Writing Dark Poems

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Details | Sonnet |
Bitter Harvest Of Thy Wickedness

Thou hast slain thousands for that golden throne
Sleep in peace upon a silk laden bed.
Why now in old age, do thy dare to moan
In deep fear of ghosts of those murdered dead?

Are not thy treasure vaults filled to the brim
With stolen wealth from lambs of this dark world?
Yet thy black heart, feels the murder of him
And that Heaven bolt that may soon be hurled!

Triumph in destruction tis' bitter fruit
And thy wicked soul now sees the true light
Yet thou sprang from dark tree's most evil root
To try to bring forth never ending night!

Thou hast slain thousands for that golden throne.
Why now in old age, do thou dare to moan?

R. J. Lindley,
Jan. 11th, 1980

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Words demand be written.
Ink begins to flow.
Sentences form.
Thoughts race.
Like raindrops down a window. 
There's a lake in my mind 
And it's always raining.
Where does the water escape?
Where can words go?
They flow through my veins,
Like blood or poison.
They sustain me
Destroy me.
Can I find a place to rest? 
Who can save me?
Am I redeemable?
The words flow to my fingers,
Like water through the veins of a rock.
I am no longer in control.
Sometimes it makes sense.
Sometimes I am crazy.
Sometimes, the words refuse to fit.
They are either territorial or 
They combine and the sentences form. 
No matter what, all I know, is that
Words demand to be written,
Ink begins to flow. 

Copyright © Brynn Rose | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
50 shades of therapy
50 shades of restraining orders
50 shades of rejection
50 shades of addiction
50 shades of suicide
50 shades of rainy days
50 shades of cloudy ways
50 shades of jazz and blues
50 shades of painful memories
50 shades of wartime wounds
50 shades of political doom
50 shades of curtains and drapes
50 shades of a lovers disgrace
50 shades of cereal box tops
50 shades of graveyard graves
50 shades of wistful thoughts
50 shades of pure silk white
50 shades of legal fights
50 shades of everyday light
50 shades of tasteful delights
50 shades of pure sheer fright
50 shades of milking cow
50 shades of milking an idea
50 shades of comical prose
50 shades of sunglasses
X 2
Cause I am tired

50 shades of age

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Romanticism |
I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.

My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.

I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!

Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.

Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.

I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.

I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.

I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
She's broken.
She just wanted her thoughts to be spoken.
For her words to mean something,
For her words to be affecting.

But she feels worthless.
Her dream was to become an actress,
to inspire others ti achieve their dreams,
but she had fallen in the streams.

She lost all of her hope,
having no way to cope. 
She wakes up every morning,
ready to start acting. 

She puts on her mask,
hoping for someone to ask,
hoping for someone to realize
how long this has been going on, and apologize.

Yet no one seems to care,
she feels like she shouldn't be there.
Since no one seems to notice her,
that is what she has inferred.

But then someone spoke up,
noticed how she was lost like a pup.
So they decided to help,
she first yelped.

For she never knew how to accept,
she only knew she wept.
Later, she saw light,
and shone bright.

She finally saw that she was someone,
not a no one,
but she meant something.
She was finally acknowledging

Her true beauty,
she found her true duty,
to help others,
and make things better.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
you won’t listen to me, so i write to you on my arms. 
this one says i needed you and you weren’t there. 
this one says i’m bleeding but you don’t care. 
i wrote you this one out of despair, 
seemed like you always had to be at some other somewhere,
and it hurts, because it’s me you’re dismissin’, 
with no time to listen, just need your attention, 
it’s your touch i’m missin’, look me in my eye,
i know you see my letters, so why don’t i get a reply?
i guess it’s worth it just to try, 
to get you to notice me just one more time, 
write you just one last line, 
but i’m runnin’ out of time ‘cause i’m runnin’ out of ink, 
needin’ more time to think, 
but i don’t have it, so i sign my last letter and address it to you,
i hope this one gets through

Copyright © Erin Evans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Dear Sir:
I realize you’ve been busy, so I’m sending a  letter of distress
Postmarked today, addressing my quality of living
Since the last time we told our life stories
Sewed the seams between our broken dreams and 
Seen the world through the eyes of the needle
Tiny and volitional

Since our foggy self-destruction,
Misplaced priorities and miscommunication
On every lonely person’s face, I see my own
Reflected in the spaces between our parallel lines
That should be meeting at Infinity

Please send me a post card when you get there
I want to know what Love looks like

I keep 
Doin’ and doin’ and doin’ my thang
Stacking up that green and 
Piling on the makeup between each scene
Stealing hearts and pulverizing them with each time
I blink
You know…
All those honest ways of making a living

Collapse into bed every night only to close my eyes
And be haunted by dark thoughts of you
Urgently and Daftly my pen 
Spills raven-hued rivers of devotion
Onto this piece of paper
Hoping to soak into you

Dear Sir, 
To get to the heart of my request

Open the ocean to me
The dark sea of your deceit
Drown me deeply in your lies and suffocate me with your
Transparent desperate pleas

Dear Sir, cure me of this loneliness
Charge me of suicide and let me crash into you
Kamikaze Lovers

I understand the risk
I'll take my chances
Openly armed and ready for the world
In those intense brown eyes

Stopping my breath and caving in
To see the world so clearly again

Awaiting your response to my confessions


Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme |

Not going to adjourn
Since you never learn
Going to make you squirm
More than a worm
With a stance that is firm
Then make you burn
So that you never return
Showing no concern

No more chances
Or free passes
You'll find out what happens
Over such foolish actions
When you are thrown into sulphuric acid
Or taken out through using gases
Then put below the grasses
And any branches
The universe continues on, as the scales tilt or balance
Whether it was done in good will or from being callous

Once or twice
Might not take your life
But make you pay the price
With the ultimate sacrifice
The outcome chosen by a roll of the dice
Since you never took advice
I think this should suffice
And if not then it will not end nice
Getting eaten alive by rats and mice

Too late to take back what you said
Going to bring you to the edge
And toss you from the ledge
Doesn't matter where you land or if it's on a hedge
So long as you remain dead
Oh well many other lifeforms will get fed
Body parts including the head, brought back to a den
Never seen or heard from again

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |
In Each Dark Battle Are Gems Still Hiding

I linger far too long in past glances
repairing my heart from such ancient pains.
I that carelessly took too many chances
now look back at far, far too many stains.

No shadows that follow bear good tidings
where tired spirit seeks safe shade and deep rests.
In each dark battle are gems still hiding
in green forests upon snow covered crests.

Long has been the widening path taken
where night-moon and bright sun upon man shine.
All seems so lost but hope is not forsaken
death is dark-food upon which Fate does dine.

Tarry not, road slows, end-game is in sight.
There sleep, basking in its eternal light.

R.J. Lindley

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Candles burn low flickering,
brilliance ebbs with each flurry;
Focus fades midst bickering
waxing cold, dreams get blurry.
Slipping away, day by day

Wicks grow short the consequence
of waste and careless trimming;
Message lacks a permanence
because of dogged dimming.
Slipping away, cannot stay

Vigilance would glorify
hope as the light that kindles;
our darkness does signify
negligence, burned-out candles.
Slip-sliding far, far away

written 22 May 2016

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Coming in faster than speed racer
Heart colder than a glacier

Trying to duplicate the flavor
Another clout chaser
With or without a pace maker
And bracers
Soft as a wafer

Yet another copy cat
You're wrong for that
Going to one up you chumps, with or without a hockey mask

For ages I've been at the bottom, reaching for the top
More than a lot
Attempting to plot and stir up the pot
Whether the temperature cold or hot
Like it or not
They'll get caught
And put on the spot
Having to pay the cost
For such foolish talk

Regarding any parameters
Days and nights may or may have not been spectacular
I guess there's always been scavengers
And bandwagoners
As well as opposition and challengers
Whether or not their ambassadors
During any date on the calendar
It was either solved or obscure, by any medical examiner
Above and below any fields with or without lavender

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |
Havana girls, cherry hearts
Bad girls from Mars
Miss july, mad money
Say hey-yeah, hey-yeah

Glitter is a girl’s best friend
Only a pair of diamond earrings can make me happy
Gold and fur completes my soul
Cleopatra and diamond lust

Corals in my eyes and love is in my hair
I’m a girl with pearl earrings, a girl with golden eyes
I see a stripper with a pink wig and cat eyes
Oh, hello little daisy

Havana girls, cherry hearts
Bad girls from Mars
Miss july, mad money
Say hey-yeah, hey-yeah

Coconut taste on my lips
Red roses in my garden
Teen-age gangsters
And I’m feeling like I’m home again

Palm springs, fairy wings
Hey there, Little Red Riding Hood
Misery loves whiskey turns on my soul
Don’t judge me and say hey-yeah, hey-yeah

Havana girls, cherry hearts
Bad girls from Mars
Miss july, mad money
Say hey-yeah, hey-yeah

Havana girls, cherry hearts
Bad girls from Mars
Miss july, mad money
Say hey-yeah, hey-yeah

Copyright © Floral Flowers | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |

The first thing in my morning is the rain
that grabs hold of me in deep memory
of a world of pain of yesterday's
while I could still hear the angry words
that play inside my head like a sad old rhyme
that fades out with time
I'm tired of the way things have always been
where lies keep seeping in 
while life is on the sail of a living hell
but I am the master of this sea in darken dreams
I was broken from a very young age
but life can easely change
I write my story in poems for all to read
I know things aren't easy for the eyes 
but for the mind it travails through time
I see how others look at me 
like they understand my pains
that bleed deep within me
feelings that burn heavy in my soul
it's hard for me to let it all go
the heartaches from long ago
I take what I know to message out my hurt
that veins around my heart
where age is now becoming a life of lessons
that makes my voices speak out in ink
my brain holds many things
I see the beauty of life 
even in a world that isn't nice
where I look over the pains that made me cry
Pains of love and loss
in the abyss of darken dreams
that makes me scream
I still find away to see the beauty of the day
no matter the pain that others gave
Oh how the bullets fly deep into the night
taken down more lives
Oh let the rain pour 
because evil is always at the door 
for the rich and the poor
my mind is always at work
like ancient clock that never stops
tick , tock another drop 
of rain and pain that came my way
I send out my prayers for all that was shoot
and for the ones that wasn't 
All the hate in this darken world of pain
brings on more rain each day
I was bleeding out like the sea in all my dreams
I had fallen in a cold crowd
that kept screaming out more lies 
just to keep others blind of the time 
I look up at the deep gray sky 
where heavy clouds hang around 
where the wind blows like a moan
where ashes of life spreads upon the grounds
of an old broken town
where all hope is lost 
where feeling are pouring out like rain
where many has gone insain 
but no one wants to take the blame 
of their own shame
but again it is apart of the hateful game 
they love to play
they never did , or ever lived the flow of a healthy life
they only wanted what is bowing in the night
they love the trill of pain they bring my way 
broken is where I lay 
broken is the door of pouring rain.

Poetic Judy Emery

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

No longer dreaming
Just proceeding
Without cheating
I am achieving
More than I ever was believing
Every single evening
Now my impressions are leaving
Even more meaning
To other human beings
While I am still breathing

It's time to make this year better
Despite all the weird weather

My dome vexed
I felt my bones flex
Across stone steps
After being shown less
Before pushing past the home stretch
With all chromosomes left
I then took over the throne next
And any other opposition with cloned flesh
Nearby a crows nest

Now ain't that some shit
As they like to say payback's a bitch

The light from the sun shines
Amid the pines
Where there was an abandoned mine
For a long time

The only hound stood
But how could
It sound good
All around the hood
When I doubt it would

It didn't matter if it ever would place in a chart
Because it was straight from the heart
Even when the day was dark
Across the bay and park
Beside all the waves and sharks

The flu hit
And the air was too thick
But I put out some even more true shit
Because the shoe fit
And it was the best way to do it
With very few tricks
While talking to some new chicks

A ship that got stopped atop the rocks sank
While there was an ever increasing fog bank
Some continued to give god thanks
While the size of several bogs shrank
I was feeling like I was in quite an odd place
If I never had it, then how could I ever have lost faith?

Vehicles at different rates going zero to sixty
Some of which go beyond one hundred and fifty
During winter smoke coming out the chimney
In the country and city
People walking their dogs and playing in the park with a Frisbee
Carbonation making it all fizzy
Spinning, all about now feeling dizzy
Areas spotless or really filthy
Objects and animals, tall average or mini
In the end the crime scene was grisly

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Before work burned something potent
Then checked a trap inside was a dead rodent
It got disposed quick
No coffin, tombstone or roses

Realize it won't always be harmonious
Sometimes it may be odious

Here is my notion and diagnosis
I've got to own it
And enjoy the moment
Not worried about any opponent
Just keeping focus
Ready to take care of the onus
Realizing I will and won't earn an occasional bonus

Do you believe in totems or omens?
Can you relate to any of my poems?

Better get on it while the door opens
Before it closes

Above and below the oceans
The universe in constant motion

A near endless amount of slogans
Some of which are rather bogus

It's wise to have devotion
Staying consistent, working hard toward a promotion

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |

Moonlight revels her pains,
In a world of shame
where fears lay
in decay of a darken life,

in the storm of hate
where rage is always near
to all that can hear the noise
where rain of agony falls,

Oh, flowing tears 
upon the Mediterranean Sea
in darken dreams;
where screams of swiftly lies
hold deep into the night,

Oh, velvet moon 
you had given bright eye
in late June;
where love has fastened
to a place of faith,

Where the brittle minds
could never find;
where words of hate 
comes to the trackless smiling face
that holds frozen emotions 
of an ancient time,

the sky became more gray
all hearts gone numb 
walking around dumb
being a bum
crying in agony of darkness,

where no love could ever be found,
where hearts are all bond;
in a place, you true decay
to all those who has lost their way,
a place to never be found,

in terror, they all did sink 
but Moonlight she only has 
broken wings in darken dreams.

Poetic Judy Emery © 2017
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

The art of my pains 
is in the blood stain ink of me
while I write day and night 
to give insight of me that bleeds
while the world reads ,
this is my own battle cry's 
that are left in my mind 
I see all the dead souls around me
while I dream my darken pains
of the days of rain that hasn't gone away,
I was born in a painful storm
the memories stayed with me 
oh how the pains had cut me deep 
the words that hurt made bigger storms 
I hold my breath like I was dead
thinking it would all end ,
I now realize as I got older 
you cannot fix anyone 
that don't want the help 
so why in the hell did this life paint me
and put me down into a devastated storm 
the past has away to paint my life gray 
this is the art of me that bleeds .
Poetic Judy Emery (c)

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Trying to steal from the poor
And start a global war
What good are you for?

Selling products that kill
So your pockets can get filled
Don't be flabbergasted if your own blood is spilled

No suprise
Another telling continual lies
Is always unwise
And going to decay away covered in swarms of flies
Regarding their demise

No care for the world
Too far gone and about to hurl
Can't even be there for your little girl
There's just no excuse, even if your an earl

Willing to sacrifice your own blood
And the ones you love
Is beyond dumb
Regardless of if your young

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Don't be so naive
In yourself, you better believe
While trying to achieve

Nothings perfect or always guaranteed

Staying keen
In and out of ravines
Near and far from machines
With similar and different routines

Too much fluctuation in objects, food and gasoline
Whether or not you agree
Or know what I mean

So much greed
Daily read about and seen
Meanwhile they sometimes lie and mislead
In person or through a tv screen

Can't always get great sleep or keep my hands clean
My head full of much more than steam
I don't need a guillotine
I'm going to make them bleed
Regardless of if anyone tries to intervene
Nothing will be able to come in between
Indeed you'll see who reigns supreme

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Let's begin
I warned you to not mess with my kin
Yet you still did with a grin

So here I am to do you in
You're not going to win
Or get away by the hair on your chin

How are you going to swim
With no limbs
In waters with shark fins

How are you going to live
When I pull the pin
And throw it towards the exposed skin
On your shin

Que the violin
For you it will turn grim
When I cause you to be gone with wind

Are you dim
And don't you have a kid?
Shouldn't fib
Or expect others to forgive
When you burnt a bridge

Why do you got to be such a blood sucker?
Make you suffer
Worse than you did to others
A number
Of organs will be punctured
So that you eventually are permanently put under
Becoming food for organisms feeling hunger

Give you a kick and some punches
You officially can't be trusted
After displaying such corruption
There shall be justice
By you being punished
Leave you gutted
With a tool that rusted
As you die slowly or all of a sudden
A fitting end for the biggest glutton

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017

Details | Fibonacci |
Behind bars
Scales tipped unbalanced
Lack of harmony breeds this chord
Caged word's rhythmic pounding amplifies a deep, dark funk
Deliverance awaits, the blues scribbled into wall graffiti, notes penned behind bars

Copyright © Rhoda Tripp | Year Posted 2017

Details | Salaam |

Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega

Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Back in roman times I was called a stylus
I wrote messages and stories on papyrus Writing since Before Christ, 
Don't matter what the time is 
Even wrote for the great poets known as the vikings 
I translated Roman-to-English with just hyphens
I can go back and forth on the timeline 
Used by the dude who even wrote "Mein Kampf" 
But before that used for maps to draw islands 
I even wrote that rap and I screamed "BYE STAN!!" 
I've seen everybody’s diaries, but I don't speak 
I write the dreams they have seen, it's punishing... 
I'm their best friend at quiet times 
For poets,and rappers that write rhymes 
Or artists, that compose the lights eyes 
Oops I mean the end of night, it's the "sunrise" 
I cry when they draw their mental picture 
I miss it easy, like the ancient Egyptian scriptures 
Last week I wrote a broken heartfelt letter of a boys dead sister 
His tears made me smear, smudge and bitter as well
 I mean i'm supposed to be emotionless, but this feels like hell 
I guess literature is the only way I help 
This is how I'd explain it, if someone asked how I felt 
I'm literally consumed in everybody’s literacy 
Different languages, but I still know their history.... 
I’m the victim see, every word written composes verbal imagery 
Even carved Mozarts spirit in every symphony 
I take everyones thoughts and write it down lyrically 
Have you solved my mystery? I need some sympathy 
One second i’m drawing so skillfully, then destroying paper so viciously 
So if you’re crazy just like me, take my spot and fight off this infantry 
Then you will see, all these sad letters of these casualties 
Of when France defended against the great Italy 
I’ll riddle more, I was even there when the bible was born 
I was even used for the art of the Tribal of course 
I even wrote of the tale of the Trojan horse 
I even seen the great GRA fight 
GRA meaning arts and culture 
I’m running out of graphite.

Copyright © Trent Billy | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric |
Listen, Listen, Listen -
Open up your eyes and ears
See the starlight, watch it, feel it as it
Glistens, Glistens, Glistens -
Reflecting coldly off the teeth between the gears.

Run, Run, Run -
Come and see what's going down
Watch the people, hear 'em, fear 'em with their
Guns, Guns, Guns -
No time left for us to fool around.

     These things we're doing can't be right
     These deeds done in the dark of night
     We'd better stop and answer the calls
      From the Other Side, stop writing on their walls.

Look, Look, Look -
Read the things we're posting up there
Know the meanings, seek 'em, find 'em in those
Books, Books, Books -
That is, if you really do care.

Getting, Getting, Getting
Ask yourself what you really want
Taste the bitter, weigh it, say it while you're
Fretting, Fretting, Fretting
Over all the things of which you're not so sure.

     These things we're doing can't be right
     These deeds committed in the dark of night
     We'd better stop and answer the calls
     From the Other Side, stop writing on their walls.

     These things we're saying can't be true
     These things we're writing can't be what we want to do
     We'd better stop and listen to the calls
     From the people on the Other Side, and read the writing on the walls.

Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dramatic monologue |
A Dark Fairytale

As I was chained, I breathe in.
As I was burned, I breathe out.
As I was cut, I looked down.
As I was broken, I looked up.
As I was destroyed, I closed away.
I had killed myself damaging beyond any repair.
To keep myself closed I chain, cut, burned, and destroyed what was within me, isolation my fear around me. But suddenly as I had nearly been kindled to a shivering light, something braver and stronger then I appeared and took me and held me and once again I was fixed and this is what happened; 
Suddenly I breathed in as I was unchained.
Suddenly I breathed out as my burns disappeared.
Suddenly I looked up as my broken body mended.
Suddenly I looked down as my cuts faded.
Suddenly I was opened up and my destruction was nothing more then a dream
As my knight, you entered that shadow and held me now I grow with a unprofaned radiance.
I was held once more, and my soul emerged.
I was spoken to once more, and my mind went blank.
I was kissed and my body reacted without a second hesitation.
And before I could run away once more, I was trapped.
Unlike my prison I lived in a fairytale, in were I don’t want to live this place anytime soon. What happened then and what happening now are so fair apart it hilarious.
 I’ve forgiven the past, not forgotten it. Prove never to make the same mistakes or else be locked back inside that tower I call my mind. 
Let me in brave knight, into your mysterious ways.
Let me in brave knight let me have secret passages into that world of yours. 
Let me in brave knight so I can truly capture you. 
I was as cold as ice even more then winters hail, but you with a ridged past that icier then I could have imagined is as warm as the summer sun and sweet like spring air.
For saving me, for taking my heart, for releasing me, I’ll become everything you want and then more, I’ll stand by your side and hold you like you held me and I shall be everything you need.
My sweet Knight.

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
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 |
Ones who wage,
Ones who rage,
Ones who take,
Ones who pay,
Ones who craze,
Ones who rave,
Ones who crave…

Ones who fear,
Ones who breathe,
Ones who give,
Ones who need,
Ones who will,
Ones who weave…

Ones who plead,
Ones who beg,
Ones who beseech,
Ones who entreat,
Ones who appeal,
Ones who volunteer,
Ones who disappear…

The ones who follow,
The ones that don’t know about tomorrow,
The ones who don’t deserve the morrow…

The ones who sleep,
The ones who cry,
The ones who live,
The ones who die…

The ones who proclaim,
Those who say they create,
The ones who ache,
The ones who don’t wait,
The ones who hesitate,
The ones who don’t concentrate,
The ones who fornicate,
The ones who procrastinate…

Those who fall in temptation,
Those who get in frustration,
Those who sometimes feel desperation,
Those who keep going without caution,
Those in motion,
Those in tension,
Those losing notion,
Those being poisoned,
Those getting in distortion,
Those following the broken diction,
Those dying like the billions,
Those without unction,
Those washed in the oceans…

I might seem cold,
But it is you who is bold.
I might not express,
But it is you who doesn’t let me progress.
I might not seem like I seek,
But it is you who doesn’t know me…
I might seem like I need,
But it is you who might always be begging on your knees.
I might seem dull,
But it is the one that is fool.
I might not be alight,
But it is you who isn’t truly alive…

I will remain neutral,
I will remain silver,
I will remain gray,
I feel darkness,
I feel light,
I will remain hallowed…,
After all, it is you who deserves no life…

I am a metal hawk,
I am a mountain goat,
I am a silver bird,
I am a gray wolf,
I am a white tiger,
I am a mystic rose…,
I am I…

I’m alive,
And I survive,
You are here,
However, it is you who deserves no life…

Being human does not imply that you have humanity…

Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
The Witch That Sought To Curse Me

Pain that cuts as a chill to the bone
she, she beats my heart upon her stone
Winged angels she defies and sends away
her curses eat into my night and day

No forgiveness does her heart ever give
as her cries follow me wherever I live
Had I only yielded  to her deep desires
her imps would still be in her fires

Nights, the hordes descend upon my head
evil blackness engulfs my shaking bed
Her minions sent to exact dark revenge
any more, my mind will become unhinged

Her crawling snakes hissing so foul
can see them striking out even now
Soon my heart feels her teeth bite
I refuse to yield with all my might

This witch was an angel that did sing
until I put on her evil marriage ring
Tonight torture will be dealt a blow
found, a cure to make her swiftly go

Verses to set like upon darkened like 
light's own mercy is about to strike
She is now bound by her own wicked glee
by my cutting her image into a dead tree

I used great wisdom from the Holy three
sought greater powers to set my Soul free...

Robert J. Lindley, 10-06-2014

Note: Inspired in part by the results of my 
second marriage and its ending.
Presented in honor of the dark season approaching now.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Their petals are falling as their colors change
It wasn’t this way before but is it strange?
These roses are dying in delicate sweet sorrow
Will their love shed too? Or will it see tomorrow?
Petals and love falling slow like soft snowflakes
A little change in season is all it takes,
But will these roses bloom again in a new morn?
Will their love come back to greatly adorn?

Will their beauty be gone forever once it fades away?
Or will it come back to make everything okay?
For what will the roses be worth if their beauty dies forever?
Will the image and value from them permanently sever?
Will the light in their eyes suddenly become dark?
As their splendor and significance steadily grow stark? 
Or will they rise like light at the beginning of dawn?
And be reborn more beautiful than a swan?

Copyright © Literrius Miller | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sestina |
It’s easy for them not to try
when their love shines as bright as the Northern Star.
I’m thinking about you and I can’t stop
wishing you were right next to me all the time.
But you’re just too blind to see the story
we make when we’re together. I hate

that I sometimes think that you hate
the idea of us being together. There’s no use to try
to ask for something more. Your eyes tell a story
when you smile. You could be the star
in the movie called “My Life”. Maybe over time
you’ll change your mind and stop

denying what I feel for you. I have to stop
being scared that you might start to hate
everything I do. We’re not like that. Time
can only prove how eternal we are. Try
to see me as more than just a star
in your night sky. I can be your moon and our story

doesn’t have to end. We don’t have to be a short story
a seventh grader wrote. Our clocks don’t have to stop
ticking. We can last forever just like a star
does in the sky. Even though it died years ago, we don’t hate
it because it still illuminates the cold nights. Can you try
to imagine us together? I’m not wasting my time

no matter how much you say I am. One time,
 I remember, you said you were writing your first story
and I asked you if you were going to try
to include me in it. You begged me to stop
and to go away. You screamed, “I hate
you, you freak.” and I felt like a star

falling from the sky. People think a star
can solve all of their problems. But the time
you got the restraining order proved that you hate
letting other forces solve your problems. And the story
you tell about me is just lies now. I won’t stop
loving everything you do even if you don’t try.

I try to love the fact that you’re now a star.
But I can’t stop thinking about you all the time,
and that maybe your story, “The Stalker”, is based on hate.

Copyright © Luka Obradovic | Year Posted 2016