Best Bleak Poems

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

- Excerpt from A Christmas Carol by Christina Rossetti

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My mirror-face is pinched pallid as, colourlessly, I go...

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alone
wrapped up in deep 
melancholy I yearn
for the dark shadows to dissolve…
my doubts


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Cinquain Poetry Contest
Hosted by William Kekaula
Placed 1st
© 4th February 2020...

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Except for the snow, it’s a monochromatic scene
The pond is frozen to a reflecting mirror finish,
In the fields there is not a speck of green to behold
Overall, the countryside is bleak in winter’s cold,
With clumps of sage punctuating the near pasture
The trees have given up...

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Blinded by pain
blanketed by darkness
shrouded in misery
i stare into space
is there an eternity ?

engulfed in emptiness
bleakness consumes me
i reach out for deliverance
but the clutches of my demons
push me in deeper

lost in a maze
i feel life pulsating
in the tears which escape me
in the vapid heartbeat
in the...

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Who of us by late September long to be in bleak November?
A month that in this frigid clime is dark and dreary, out of rhyme.
Leaves all spent and soggy lie beneath a gray and grizzled sky.
The few that cling to sturdy oak are brown and...

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They know every word from the Good Book,
but that doesn’t stop them from being hooked
to all kinds of mess.
A driver hits a pedestrian in broad daylight,
and blames it on the chewing of khat.
Students forget their intellectual pioneers,
and take soccer betting as their careers.
Quack doctors unknowingly...

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Bleak Days


cold bleak days of life
may visit in future time
with hardships unknown
bonded as one side by side
warm love will ease our frostbite


© Sandra M. Haight 2015 
   All Rights Reserved


~4th Place~
Contest: Get Romantic ~ Visual 7
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 03/06/2015

Syllables checked:  5-7-5-7-7



....

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Beneath the bleak November sky--
Standing, my back to the setting sun.
Chill wind slamming against me,
Tears flowing down my upturned face.
Staring into the oncoming darkness,
Overwhelmed by pain and fear. 
Alone, facing the encroaching night.
The shadows are drawing nearer.
They have almost eclipsed me.
But suddenly I hear your...

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Pictures
of summer-
on screen arouse
a daylily dream as
I browse.

pictures and music at
http://www.gooddaylilies.net/...

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In Bleak reflection

I speak

I think

I write

I later day post

My problems then both
shared and doubled

And so to reflect my
bleak outlook onto
unsuspecting other's

Bleak House

Bleak Life

Bleak in tongues i speak
, i scribe , i script

Bleak i wretch and so to
in other's view broken
bits of me

Because Bleak is obviously
everything...

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Overgrown with trees and weeds,
abandoned long by men and breeds,
still,haunting darkness reigns
into this forest,the mossy path leads.

Inhabited by ferocious brutes
and unknown trees laden with red fruits,
walk seems prolonged,yet energising,
the path being punctuated by protruding roots.

There,amidst the aphotic forest,stands a bleak wall,
with cracks and crevices,it's about...

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It was over in Brooklyn,
No, not a Met’s game.
God forbid that.
“The world was, it was, in some off-hand manner, never meant to go right.”
In which the first man jumped.

It was all over really, 
That 12 million people were out of work, 
There were already poor...

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severely fragmented flashes
lead to blank frustration
never computed to what
my body does,
what other bodies do.

it's not gluttony, it's emptiness-
i always have something in my hand.

the mirror in my mind grasps
at different concepts of myself
like a pawn shop
how much can i get for
this
other options
newer models.

i am happy...

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Boiling shells crack down hard upon raining rooftops
None doth any apparitional material cover upon her arrogant gift
She hast not laid down upon her last upstanding
Glass convails images of the inconceivable 
Throwing away the Sun in blackened sickness 
No guilt, no shame, 
Unfeeling the inevitable eternal...

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Bleak February,
masquerading as the month of love,
though no redeeming qualities are born in you.

No purple berry
nor fuchsia flower blooming brightly,
just sighing earth between pale moons of snow.

The garden fairy
sleeps undisturbed in frozen blankets,
waiting for sweet robins to awaken her.

Heavy to carry,
this dreary pause in changing...

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