowers stand nice
To make it look pretty and add some spice
The flowers are there to live off the water
As an evil friend standing with your son or daughter 
They make us think they are here for us
But when bad things happen we're first under the bus
No one really sees past the horizon
Whether it is being drunk by deer or bison
We can only see life as far as our hand reaches
Always remember it is not always sun and beaches
God has a plan for each of our lives
Even when it looks like we're headed for a dive
As the river flows not knowing where it's going
Just hand your life over to the all knowing

Copyright © Steve Malebranche | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

First Trial

He says we must take up our cross
to follow him and that his yoke is easy.

One must hole back the rushing river
made from desire melting at the peak.
Standing, awaiting, the wall of water.
To hold it back. To keep it from allowing to grow
terrible and evil things in the fertile soul.
Yet every moment, the weight increases.
The Son melts the cold, hardened ice
to give the soul liberty from its threshold.
Eventually, at long last, it lessens.
The soiled water begins to evaporate
as the Son continues to work.
It heats the water asunder into ether.
The fist burden is through,
but what water passed through your grip
has begun to cultivate evil below.
Evil that grows in the soul
is tougher to destroy than
that of the infertile peak.

Alas, another trial awaits.

Copyright © Nicholas Westerhausen | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |

Evil Mystic Water Well

What wells up inside
Down the dark hole coins are tossed for luck
Barriers, born on fear are near at hand

Islanders surface from the past for gambling
Dice people from Taiwan markets dig deep
Mystic water lay five hundred feet below
From here that would make it closer to New York
Under pools dark path
Below, most deep and damp

Moisture lays behind well walls  
There are no floors about the water barrier
So players must throw twice 
No where near here or where they need to be
13 is the only number rolled 13 times
Which makes them times themselves 

Solids form an interior circle of wet cement
From magic forces causing concrete blocks
Without the help of people gathering to stop
Who could stop a concrete block

To the evil power that remains in love with pain
Imposing on the child to fall down the open well
Water understands nothing, has no name, feels cold
Drinks in the love of God, remains inside the quiet 
Flourishes with raw power deep in the nether world
When not being poisoned 
Evil imposes on the child to draw near the shiny coin
That name is mystic water one and the same still on 

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2017