Best Blackening Poems


Splash of Black

Jesus Savior...Pilot Me from walkinginsunlight.com



Across the blackest waters 
ripples of pain,
swell into an anguish splashing 
against the blackest shore, 
and in the rustling of brittle leaves 
                         from the shadows of tallest trees,
the darkness beckons me 
     to climb aboard, climb aboard,
                     an empty boat waiting 
                           upon the blackest shore.

Through depths of night, I ride atop 
the black of cavernous waves.
They seem to be a hollow echo 
calling out my name 
from the splashing of the oars 
            to the splashing of my pain
against the rocking boat 
                    in the blackening of waves. 

Across the water, I stir the black 
                                    and do not feel afraid,
but wonder if the water knows it holds 
my every pain 
             my every shame
                         and every tear
cried out on my darkest days.

Then, from the other side, I hear the splash 
of steady rain.
The purging from above seems to calm 
my darkest pain.

I dip the oars deeper still 
to head for waiting shores,
and from the water's floor,
                        bubbling, rising
                             more and more,
I hear the splashing, 
                          splashing
of my own resounding laughter. 
Then, a calm lightens my struggle
as the sunrise pales
           my dark disasters,

and in the glare of morning
from bright sunbeams above,
I remember with a prayer,
I am loved.
      I am loved
            I am loved.  


Written 6/4/20 for Kai Michael Neumann's
Splash Poetry Contest

Premium Member Dark Rainstorm

The chaotic cadence of falling rain
begins striking the pavement in evening's hours.
Up on the roof I hear the steady gain

of drops as sprinkling now becomes a shower.
The last of daylight's doves have all been slain
by a murder of crows in midnight flower.

Pins of light in puddles are raptors' eyes
that watch with growing fire the blackening skies.


Odd lines 1-7: ten syllables
Even lines 2-8:  eleven syllables

Premium Member I Love You

I Love You

Smokers of the world unite
Keep that ciggie burning bright
Nick O’Teen is having fun
Clogging, blackening the lung

Don’t you know that it aint smart
To let that fiend into your heart
There won’t be any looking back
After fatal heart attack

And when the girl that you adore
Says she’ll kiss your lips no more
She’s looking for a smoke free zone
Leaves you standing all alone

When you're just a year from death
Pleading, begging your next breath
Even though you've never seen her
Meet your new friend Emphysema

So smokers of the world unite
Keep that ciggie burning bright
You'll never have a friend so true
When every drag says, I love you




This mixed message was brought to you by
The Devil Himself Hua hua hua hua


Premium Member The Tall Ships Burn

Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
singed by sullen Sol, not stayed by Poseidon's hand;
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.

Impenitent, sky rains ash blackening the night.
Fire sends a smoky pall upon the sea and land,
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.

Fire eats: the air, snuffs man's breath; highlighting their plight,
all hands on deck, the Captain calls, out his command.
Aflame, aflame, tall ship burns, see their masts ignite.

Hell's inferno comes calling on this sun lit night,
foul winds blow, fire roars, and so the flames are fanned;
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.

Without their ship, crews are lost to a debtors blight.
Up the went like scarecrows shriven by the brand,
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.

Cinder shower catch the dock; workers run in fright.
Pain and heartache fill the wharf; still, they must disband.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
aflame, aflame, tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.

Keelmen Heaving in Coals by Night' by Turner

Published by Dual Coast 2014

Premium Member She-Tiger

SHE-TIGER

She-Tiger patiently watches,
 In shadows,
Dark concealing realm,
Green eyes pierce nights,
 Blackening shroud.
Ever weary, seeking motions,
 Movements,
Beware the bush itself seems,
 To come alive,
Beneath moonlights twilight mists,
Heavy foot steps cautiously,
 Tread.
Traveling along a carnalistic path,
Deaths servant stalks it's prey.
Revealing raw natures twisted fate,
In her flashing gaze, ageless,
 Wisdom lies,
This huntress most majestic.
Sleek jungle mistress, fearlessly,
Striding.
Forgotten trails cutting,
 Edges unyielding,
Patrolling vast wilderness.
Drink deeply clear waters purity,
No other creature dares,
 Come near thee.
Forests chameleon, hidden,
Amongst bamboo thickets.
Camouflages golden blends,
 Are parted,
By divisions striped bands.
Feeding legacies future brood.
Crowns glorious jewels,
 Young cubs at play,
Learning life’s lessons to be,
Remembered someday.
Rough dull stones at first,
Finely polished y age,
One day they'll sparkle,
Under sunshine's rays.
Royalties queen, stands tall,
Upon prides rock,
Surveying an evergreen,
 Kingdom.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
© Cherl Dunn  Create an image from this poem.

Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 18

I studied him, just as he studied me
I in disgust, confusion, and he in angry fantasy
His eyes, black, and yet still blackening
He embraced me with a terrible fit in his mind
Those piercing eyes, saturated in obsession,
Moving up and down my steady body
He watched as I drew in resolved breaths
Sensing my growing antipathy
Beyond the ease in my tone
He shook with want
He shook with angst

“Your dark thoughts are not hidden in my sight
This you will know by my piercing stare
There is power in words, 
Just as there is power in your glare” 

“Then breathe with me,” He sung with sting,
“And free all of your wants and cares…
Be the master of your own destiny,
And with your straying light, impair
Me, just as you impair your faith,
Against all but your own breast,
Penetrate
Seize our moments with pursed desire
Dress me in your sweet sung fire
Darling dear, our message is clear
Among this fight we share
Take a sip of my saccharine whip 
And consume the inviting dare
Be my temp as I lure you
Deceive me as I floor you
Damask me, shock me, piss on my pride,
I dare your soul to take these reigns and ride”

In my ears he sung, 
“Let us be lost together…”
Like a roaring sea trapped in a restricted bowl
Ready to overflow the moment my lips consent

“Hellbent you are,” I sadly sung
“Hellbent, and dragging all the lonely with you,
How strange we have come to these crossroads,
To test our patience with lusts unspent
Hellbent, you are, hellbent!
And yet you would croak to crush all heaven-sent
Give me into your darkness, never see the day
Follow me into the light, and never be the same!
You are my lovely enticement, oh Devil, oh Prince,
Your claws clutch in my knowing heart,
And I thrash in diffidence
Emboldening me, your lure,
The stone in you has fled
Grow in this desire, sweet wings
Your light is yet not dead”

Holding me, I felt his darkness lathering me
My eyes, my nostrils, blurred in his scent 
“Your light is yet not dead…” I whispered again
Fainting, eyes struggling to stay awake,
I clasped his shoulder and shook my head

For in his eyes he realized,
That his light was yet not dead


Woodland Dusk

At the fold of day
a veil shrouds the hills
as rising fog drifts
over tapering fields.

Rain falls softly,
dimpling the river.
It’s sombre waters swaggering
beneath a narrow bridge.

Rambling oak trees line
the steep grassy banks.
Ferns furl
their long slender fingers
into tight fists.
They recoil
into rooted mouldy stone.

Moss carpets the woodland,
the earthy air, damp
as dusk slinks in.

A murder of crows
sweep the sky
smothering the light. 
Squabbling
they swoop to roost
on tall tree tops.

Settling,
a rustling murmur
whispers softly, sweetly.
They sleep
under a saffron moon.

silenced
by a blackening night.
© Eiken Laan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Aflame Reversed

Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
singed by sullen Sol, not stayed by Poseidon's hand;
aflame, aflame, the tall ship burns, see the masts ignite.

Unpenitent the sky rains ash blackening the night
the fire sends a smoky pall upon the sea and land
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.

Fire eats the air, it snuffs man's breath, death maybe their plight,
yet, all hands come to the Captains call, his to command
aflame, aflame, the tall ship burns, see the masts ignite.

Hell's inferno's come a calling on this sun lit night
a foul wind blows, the fire roars, and so the flames are fanned
burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight.

Without their ship, the crew were lost, debtors they'd alight
they went up like straw scarecrows shriven by the brand
aflame, aflame, the tall ships burn, see their masts ignite.

Burning cinders catch the dock, the workers run in fright.
Pain and heart ache fill the wharf still they must disband.
Burnished gold, aged bronze patinaed by the firelight
aflame, aflame, the tall ship burns, see the masts ignite.


See About the poem

Premium Member If I Were the Color of Love - 1

If I were the color of darkness
Night blackening my vision
While my eyes twinkle gentle
Like the stars, drifting in song
Caressing the sky with tones
Of life beyond the blessings

If I were the color of laughter
Lighting the soul with joy
Elating the world with warmth
Vibrant and pure, feelings so true
They cry out with delight
Insight into the heart’s beauty

If I were the color of storms
Rainbows pouring across the noon
After the rain has departed
Left only the music of pastel lines
To embrace the mind who sees
God’s artwork flowing over the trees

If I were the color of silence
Serene and soulful as peaceful dreams
Faded into the smiles of kindness
Brought to the one who knows only
Prayers felt on the heart’s shadows
Praising the Lord for His stillness

If I were the color of blessings
Sent on the wings of angel’s breath
Shining on hopes and devotions
Reflecting on the simplicity of joy
That lingers on the touch of His hand
Reaching down to my spirit with a caress

If I were the color of love
I would sing to God above of the many
Miracles He’s given me in this life
And thank Him for grace, faith and more…
The sense of purpose that comes from
Living for the Son who is so pure and good!

Premium Member Having Felled It

The warmth no longer comes
it seems to only leave.

The furry ones, all
caught in hypnotic disbelief:
hardening ground's
taken root
where once
gardening grounds
(forsaken, mute)
were once and again
makin' fruit.

Each beast, shaking
like a leaf
(though, truth be told
I've only ever 
seen 'em dance)
as if to compel
the sun to
sidle up
'n stay a bit.

The butterflies are all turned
to windblown, drying leaves.

The biting clouds of gnats
are now 
the biting cold of early flakes.
All hatched and reared
(the secret thrush, the ungainly, splashtering loon, 
the burly snakes)
as evening hurries home
to be home for the night.
It's so early, so late.

The fatted robin's gone
just as the field mice hid
from barn-now-lapcat.
This constellation of crows,
a raucous perch, tried 
that hiding ploy: their clotted knotted
silhouetted faux-leaf blackening hide out
where the leaves’d lived but crows are not
meant to blot the low sun as they’d plotted...
And so it was as so its been since Oh, so ever since -
a bird of prey, answered their
plaintive caws with painted claws -
a fracturous startle from above
a crash!  a cry!  a scattering!
one down, one murder
still.

Nothing softens, nothing greens.
No flowering as Southern urges
force flocks into making V-lines.
Each nest left: all break routines.
Summer is souring, as frost emerges
and last-one-picked, the pines -
lefties left in left field;
icing soon, their needles their shield
and, the coach never intervenes...

The light more slow to show
more tugged and bent to slant.
The sunshafts seem to push
the cold ahead as snow by plows.
And for our part we too as well 
well, we turn away, turn indoors.
We turn our dreams to
make-it-through this.

We turn our collars up, 
and too, our eyes to floors.
We turn our (each seems to)
thoughts inside this shell
not towards Inner but 
rather, of course, truly from-
far and away from the 
Cold & Falling, closing crisp.
How unlike the Scholar's Cup!

Our husks indoors,
our thoughts follow
but burrow deeper still.
Don't blame the light
for not keeping company
so deep where hides 
a fearful, frigid 'you.'

It's Autumn
all turns on
one point.

It's Autumn
Fall burns on.

It's Autumn
sun burns on
one point
(of light.)

I have never felled so alive
as now.

Old Age

It came upon me unawares
As I bargained to make a living.
Thus absorbed in daily cares
The years I deemed forgiving.

Getting old was ages away
I told myself each new year.
"I'm still young," I liked to say,
"I'm certain to stay right here."

But the clock began to chime
Messages in muted tones.
I was running out of time,
A blackening in the bones.

I felt it too in others' acts
Addressing me as sir.
They excused my mislaid facts
Ever pretending I didn't err.

A godly mercy attends old age,
The past becomes a blur.
It eases one off life's stage
Thinking things that never were.

Premium Member The Prairie Fire

Fire races across the prairie grassland  
Scorching and searing anything that it pleased
With fear and fury it caused destruction all along
Destroying in it's path all that does not belong.

Sparkling ash swirls and dances on ahead
Coating,blackening everything in it's path 
The flame reaches out for what is near
Causing destruction, panic and fear.


The smoke quickly fills the air
Smothering all within it's grasp
Choking, black soot hanging heavily
Suffocating all that with stood it's wrath.

Once  that was lush for the picking
Now becomes a bleak, lifeless charcoal waste
Where all living souls become displaced
In this land that is now waste.

Lovefruition

Th’ night sky dyed a berryblue hue,
Beneath th olive river blackening,
Her breath rich with grape nectar,
Her hair a nebula of lime & pumpkin.

Orange peels by th curbside,
Yellow pulp by th curbside,

Old Greek sidewalk lemonade.

Rose apples sitting with th china pear,
Sweet lust littering her secret ivy thoroughfare;

Moonlight pink upon her blushing bosom,
Th Universe in trapped in her ocular dew,
Cosmic sailors lost in her white coconut ocean,
Pleas forgotten as she raptured through. 

Lead her not to temptation,
For she has found it herself;

This is th Love Fruition.

Politics and Corona

Corona is becoming a field
              For cultivating politics,
Political crop may be ripened
             Putting risk to the public.

Hindu-Muslim deadly virus 
             Is dangerous than corona,
It is time for global piece
             Not to do ‘Baba’ or ‘maulana’.

Man may be mortal
             But humanity remains alive,
Where humanity got raped
            Human chain can’t survive.

I adore innovative politics
            That strengthen our race,
We should leave that game
           That blackening our face.

Please don’t try to cut
           The branch where you sit,
Once arrow left from bow
            You lost control on it.

You may rule like ‘Hitler’
            Putting the nation in danger.
When nation will be ravaged
            It will become your killer.

Polio and small pox got killed
               Starvation taken long rest,
Please believe both God & science
                They will sure give best.

Don’t try to catch the fish
              Putting poison in water,
Once whole water will be poisoned
             You will be no more forever.
========================
NB : Baba means Hindu sage

Premium Member Frightful Forecast

Weather forecast so frightful, so scary
   It removes from this season the 'merry'

Howling winds and blowing snowdrifts
   Force your car off the edge of a cliff

Visibility of less than half and inch
   Makes an experienced aviator flinch 

700 flights canceled in and out of O'Hare
   Frustrated travelers curse, cuss and swear

On bridges and overpasses icy conditions
   Blackening every commuter's disposition

Travel advisories constantly warn of the worst
   For those on the road in this accursed cloudburst

Oh, that I'd been created as a great big black bear
   ~ So I could tune all this out -- fast asleep in my lair

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace