Best Gloom Poems
In vertigo of night, in their riddled trance
Boldness of petals melt on washed-out shades,
As faces etch a quiet gloom in varied hues
Capturing splashed oil, neutral and bright
While I gaze longingly at a portrait…
Man and wife , as if holding a child almost
Unseen …hidden through a float of blue-white.
Through dimming pain, a view lights up for a time
Where orange of moonlight quietly slips
Amid this rosette outburst and aching gray,
With blossoms strewn along pale candlelight…
How languid colors begin to mold my thoughts
Drowning in a pang of loneliness… I ask
In silence..are the couple ,the babe dying?...dead?
And the fusion of tender, lonely motif allows me
To weep inside, captive in a gasping moan... the kind
Which shapes a tone between life and elegy.
---------
Frank Herrera's Contest: YOUR PERSONAL BEST of 2016
Written 5/09/2016 Re-submitted 10/18/2016
POTD Awardee
------------------
Inspiration from the painting, Les Amoureux en Gris
Artist: Expressionist, Marc Chagall ( illustration included)
Yellow petals shroud the glens in buttery bloom,
concealing from the sun a shadowed gloom;
hapless furs,
get the curse;
beneath the bush feasts the fanged coil of doom!
As I assemble and ponder my life,
My childhood and family strife,
The hurt and separation from my future ex-wife.
The sadness and pain without my child,
Continuous battle to gain access not mild.
Difficulties of my own family surfaces,
The loss of loved ones seems merciless,
Friends impending fateful illnesses.
Daily work stresses and disappointment,
Unnecessary human intrusions, not enjoyment.
Rushing around to make other's pleased,
Forgetting myself, my own life needs had ceased.
My beautiful friends and loves left behind,
Incredible creation around us, have I become blind.
As negativity of the mind clears and concludes,
Optimism of all living existence, and actuality,
Depression and sadness disappears to face reality.
My life has changed, and a new life begins,
My contentment overcomes me, new wings,
Bygone has left me, merely thoughts of a learnt past,
Not all bad but worthy too, this will make last.
Special moments, and new love, a novel to make,
My loved ones, daughter, family and friends
Forgive for my gloom, it was a mistake.
Priests of Doom and Gloom:
Fear, the seat of their feigned
power. We, meaning them, know
best: follow us and be saved
or risk eternal pain and suffering~
being forever graved! Yet some, as
I, choose the worship of one word,
Love! Avoiding Dogmatic Mercenaries,
Faux stand-ins, for the one, true,
God, all merciful, unlike the Above.
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 despisement
Swarms choking the insides with a blanket
They whisper in your ear "I love you"
They grant you no delegable antidote
Pig-wrapped in a wasteful pursuit of carnal futility
Living out the rest of days hollow
Old and carolled she slips on the filth of plastic suit
No, she won't live that long
(Originally Written 3/20/2019)
Shores of doom
Needn’t engulf the space in your mind
Where without your will gloom
Can’t inhabit until faithless fleas and spiritual sleaze find
Room and space to waylay and slay without delay
The faith you profess to possess
In a spray without a ray stray
Strung and hung when you dispossess
Your faith of the strength and depth
Which faith has sunk into its roots
In each significant step and faith breath
You smuggle and gaggle in the boots
You wear with pride as you deride the loss
You claim not to suffer in the dwarf
You call disbelief and the abandon toss
Spotted in the wharf
Where faith ought to find succor
By virtue of the pride of place
You claim to allocate to the anchor
Faith can’t in your mind squeeze from a disbelief trace in a lace
Shores of doom and gloom striving to mount
On your faith a determined assault
Within a number of sorties you dismount
As conscience pangs claim it’s no longer our fault.
A jasmine shrub, shivering on a December night in gloom
of white petals with watery pearls, nervously awaits the bumblebee.
'Hush' it whispers breathing till last drop, the fragrant bloom
then leaves for the moon, the wilting shrub wonders 'why not me'...
July 27, 2020
Four Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
~Winner: 2nd Place
In the depths of shadowed realms they dwell,
Two minds ensnared by illusion’s spell.
Both tread the same path, their goal in sight,
Wounded yet resolute, they journey through the night.
In despair, they find solace in each other’s embrace,
But will life grant them grace, or leave them to chase?
Together they stride, seeking truth’s light,
Guiding each other through the endless night.
Amidst the gloom, a flicker of hope ignites,
Can the extraordinary become routine in their sights?
Will they find what they seek, or be led astray,
In life’s capricious game of give and sway?
Love emerges from shadows, a crimson rose in bloom,
Its tendrils entwining their hearts, dispelling gloom.
Will they gamble on this fragile bloom’s chance,
Or watch it wither in life’s relentless dance?
Only the heavens know the answer to this tale,
As they wander, hearts entwined, love’s light frail.
But in love’s garden, fate undefined,
A rose still blooms, defying the tide.
Set to weave on an age-old loom
Living within an empty room
Through night and day in same costume
Like a Shallot Lady in gloom.
She looks into a mirror left
As shadows come, and shadows flight
Run her shuttle as they alight
Leaving the loom, creeping in fright
Reveals the entire slender weft.
+++
September 10, 2014
Form: Rhyme AAAAbCCCB
Sixth Place Win
Contest: The Lady of Shallot by Isaiah
Just to provoke a little smile
The sun went into hiding
In the last month of spring
Had given much of its sun rays
Through the month of May.
Had heard so much complaint
And wondered why go through so much pain?
“Can't they see how pretty the flowers bloom
Just because I can shine through?
Can’t they hear the birds sing out loud
Because I beat the cold to a smoke out?
Can’t anyone smell the fragrance of blooming trees?
There’s so much good I give, can’t they see?”
The sun felt depressed and sad
It didn’t like feeling so bad
“One day, I am begged to come out
And when I do, I am wanted out.”
So the sun went into hiding
And none of its rays could be seen.
The clouds moved in silently
Spread throughout the sky evenly
Turning its days to fearsome gloom
It was the Month of June.
As if to make a point, the clouds went to war
Rain fell, lightning stuck, thunder roared.
After many days of clashing wails
The people bowed and prayed
Wondered why they had so complained
And pledged to never do it again.
And the sun was moved to come out
Smiling, it extended its power throughout.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 06.30.10.
For Timothy Lee
A plea for your sweet mercy I now speak.
You surely see my consorts are shadows,
Grown longer still as my sadness fades bleak.
All my streamed love gifts altered as fallow.
I will not share my gloom and misery.
If together my gray would fade your skies
and seize your heart made dreamy fantasy.
I would not want destruction in your eyes.
I have no shelter from my painful storm
Though sorely I seek such as I do long
To rest my entirety inside a norm
Since sorrow battered my hope once held strong.
Constant aches hold me, I nurse hurt and bleed,
So how as coupled could love dreams succeed?
Tell me, now tell me
How the craggy mountains I'll ascend
Weren't you the vitality that made me be?
But 'am now lonely in dingy ditch, can't transcend
Gloom gain my fine world of love
When up the sky t'used to stand bright stars
But where in this darkness the bright star above?
Ain't 'parting' the worst sore of all scars?
Oceans are as silent as sleep
Moon as dim as the land of shadows
Nothing worthy: all my pursuits's part's sweep
I bite my solitude within these closed windows
The morning rays no longer sweet snug
And the pleasant breeze! Which warmth t'shall cool?
Birds melodies these days din in my lug
No food; what else if not for sweet kiss to drool?
This is the desolate life the split left
Weary with the itch for heart's rest
Why can't lovers be, instead of this cleft?
I ask why break when it spawns us opprest?
This is like a red moon.
This is like a total eclipse.
The sun becomes black.
SIX MONTHS OF DARKNESS
The gloom occurred during noon unexpectedly.
The media states the world is in Armageddon.
This has been formed from the unknown God.
The world becomes tense.
A universe is in darkness.
It does not affect utilities until the darkness coagulates.
Mania displays on faces.
Children sit quietly.
Crime is on the streets.
The police sirens are heard from a distance.
Looting for no reason because the natural disaster is darkness.
No homes are lost.
No souls are at stake.
The cities and towns are not evacuated.
However, weather is onset.
The stars shine.
The moon they surround.
Time is of the utmost importance.
Foremost, is the day is not in appearance.
The weather person does not know what to tell.
The media is the forerunner of what has occurred everywhere.
Life moves on.
________________|
Penned April 21, 2014
For Dr. Ram Mehta Contest Darkness At Noon
- Echo in Gloom-
Lost in the dark bordello of doom
Only a plop echoed in gloom
Cathedral of crystal
A cave become tomb
The bats and the owls
Hold the keys to these rooms
As saline tears keep falling drop for drop
Silently forming crystal chandeliers
A quarter of an inch
Over millions of years
Spikes and thorns or bishops and pawns
Decadently clothed defiantly posed
Dare to expose challenging those
Pillars of salt crusty old stalactites
Formed by a river of tears
Ladies of the night
Silently drop - quietly stop
Ploppity plop - ploppity plop
The witch awaits her chance to ride her broom
On Hallow’s Eve she does so love to zoom
Dressed in her black cape and stunning costume
Her cat on the back they fly o’er the moon.
Witch prepares her brew for folk to consume
Made from dead rats, bats and bones from a tomb
She adds mouse droppings from around the room
And mixes in chopped up death cap mushroom.
She bottles cat pee called ‘Bridal Perfume’
Some labelled ‘Aftershave fit for a Groom’
Loved by brides and grooms for their honeymoon
Till the honeymoon ends and hope is strewn.
So off she goes on the fright night of doom
Joining with ghosts, ghouls and goblins of gloom
People come sniffing out the cauldrons fume
But trot off soon to the nearest washroom.
Midnight approaches and witch strides her broom
Speedily flying raising sonic boom
Disturbing the birds who wrongly assume
It’s morning and they start to shake their plume.
The man in the moon cannot stand the vroom
He hides his face and earth turns dark illume
Then witch makes her descent through the volume
Therefore normality should resume soon.
Halloween 2021