Best Fear Poems


Premium Member Am I

AM  I ?

Am I Just Standing Here, or Am I Just Dead?
Am I So Full Of Fear, I Lost Myself Instead?

Am I A Nobody, that you can't defend me?
OR
Am I Just Invisible, and you really don't pretend.

Am I Blind, Or I Just Don't Wish To See?
The Love I Cannot Find Is Right In Front Of Me!

Am I Hearing the Truth,
Or Have I Just Been Deceived?
Who Can I Trust?
Who Can I Believe?

Am I So Mad I Just Can't Understand,
Or Am I So Sad I Need A Shoulder And A friend?

Is It Just Me, 
Or Am I All Alone?

***

I wrote this poem 22 years ago
I was pregnant, scared and alone:-(

Premium Member Teddy Bear-

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
Mommy gave 'YOU' to me
Now I never sleep alone at night
The comfort you gave when God's sunny eyes ran out of light

You are my sweet little teddy bear... 
You kept me company throughout the years
I hugged you when my eyes were full of tears
Loving you, squeezing you
We both express much joyful dance of cheers
Together we sang lullabies, without you singing one single word
We drank from the same teacup, whispered about the pretty birds
Now listen, as I mumble extra words into your ear
My sweet Teddy Bear, you are always here

We snuggled every night staring at the star-frame window
"You held my hand when I was lost in my own imaginary limbo

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
I'm 11 now, and my mother loves me dearly
Sadly, she felt it was time to find me a daddy
Little does she know my daddy visits every night in my dreams

Shhhhhh!!!
Now her boyfriend visits my room and tells me not to scream
Little Teddy bear, I never showed you fear before I fell asleep
Little Teddy bear, tonight I do not want to count sheep
Teddy bear, now I hold you closer and tighter than before
Little Teddy Bear let me cover your ears, from the screeching door
Little Teddy Bear, he said he would hurt Mommy if I tell anyone
Little Teddy Bear, I know you see and hear everything!!!

by; PD
You're A Little Kid Again (contest)
The View of an 11-year-old

Premium Member Threshold of Madness

The cold hand of Winter swiftly approaches
Its breath etches frost on my windowpanes
Nearer my threshold, Death now encroaches  

Blood is slowly chilling inside my frail veins
Reaper's wild winds pelts hail on my roof 
His breath etches frost on my windowpanes

Snowdrifts climb higher on the sills in reproof
Huddled in a corner, my fear is spurred
Reaper's wild winds pelts hail on my roof

This room is the chamber where I'll be interred
On the threshold of madness, I'm losing grip
Huddled in a corner, my fear is spurred

Winter's hand has caused a temperature dip
I flinch at the sound of a knock on my door
On the threshold of madness, I'm losing grip

Terror incites me to curse what I abhor
The cold hand of Winter swiftly approaches
I flinch at the sound of a knock on my door
Nearer my threshold, Death now encroaches


August 17, 2017
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.


The Wounds of War

Dear Mother, should my footsteps never tread
The pathway which would lead to your embrace,
Know this, though many words were left unsaid,
Your love has pierced the darkness of this place.

I cannot lie and least of all to you,
My mind is frail, and body's wracked with pain.
I tremble as destruction sounds anew
And blinding terror strikes this bleak terrain.

Incessant haunting screams assault the mind,
And sights I've witnessed which I'll ne'er forget.
Scarred men lie bleeding, rendered lame and blind
Their troubled souls with thoughts of death beset.

And how my weary spirit yearns to roam
Through country meadows leading me back home.



07/01/19

'War sonnet poetry contest' : Sponsored by: Mark Massey

Premium Member Darkness Where Now Poe and Raven Reside, Part One

Darkness Where Now Poe And Raven Reside,
(Part One)

As the Raven cross into the dark pits
Those in torment went into heaving fits
Its shrieking calls, alarms even down there
Far worse its image to dying souls scare 
With great trepidation some turned to Poe 
Begging, master far away make it go
Poe only smiled, saying, come now my pet 
I have far, far sweeter work for you yet.

As Raven lands on Poe's black-stone table
Spits out two bloody and half eaten hands
Asks, does this remind you of that fable
Promising keys to kingdom's treasured lands
Given to a man willing and able
Freeing princess, her captor's sword withstand
Where death's deeds and bloody might enables
Morbid masterpieces of art so grand.

From all around, their banter brought loud moans
From wretched sinners in that dark hell cast
Raven spoke in wicked, evil tones
I toyed with her, to make my pleasure last
Poe commanded, Raven, please no more of that
We are here to enjoy the pleasant scenes
And in our deep joy, grow lazy and fat
Let us not her poor soul thus so demean.

Raven again spoke, come now we need pain
And louder wailing that soothes a black heart
For what good is torture if has no gain
Or tearful pleadings that come as it starts
Master, order yon' demon band to play
For I shall fly above and watch you dance
Let us enjoy sadder cries on this day
With evil's first bride, a little romance.

Poe then rose to do as his pet wanted
Poe laughed and said, Raven dear, please be nice
Let not our blackened pride thus be flaunted
When bit better decorum would suffice.
With that he motioned demon band to play
Its favorite and first great monstrous hit
As waiting victims begged that they may 
Have some relief from their torturous fits.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-30-2019
Dark Rhymes, ( As Raven And Poe Both Survive Below)
Part One...

Syllables Per Line:
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 
0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 400
Total # Words:306

Premium Member Gravitational Pull

Today I feel the pull
of gravity
on the depth of my depravity
There within that cavity 
resides my anxiety
It seeps out of my porosity 
feeding the insanity

I fear the shadowy part
that craves my heart
In the darkness my eyes dart
convinced I’ll be ultimately 
ripped apart

The thoughts and images
That reside in me
are the splintered bits
of my history 
I can feel my mouth covered
held down in my misery
It’s not the place I wish to be
I’m drowning there unable to see
praying a hand will reach out for me
I don’t want to be lost to eternity 
or this tick tock, tick talk insanity 

Out of body
Out of mind
Separated from me
what will I find
Can I escape 
the bonds and chains that bind
Even when I look ahead
I’m pulled back behind
On my spirit
the demons have dined
My tick talk clock
has begun to unwind
Can there be light
for one who is blind

“Amazing grace how sweet the sound.
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found.
was blind but now I see.”

A voice in the dark 
Summons me 
Offering me protection 
from my inner enemy
Experiencing true love
cleanses me instantly 
I’m not meant to be bound 
by mere gravity 
As I’m filled with a higher Love 
God teaches me
I was born for more
and meant to be free


Premium Member Apocalypse Now

Running through the Black Forest of no tomorrows, my heart beats at warp speed as the hideous howls draw nearer. My thoughts briefly digress to the world I knew before. I had no time for God or religion. My only goals in life were self-centered and ambition oriented. O how I long to return to my yesterdays! I would change my ways and repent. This beast will surely end my life of todays and cast me into an abyss of eternal darkness and oblivion. Instinctively, I get down on my knees and pray, but alas, 'tis too late, too late. My executioner has come upon me. I bow my head and willingly submit to the inevitable. 


Blood red moon tonight
Starry skies have disappeared
Apocalypse now
© Tom Woody  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member He and She

He swings his arms and strides ahead
     She walks three steps behind

The center of the universe
     Cares not what’s on her mind

The bacon? Oh, he brings it home
     Though she works longer hours

He smiles and sees his savings grow
    But what she earns is “ours”

One day he’ll leave; she’s sure of that
     Because he tells her so

She, too, oft’ thinks of leaving home
     But has no cash to go

A prisoner within his world
     The dreams she once had died

The man she loved will never know
     How many times she’s cried




August 26, 2019
For Silent One's "If You Only Knew" Contest

Premium Member The Broken Doll

Walls of silence hold,
 Me prisoner,
The child held within,
 Cries out for release.
Relative solitude comforts, 
Not the tortured soul,
Inward coiling withdrawing,
 Deep inside. 
Shedding its outer skins,
 Protective
Layer thus preserving its,
 Inner being.
Innocents shroud lies in ruins.
Gentle spirit, cast aside wings,
 Damaged appendages.
The fallen angel kneels in,
 Shame,
Shadows before mankind.
Unanswered prays rest upon,
 Deaf ears.
Muted sobs, echo on stilled,
 Winds breath.
Hardening to stone, the
 Chilled heart
 Reflects frozen repose.
Forgotten amongst mine own,
 Kindred,
Childhood symbolizes a betrayed,
 Victim’s refuge.
Small fragile hands reach out,
 Into nothingness,
Hollow space grasping into,
 Oblivion.
Chained shackles twist,
 Imaginations warped view,
Somber tones cloud troubled,
 Thoughts.
Amidst life's trials, I'm aimlessly,
 Adrift,
Without any form of stability.
I, alone remain shambles,
 Wreckage.
Displaced and damaged,
Beyond repair.
A broken doll thrown away,
By those who should have, 
Cared for her the most.

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

Premium Member The House of Spirits

It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents,
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.
Witchery or voodoo’s domain, it is a place of salvation for
Spiritual challenged, listen to the beautiful music they make,
Singing within this their walled cage of brick and mortar, these
Ethereal victims lost.
Here in peace they wait for the light to find them, a waiting chamber,
Of the lords misstep souls, those whom walked off the righteous path,
Yet are not without redemptions wanton of need.
Wanders of limbo’s astral plain, seekers whom roam blindly until 
Finding a doorway threshold, then crossing over, into this the house
Of spirits.
A corridors slender passageway, a way stations layover for those tired
And weary travelers to rest until their final journey’s end comes for them,
Sanctuaries power house of the supernatural.
Behind these red doors dare not the mortal flesh clasp the gilded knockers,
For within are things of the unspoken variety, creature protectors waiting at
Bay for the stray intruder to wander forth upon this sacred ground.
Angels kindred brethren whom seek out evil, destroyers patrolling the
Darker shadows for night stalkers whom wish to feast upon the forsaken.
But light’s white power is a mightier force to be reckoned with, and vanquished
Will the devils spawn into the depths from which they came, into the bowels
Of hell shall these demons be thrown into the blackened pit from which they came?
In the twilight’s ethereal hour, a mid-ways breaking point between light and dark,
A shimmering glow strikes this standing watch tower of abandonment’s forgotten,
And heaven’s flood gates are opened unto them, calling these the lost upwards
Towards nirvana and at last know true peace.
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents.
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.

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

Premium Member Wellness and Worry

Wellness and worry are by no means friends.
To be well, your mind of worry you must cleanse.
Living with worry, there’s a price to pay
worry will kill you if you let it stay.

If you want to enjoy physical health,
beware of worry it creeps up by stealth
then causes your nervous system to stress,
and in time, you’ll be a physical mess.

Worry also affects your mental health.
Its effects can creep up on you by stealth.
Worrying can lead to anxiety
which makes you withdraw from society.

Worry can steal your emotional health
Like a cat it moves in silence and stealth.
It gnaws on your joy, making you feel sad.
Before you know it, everything seems bad.

Worry can ruin spiritual health.
The crafty old lion stalks you in stealth.
He tempts you to doubt and distrust your God.
Before you know it, your life he has clawed.

Worry is a thief; he is after your health.
Give him a chance and he’ll steal your wealth.
When worry shows up, don't open the door.
Trust God instead, and feel your spirit soar.

Another Day Safe From the Harvester's Jaws

Out of the burrows and hedges and dreys
Heads began bobbing and eyes were agaze.
Rumours were twittered and grunted and squealed:
‘The combine is coming to harvest the field!’
The moles and the voles and the rabbits and hares
All hurried and scurried and scattered in pairs.
The hedgehogs and ladybirds, pheasants and shrews
Did all that they could to distribute the news.
Then all made a dash for old wise badger’s sett;
The only safe refuge in face of the threat.
There, in the deep hollow they felt the vibration
They shivered and shuddered in great trepidation.
The thrumming and thundering monster machine
Soon passed overhead... and then all was serene.
And out of the hollow came heads, tails and paws
Another day safe from the harvester’s jaws!


 Most recently entered into 'Your Best Rhyme Poem That Is Trophy Worthy Contest 3 Poetry Contest' sponsored by Tania Kitchin - 05.10.19

I chose this poem because not only is it one of my personal favourites, but to this day, I've no idea where all these little creatures came from! Written early on in my poetic endeavours, it made me appreciate fully the amazing powers of the imagination!


'A rattling rhyme contest' sponsored by Nina Parmenter
12/08/18

04/12/18
'I cannot believe I wrote that Poetry contest' : sponsored by Nina Parmenter

Your Choice,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest : sponsored by Brian Strand

Premium Member Mirror Mirror

Your reflection is a liar
It makes no confessions 
The image reaches within
Cold fingers claw at your mind
A mirrored smile
Taunts you
Haunts you
No words spoken
Yet you hear screaming in your head
You reach out your hands
Palms joined on glass
No warmth transfers as you touch
You stare at the illusionary you
Looking back from his backward land
A place without air
Yet it is you who cannot breath
Together you bang on the glass
Cracks appear
You cut your right hand 
Blood trickles down his left wrist
As he licks it off you taste it on your lips
There it is again
That smile
Perhaps it's a smirk
What does he know
Fear rises from within
You turn to walk away
Hair rises on your neck
The sound of shattered glass
As the pieces of you fall
You were never here
All these people you used to be
Shards of glass upon the floor

Nathan's Mirror Contest

Kind of freaky it matches one of your pictures, I wrote this a while ago.

Premium Member The Sun That Parts the Clouds

Through frayed seams a rosy dream bleeds 
needled and re-stitched 
with threads of time and love and hope..

and still — a rosy dream bleeds 
the miscarriage of a promised rose garden 
leaving me bereft but for entwined bands of gold – 
contemplative thorns tempt my angst 
moony moody barbs bristle twigs of tenderness 

sigh— it’s not a laurel wreath worn atop my brow
as I sit alone with a squeamish friend 
my  blue-sky-to-storm-cloud  introspection —
as your distant eyes deserted mine long ago  

Winter's beast laid bare a cerebral graveyard 
lost you wander amongst laid-to-rest neurons 
worn headstones of thoughts and laughter and memories…
you wonder why they hide  — why they died

the crackle of cognitive circuitry quiets 
branched-lightning fades from unwitting clouds
and aged roots of reality perish 

our red rose finished   fallen to pieces 
you-and-me-petals a messy heap like old potpourri —
yet in dark’s hush    love’s scent lingers on our dream pillow 

Oh nostalgic sepals embrace me! 
my heart yearns to return to the bud  
to the fullness of our June bloom — 

instead, I bury desires beneath life’s litterfall; 
amid pollenless stamens and leaves of one-sided reveries
and cage  my fear  my despair  behind purple thistle facing the light

as I free a smile for you, my love — 

you    my sun that still parts the rain-bearing nimbus

Premium Member Walking On Water

I step out of the boat
Wishing to walk on water
Beckoned by the Faithful Son
Whom You sent me Father

But my gaze turns to the ocean 
As dark storm clouds they appear
I sink down into the deep
Even though, Jesus is near

The waves overwhelm me
For my faith is faint
A man with many problems
More a sinner than a saint

Still Jesus doesn’t forsake me
He reaches down from above
If I grasp firmly to His hand
I can be saved by His Love

Yet there is a strange comfort
As my lungs they fill with water
It’s the Devil who seduces me
Please Lord I beg you, save me Father!

Within me Jesus’s power
I can feel my body rise
Yes the waters become calm
As I gaze into my Saviour’s eyes

So now I can walk on water
With my Saviour hand in hand
I can make it to the shore
and step on Sacred land

Fear no longer rules me
Each breath is mine to breathe
No storm will overwhelm me
as long as I believe.

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