Best Dead Of Night Poems
Stealth in the dead of night
His advance afloat evanescent waves
Gliding ever so gently
Hovering on a cloud of velvet
Lurking like a thief
His approach on pervading wafts of gardenia
Stealth in the still of night
Under a hazy moon in a starless sky
The brush of his lips on her eyelids
Disturbs her sleep
In the most delectable way
Nudging her senses
As he slips into her dreams
And invades her world
One breath at a time
Shivering whispers
Barely deciphered
And in the morning
Vanishes not a trace
Lest the faint scent of blue gardenia
AP: 2nd place 2022
Submitted on June 25, 2018 for LATE JUNE 2018 PREMIERE CONTEST sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 10TH
MY DEAD OF NIGHT
I should tell you a lie,
it's a bad dream you're living,
but reality is knowing what you are,
you could ride on the wind,
but it won't take you very far.
I would show you the light,
it's a black candle burning,
and the hottest part is knowing what you are,
you could run from the dark,
but you will never get too far.
I could sing you to sleep,
through your lifetime of dying,
but reality is knowing what you are,
you could cry through the night,
but it won't get you very far.
You're the page I turn.
The love I need.
As candles burn,
you're the life I read.
You're my dead of night,
my candle bright,
my only love,
my dead of night.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
In the dead of night
the quiet overwhelms
a candle works its magic
her zig-zag flame enigmatic
In the still of the night
a rustle of leaves
scares night-owls 'most to death
uneven, their breath
In the midnight hours
senses hone their powers
feasting on infinitesimal change
defying limits of mankind's range
In the wee hours of the morn
hopes yearn for dawn
only to be dashed against
guardrails of nighttime's marathon
It was the dead of night the cold moon gave a faint light.
It's melancholy glance covered the trees they were bare and barren of leaves.
A scream of terror pierced the night my blood ran cold with fright.
Suddenly I awake from this dream knowing what I have seen.
For you were taken from my side so I hang my head and cry.
I pray to God in peace you will be and I pray the same for me.
JSergi
In the dead of night
The sun is hiding
Replacing blue skies
Black silhouette
Blank canvas
Starry night
Tiny white sparkles
Twinkling brightly
Surrounded by space
Flicker on and off
The time is now dawn
Sun rises
Glorious yellow
A round ball
Shimmering heat felt
Flowers greet
A world of beauty
We destroy every day
Bit by bit
Why I do not know
Close your eyes
Listen to nature
What is it saying?
The birds sing
Both to us
And each other
A robin red breast
Sits by my window
Singing just for me
January 3, 2016
Electricity crackling,
dancing in the sky above
And some dead thing moves
imperceptibly,
down inside the castle below
A mad scientist cackling,
howls at the midnight moon with glee
Devilish delight ...
Abominable works being done
in the dead of night
Obscure in the background working busily,
the sidekick, lab assistant
Igor simply ignores
the ranting of his royal employ
Baron Victor Von Frankenstein ...
Doctor Doom
of the 18th century timeline
He with the God complex,
is driven to unlock the secret of immortality
Killing death
would be his crowning achievement,
his stamp of nobility
He peers down at the dead body
awakening
Slight tremors of the hand
Lips slowly moving, wanting to scream
In the dead of night, absent of light,
come witness abominable creating
Man wanting to become God,
giving life to dead things that possess no soul
Such scientific evil ...
running amok, out of control
As the undead monstrosity rises
from the cold, metal slab
He flails at the doctor like a child,
accidentally destroys the lab partially
In the dead of night
some new horror was brought into this world
The living are now doubly filled with fright,
seeing visions of an apocalyptic hell
As the mad doctor
feverishly works on creating a female
once again, a lonely trail
dust settles thick on this lost tale
no stars guide, no moon light
no haven sought in the dead of night
desert days of sun and heat
evening comes without relief
nothing wet will quench your thirst
loneliness remains a curse
bedding down on mountain terrain
a sudden burst of monsoon rain
unrelenting, a driving force
even this will not stop you
redemption, something needed quick
praying to saints, intensity thick
but backs are turned no answer comes
rising from knees left scratched and numb
starting over and over again
not letting anything fence you in
freedom comes, the cost is high
happiness always in short supply
rounding the bend, it's looking up
divinity finally fills your cup
but it has a crack and grace runs free
heaven is never a guarantee
By the light of day,
Near the edge of night.
I heard whispered tales,
Of an ethereal sight.
With my muddled vision,
By now spirited head.
Bound for the graveyard,
To walk among the dead.
The air had been cooled,
By an early winter frost.
So I mustered my courage,
Then the threshold I crossed.
The silence was deafening,
As I trod between mounds.
Clouds of smoke neared,
That trembled the ground.
My heart began pounding,
At a steady rapid pace.
An icy blast of wind,
Had frozen my face.
My feet grew too heavy,
As the clock slowed down.
Then a woman appeared,
In a harlequin gown.
With dark sunken eyes,
Looking sad and gloomy.
Then reached for my hand,
Sending chills right through me.
She then cast a vision,
As I blankly stared.
Of her untimely death,
By the many who shared.
Was battered and beaten,
By the ravaging horde.
Her limbs were dismembered,
With sharp axe and sword.
Buried neath the ground,
In an unmarked grave.
With no chance to escape,
Just an eternal slave.
Now destined to walk,
This cold path alone.
With rustling of gown,
And crackling of bone.
Her whispers grew louder,
Which sobered my binge.
And asked for my help,
To plot her revenge.
Crippled by my fear,
Humbled by my shame,
I choked out a question;
And plead for her name.
Her face then softened,
And became quite clear.
This past maiden beauty,
Released a single tear.
She nodded her head,
Loudly crying...Mary Drew!
Then turned her back,
And away she flew.
By stating her name,
As she smiled at me.
Was no longer unknown,
Thus her spirit was free.
Now lost in the pitch,
I stumbled to my car.
Slammed it into gear,
And sped for the bar.
The tale of Mary Drew,
Still haunts my dreams.
Each time it recurs,
I'm awakened with screams.
Dead of Night…
I am talking to myself in the dead of night
Waiting for responses from my shadow
Distant echoes ringing through my brain
Bring me to rise and gaze outside my window
I look for answers, resume the endless search
But I lurch ahead as slow as can be
Unable to grasp and understand the feelings
That only I must be able to see or to feel
I feign loneliness just to get away
To reach a point that seems solid and seems real
So I can understand in my heart and in my head deeply
That you can possibly feel all of the things I feel
Call me a sensitive little monster
Sweet talk me back into your charm
But I am not half the monster that being a man has made me
I can keep us safe from harm…
But I am talking to myself in the dead of night
Crying out to shadow reflected in soft light
Black to gray to white is the general progression
What else to live for, why else to fight!!
In the Dead of Night…
there is beauty in many colors but true beauty comes from the heart
5/30/2018
She is woken by the noise
Of raised voices downstairs
She recognises her husband’s voice
The other she is unaware
She stands and listens
Trying to decipher what’s being said
Though the voices are too mumbled
Yet the anger she hears fills her with dread
As she steps towards the bedroom door
There are no more mumbled words
Just yelling and loud scrambled noises
Then deadly silence is all that can be heard!
With its silvery veil the moon's pallid sheen
Spectrally cloaks and invests all the homes
Transformed into midnight mausoleums
While those who sleep within can never be seen
As cold as the tomb
As miserable as a morgue
As silent as the grave
As the sheathing of a sword.
The dark shades of night unfold
Where they lie deep shrouded in their beds
Dreams dance lively in their heads
While they look like bodies cold.
Closed to all are the eyes of their resting places
Blinded to outside view
Wrapped in night's dark blue
But within their still frames R.E.M races
Outside in the gloom wreathed like hearses
Stand their silent polished cars in rows
In preparation for sadder blows
When funereal will be the verses.
...in a world of over 7 billion inhabitants...sisters and brothers manage to stay away from each other...in matters of the heart, love, and family...thus the darkness, and evil fill in the gaps...
By Dead of Night
By the wind of day and the dead of night
The darkness descends within shadows sight
With hell bound hurts and impetuous ice
Submersible souls with a pandemonius price
Can you see the blind man...starring at his grave
Can you see the shackled man...freed as a slave
The abandoned woman...crying in her cave
The neglected children...that no one wants to save
Sempiternal storms with rambunctious rage
Capturing sacrificial souls in a cadaveric cage
Life eternal hanging on by a sepulchral string
Hibernating humanity with a crucifix cling
Shelter the coldest ones...for they knock at your door
Feed the hungered ones...for they always ask for more
Quench the thirsted ones...bring their lips to the shore
Love the unloved...and see their hearts begin to soar.
...let's make a change
July.08.2017
Far Away - Contest
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
In the dead of night
Dreams already dare
Eery silence fills
The dark casm
Soon to be unbare
In the dead of night
Little girls start to fight
Against dark claws
Bars holding them tight
Suffocating what must be
In the dead of night
Trouble starts to stir
With hasty heart
And nervous hand
Little girls start to plan
In the dead of night
No sound no sight
A small figure
Sneaks inside
Moving swift and fast
Begging not to be held back
In the dead of night
Cold chills reach
What little girls dream
Vibrant brightness
Fades into dull dead desolation
In the dead of night
A passion grows
As little girls
Again enclosed
Starts to think of what could...
What should be
In the dead of night
With courage scratched up
Little girls find
What is not theirs to be found
A sick addiction
To freedom of action
The choice be chosen
Run into the open
In the dead of night
Second ticking by
Cold blue eyes stare
At what they shouldnt bare
Regret
Hopeless worth
Only to find
Little girls that hide inside
Dying to run
Dying to see
Darkness bares freedom
Soon to be
In the dead of night
It will all come together
The freedom little girls seek
Will be found
On a cold dark wet street
With only instinct to guide
Where little girls want to hide
With the total cover of black
Consequences ready to bear
Little girls
Run and dissapear
In the dead of night, when mists blind the gaze and shadows play their secret role,
Don't give up, think of the stars drowned in tears of forgotten amber,
Enveloping all the lost nights, when love itself has written its farewell,
Whispering to you that every tear is a hidden diamond of happiness.
Don't give up when you slide into the abyss of regrets, when mistakes scream in silence,
For from ruins grow the most vigorous forests; from ashes, the pure Phoenix is reborn,
In the darkest moments, when your scattered pieces seem never to be found,
Do not surrender; from the shattered fragments, take courage to create a new, clear window.
Even if nothingness encircles every dream, when you are nothing in an ocean of everything,
Don't stop, listen deep within yourself, where winds sing intoxicating destinies,
For to be, merely to be for yourself, is the key to discovering all lost hearts,
Mirroring in the lakes of hopes, you will see your soul multiplied through the dreams of others.
Happiness is not a neighbor to your pains, it does not live in the shadow of past days,
It has stealthily crept into timid smiles and gentle songs at night,
Seek it in the rustle of your inner forests, in the whisper of melancholic leaves,
Do not stop, for in the womb of the universe, happiness breathes the echo of your life.
When heavy clouds hinder you, when roads seem endless and pointless,
Remember the magic of being a living soul, just as the moon writes its history on the faint sky,
Don't give up, for from silences and carved dreams, you will forge temples of light,
In dark abysses, find the divine spark that will always guide you toward fulfillment.