Best Dreadful Poems
As spring showers soaked through to my soft skin,
In hapless home in youthful age akin,
Through stabbing sorrow's sleeplessness I knew,
I grappled grief as fantom fears came true.
He was gone, greener pastures caused his leave.
My haunted heart was left bereft to grieve.
For seven yearning years his loss for me
Caused suffering in mindful misery.
Those years that passed helped heal my hurting heart.
He returned, contritely claimed a new start.
My longing love fraught fitfully with cares....
God had answered this mourning mother's prayers.
3-19-22
*Note: when my son was 14 and a half his biological father stole him, taking him 2,300 miles away with promises of greener pastures. It was the worst regret of his young life. After seven years at the age of 21 he returned home. We remained very close until his recent death at 44.
~First Place~
My Lost and Found Love Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
covid-19 deaths,
unemployment on the rise...
so is homelessness.
the pain very real
our ship of state is living...
a complete nightmare.
no relief in sight
not quite a happy new year...
lifeline held hostage.
Date written: 12/27/2020
Graves of many, dreadful dark and spooky.
Spiders hung and swayed a little kooky.
Pumpkins fierce howling red glow.
Walking-dead knock blow-by-blow.
Black wild cat moved its tail slightly fluky.
Dracula went out dressed as cranky Grinch.
Drank few too many got into tight pinch.
By foot dangled the mayor,
Threw him over conveyor.
Towns people came around with rope to lynch.
Lightning and thunder did clash
In ventricles within my heart
Vying whether to lash
At every part
That feels emotions
In hearts of dames
Whose love motions and portions
Laid claims
To the indifference my heart felt
When Hazel Fidelia ended our engagement
In July nineteen seventy seven to melt
The betrothal arrangement
I thought made in Heaven
Until my polychrome
World came undone
In a moment of total madness and sadness whose home
I ransacked painting all women black
Cos their kind acted irrationally in spirit
As Fidelia in a rubbish pack
Dumped the love writ
We’d so carefully crafted over several years spanning back to college
Days where I first spied the svelte gazelle
I desired in marriage
But of course a spell
Cast by an invisible hand
Made sure I ate humble pie
Of the most humiliating brand
Giving my heart no space to sigh as though I was condemned alive to die
Humiliated
Empty handed
Denunciated
Loveless landed
Fearing for the heart torn into
Whose emotional system though frail
Determined to go on without breaking into two
Or going off the love rail
Or separating body from mind
In a scenario thrown into disarray
Wondering if as legend has it love truly blind couldn’t find
Room in my aching heart to shine a beam of limpid light without further delay.
An old man tries to find his wings.
Once he flew up near his puppet strings. A calm loving stare between his wondering eyes. Remembering that day as he search the sky. A stinging passion near the bees. A sad spirit man who lost his mate oversees. Ninety years old and still time counting. His heart full lifeboat because he’s drowning. He once was a pilot, a army man in disguise. Hawk eyes sounds in his spirit which cries and cries. He stands to his feet one last time. He builds up some new wings and begins to climb. Stretching his long dusty old legs up the latter. His wings connected to his shoulders as he reaches up higher. He looks down towards the empty black hole scared. He shifts his eyes up looking pass the stars with a heart beat dared. He starts to take a deep long breath. He thinks if he does this what will his family have left. The dreadful dragonfly leaves out his spirit. Before he can jump he’s made it faster to heaven, a world record speed, more faster then when he was a pilot. A tombstone’s remembrance was not suicidal. His departure was accurate and was not a dismissal. A determined soul now has his new wings, forever and ever reigning with the King.
Pure girl, the fallen angel does possess
Envelops her, unwanted legacy
No way out, fighting fate is her life's test
Night’s blackest suitors are her destiny
Youth’s betrayed friend, to rescue she risks all
Dark paranormal quest, what will they find?
Redemption or damnation may befall
Endgangered soul is tortured by her mind
A lone bud may emerge in deadly bloom
Down, can she be saved by her fate’s true love?
Foul evil’s power may the world entomb
Unclean beings roil beneath, God soars above
Lost world winds to its dark and baleful end
--Last fateful choice in strong arms of a friend
7/10/16
© Thomas W. Quigley
The dreadful phone call came, “we have bad news”.
Somehow I already knew, but the words screamed in my mind.
“You have cancer”, and an aggressive kind.
For the first time, I yelled at God, threw things across a porch.
I had been through too much trauma as it was, from earlier years.
They had just removed a tumor, now wanted to remove more.
I hadn’t even recovered and they were in a rush to save my life.
It is a long story, as I battled with doctors with life spinning.
I was calling everyone I knew, to thank them, as I could.
I believed the doctors that I didn’t have much chance to live.
All other worries in life dissipated in a heartbeat, none of that mattered.
I ran to the health food store in desperation to buy Mangosteen juice.
They pushed the major surgery as I took months to decide.
They thought I was crazy, gambling with my life in such a way.
I kept drinking that juice, seeking 2nd opinions, being yelled at by doctors.
They insisted after surgery would be chemotherapy which I denied.
They refused to do this second surgery only for investigative purpose.
When I finally had that second surgery, it was me who turned out to be right.
The rest of the biopsies were clear as I had overcome doctors and science!
Faith returned as I realized God had brought me a miracle fully unexplainable.
They still wanted to do chemotherapy, so I raced to transfer out of state.
Where they agreed with me not to, almost 10 years later, here I am alive.
Heidi Sands
It's been awhile...
>/center>It seems we're held captive in these dreadful years
So much loss... precious lives: loved ones and friends
Stolen without mercy; yet grief and fears we bare
For I know, like all enemies, this too has an end
By His gift of mercy, our Lord Jesus will send
~.~
@12/24/'21
Audrey Haick a.k.a. Annalise
Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a happy ne year filed with blessings and God's grace.
I'm a Piketown son who left his mum
To sail the eastern shores
Spent a year in Gloucester
'mong the barkeeps and the whores
Then a man came 'round to Gloucester town
Said boys I need a few
Strapping lads such as yourselves
To join me whalin' crew
The pay is mighty lowly and
The work'll break yer backs
But if ye crave adventure, men
You'll ne'er get a better chance
Those who'd go out wi' me, lads
Prepare ta leave at dawn
There's a whaler at the dockside
She's called the Dreadful Mourn
Ho! Called I to Captain Frye
My services you've bought
I've traveled here from Piketown
To earn a tale heart'ly wrought
Aye, me lad then ye shall have
A yarn ta spin yer sons
So join me on the Dreadful Mourn
'Ere long's the risin' sun
I nodded Aye to Captain Frye
Then turned to swig my ale
When a man appeared beside me
And pulled up to the rail
He shook his head and then he said
His offer you should spurn
There was another Frye set out
Yet ne'er did he return
This other Frye for he was kin
Of the Captain now about
That fortune on their family frowns
Of that there is no doubt
I turned to the stranger, smiled
Said thank you for the warn
Then headed down the gangway
Out to the Dreadful Mourn
For weeks on end I coiled the ropes
Boiled the oil and pulled the line
Though it was grueling labor
I was feelin' pretty fine
But the winds they soon blew colder
And the ship began to slow
The Captain said don't worry men,
This is how the whales go
One day the ice so thickened that
The ship came to a stop
The Captain cried a wild whoop
Boys I think I've found the spot!
For 'twas about this latitude
Where me brother's ship was lost
And now I've come ta bring him home
No matter what the cost!
Sorry I lied ta ye lads
I blame ye not for yer ire
Now calm ye selves, we've work ta do
Afore we can retire
Of course you know we would not go
Along with his plan
The crew decided mutiny
Right down to the last man
For Captain Frye's madness
We must pay an awful price
But he would join his brother
As a ghost beneath the ice
The ship was stuck, the stores near out
'Twas nothing left to do
'Cept sing a sailin' shanty
And toast the Dreadful crew
So I took a final dram of rum,
Cursed the day that I was born
And lay down to my icy fate
Aboard the Dreadful Mourn
June 24, 2017
i cant write poetry mumble some nonsense
i cant write poetry random words seem to fit
i cant write poetry writers block blocks writing
i cant write poetry i actually cant
Dreams can be
Good to heaven
Bad to hell
I had a dream
Very very dreadful
It started houseful
With cries rule
I had lost my mother
I was steady still
People console me
Around but no result
Instead of people around
I was left all alone
The imagination without her
Had shot circuited me
Who will come to cheer me?
Who will love priceless to me?
Who will fight for me?
I was in real also
Kept crying in night
Waked up! The moment
I realized it was dream
I was left smiling
Happy to see her
That day changed
My attitude towards her
I am more respectful, polite
And happy ti have her.
by:-
Vrushani Thaker
Dreadful Fairytale
Stay away from the paint.
You’ll kill yourself on the swing.
The green VW cannot contain all of you.
Change into something more modest.
Sequined slippers sparkle gauche.
It is the pink and kerneled
lures me under the tent of
impossibility. I do not fathom
aviaries of peakcocked humans
reaching for a canvassed sky.
Danger lurks behind the
masks of frantic made up clowns.
Large red lips and big flat feet
horrify me amidst others
sidesplitting crazu glee.
I am with the hawkers’
cotton candy, cracker jacks
until the ring is darkened
and I leave this pit of panic.
All to pay is a stomachache
much too very real.
Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
May 12, 2012
For David Williams Circus contest.
The sweetness short lingered and enjoyed
The dreadful aftermath -
Long suffered and happiness forfeit
The ultimate - undertaker ordained
Such inexpressible sufferings
Staring at the life buzzing before their eyes
So unsympathetic of theirs
When they are fading so steadily out of this life
Unregulated sweetness and enjoyment
Uncontrolled poverty and languish
The accurate recipe
For absolute and definite doom
Days painfully mature into weeks
Onto the bones the flesh hastily shrinks
Unto them the painful reality dawns
Their health and life so much at loss
Five minutes of pleasure
Is what they traded their indefinite mortality for
Now still so young
Yet a coffin they are ready own
Power over death we have not
Yet how immense our power to summon it is
Since of the shortcuts to it you are already informed
You are at liberty from that road to desist or not
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~
NB: The poem is talking about AIDS
Her clothes soaks in a sea of sweat,
her skin wet, brown and muddy,
as though floating in a Lake with debris.
Notorious in her screams
and dangerous in her gaze
Making her the worst villain of the neighborhood
been greatly antagonistic to Manhood
as agony and frustration befell her,
comparative to experiencing a difficult means of Livelihood.
Medication may be an immediate remedy
but will not stop her hatred towards the brotherhood.
In difficulty, she curses and swears,
her sexuality, been the target and victim.
Increase severity of her present situation,
makes her casualty to moral decadence
and deterring her ability to be sane.
Her thinking faculty, substituted with rage,
and naughty questions flooding her mind
like the spring as she wondered
why Humanity is propagated through such pain
The Balloon of Life gone so flaccid,
her pains, like the infiltrating effect of an Acid.
Just one last push to proceed,
knowing fully well, she will succeed
and finally, the glorious result of a seed.
She has been in a Barren Land so dry,
the feeling of darkness, she is ready to fry
the transition to light, she gives a try
which becomes accomplished with a Newborn's cry.
Old Bones
Sad Groans
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This poem is a footle