Best Gloomiest Poems


As I Plot Just One More Day

I am immeasurably honoured to have been invited to collaborate with as fine a poet as Robert Lindley. Our first collaborative process has been very quick, very instinctive and very natural. Thank you, Robert, for a very rewarding joint venture.

As I Plot Just One More Day
A collaboration with Robert Lindley
11th October 2018

Desperate as the waking at blackest dawn
I seek only moments within eternity,
for the day upon me is long
and I do not ponder its end.

Forever the blackened door beckoned
in tones of promising delights
who can know what lies in its beyond
perhaps a cure for the world's pains
I walk halls leading to its hurts
echoes that resounded as if playing
with no malice, future screams at my hesitation
as I plot just one more day
as I hide my lusts just one more day.

Decadent as the lust of gloomiest noon
I am immersed in the consummation
and overpowered in the contest, yet hopeful 
that still I may embrace eternity's devious charm.

Never ending cycles eat into a wanton soul
they are all too familiar
and their boredom becomes a chain
a rasp in my dying breath
I hear its rhythm and each echo speaks
O' that parade of desires hides deep within
as the dark expands its borders
as I plot just one more day
as I hide my lusts just one more day.

Dire as the languishing at darkening dusk
I seek an eternity of moments
to sate my lust and to quell my rage,
to forgive and to be forgiven.

Premium Member As I Plot Just One More Day

As I Plot Just One More Day

Desperate as the waking at blackest dawn
I seek only moments within eternity,
for the day upon me is long 
and I do not ponder its end

Forever that blackened door beckoned
in tones of promising delights
who can know what lies in its beyond
perhaps a cure for the world's pains
I walk halls leading to its hurts
echoes that resounded as if playing
with no malice, future screams at my hesitation
as I plot just one more day
as I hide my lusts just one more day

Decadent as the lust of gloomiest noon
I am immersed in the consummation
and overpowered in the contest, yet hopeful
that still I may embrace eternity's devious charm

Never ending cycles eat into a wanton soul
they are all too familiar
and their boredom becomes a chain
a rasp in my dying breath
I hear its rhythm and each echo speaks
O' that parade of desires hides deep within
as the dark expands its borders
as I plot just one more day
as I hide my lusts just one more day

Dire as the languishing at darkening dusk
I seek an eternity of moments
to sate my lust and quell my rage,
to forgive and to be forgiven

A Robert Lindley and Lawrence Sharp collaboration
10-11-2018

Poetry Note- 
I am very pleased to have found a new and fantastic writing partner 
that presents fantastic free verse poetry in its top form. This our first collaboration was a true pleasure and great joy to create. We both found ourselves in tune, as we worked to present this dark free verse poetry, that depicts the darker side of this world, past wayward youthful experiences and a look at what even today our youth face in this unforgiving and to oft deceptive, corrupt and tempting world that rewards darkness, and giving in to wanton desires. 
The magnificent verses my writing partner contributed to the creation of this piece sincerely awe me-  as I am learning of the depths, beauty, great and high artistic value in creating and reading free verse poetry, Both my thanks and my appreciation come from a sincere and very appreciative heart.

Premium Member Clouds Are the Personality of the Sky

Image: Cloud Fantasy, by Susan Lawrence

On spring's green carpet I repose, revitalizing the soul
passing slow minutes pondering the sky

The lake whispers a morning meditation
as memories abound of cloud fantasies
a thousand ships of condensation dreams

Assorted sizes, shifting shapes
capriciously changing contours and colors
white, dun, pewter gray, dusky purple
magically mirroring my many moods

Fleecy, flitting, tiny, quiet, wispy cirrus all alone
like first day of school in a new town

Thunderheads colliding with cold fronts
hurling lightning in angry retribution
resolute battleships storming towards war

Stratus clouds, flat and unruffled
soothing, like grandma holding a cookie sheet
embracing landscapes like a comforting blanket
hugging hilltops in a friendly fog

Misting up at a feel good story
spilling tears on the gloomiest of days

A nimbostratus orchestra performing
a symphony of snow for mountain dwellers
a reverie of rain for desert denizens

Bouffant hairdo like a 60's prom queen
strutting across the sky adjusting her tiara
cotton ball cumulus, billowy like a verbose uncle
enhancing sunsets with colorful stories

.....

The soul of the sky is Sol-
our daylight and warmth, essence and marrow

The stars are sky's artists painting our stories-
archers, dippers, swans, seven sisters,
scorpions, lions, hunters, heroes

The heart of the sky is Luna-
a nightlight for sleepy children
a lamppost where lovers meet
a lantern for the darkest of trails

but clouds are the personality of the sky


written 24 May, 2022

//Inspired by the wonderful art of PS member Susan Lawrence, after viewing her landscape paintings at susanlawrence.net. Each landscape is framed by a different personality of cloud; I encourage all to pay a visit to her website to enjoy her portraits and abstracts as well as landscapes ~ John//
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member ::A Psalm To Yahweh::

.


               on my hands and knees
                           Father
                     i came to you
               in the gloomiest of rain
                           yesss
              when mine taught found
                          turmoil 

                            And
            
                        of course
         on those days which i did feel
                    a hundred fold
                         Blessed 
   
                            now 
                          Father
                     i find shelter
                      in knowing
                            You

Premium Member White Beauties of My Garden

"Flowers, the emblems of beauty and fragrance proudly assert that loveliness can catch every eye and brighten even the gloomiest heart"    ~ By Poet

look at these white blossoms,
attired in snow white velvety frocks,
unassuming and elegant
under the canopy of the starlit sky. 
though tiny in size, 
en masse they exude a hypnotic charm. 

birthed in the stillness of night,
they proclaim their presence,
in dazzling white.
decked by dewy beads,
they dance freely unnoticed.
some perfume the air 
with exotic scent,
permeating the nightly breeze. 

during day, they wait to be garlanded, 
by the amber beams of the sun,
longing to be hugged and kissed 
by the amorous butterflies.

these simple beauties are the silent partakers,
of life’s most beautiful romance!

Premium Member Journey of Connection

In the gloomiest of nights
We navigate the unknown.
Bound by a shared purpose
Our hearts have grown.
 
Without talking, we survive.
I grunt and squeak.
She hints at an adventure.
Her odds of making it home are bleak.

Her words are a balm.
Healing wounds unseen
With every step we bestow
We're building a bond, so serene

I am resolved to assist her.
While she is supporting me.
We chat as we stroll along.
In a world, where liberation is glee.

We share our hopes and dreams.
And the secrets of our souls
No fear or judgment
As our connection unfolds

Odd, yet I'm keen on that fact.
She always aims high.
I can hear a heartbeat.
Again, my heart still sighs.
 
Through valleys and mountains
We forge our path.
Hand in hand, edge by side
Defying fate wrath

We laugh and we cry
In this journey, so profound
Discovering parts of ourselves
That was once lost and bound

With every obstacle we face
We find strength in each other.
Together, we conquer.
Every fear and cover

Our spirits soar, unchained.
As we venture on this route
The world around us fades.
As our hearts commute.

No longer just companions
But we're not afraid.
But a love that's divine
The destination may be unknown.

We have found solace.
In the bonds we have made
So let us continue.
On this path, we have chosen
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Verity and Vanity

Written: September 15, 2023
______________________________________________________________

In a cosmic world where marvels dwell,
There lies a well where truth does swell.
Under the surface of the cultural tide,
Dissemination of erudition, hence and wide.

Yet, amidst the waves, dishonesty lingers.
Distorting the successful and the weaker
Be empowered to deceive and ensconce.
An idealistic facade where virtue is sparse.

But in the depths of this deceitful sea,
An epiphany awaits, for all to foresee.
A childhood memory of chastity and bliss
That truth was pure, and deceit was dismissed.

A poisonous world may shroud the mind.
But the wonders of verity forever shall bind.
Akin to pollinating bees on a kinetic canvas,
Seeking nectar from flowers is so vast thus. 

In this meadow of erudition, we yearn to descry,
The ageless wisdom is unflawed and comply.
In the well of truth, we perceive the light,
Ushering us through the gloomiest night.

Oh, how avarice can pinch and sting.
But verity embrace is an everlasting thing.
It displays the world with hues bright,
Cleansing the soul and bringing forth delight.

In this enormous depth of a world so sumptuous
Let verity be the criterion, the steady unctuous.
In its embrace, we descry our demesne way,
Navigating through every ephemeral day
 
In the depths of the well, we espy our worth,
A vestige of our genuine niche on earth.
To quest for knowledge, to master, and to grow
To endorse the elision and veracity within us flow.

And it is on this jaunt that we shall arrive.
A candid and guileless mind is graceful to thrive.
Let us, then, face the mysteries that await us.
And acquiesce in the core of verity to emerge, thus.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Black Cat

I've never ever in my life liked any cats,
I preferred to live, rather, amidst grain-field-rats;
And black cats, all the more, have remained omens, bad,
To see one, is enough to turn the day so sad...!

My sweetheart, though knowing me well, did not know why,
Brought one; blackest of all; like the gloomiest sky;
Fed him with purest milk which I so seldom got,
And nurtured, as though a child, worth winning jack-pot...!

Our common bed turned, his comfortable cradle,
Best of food was fed to him through silver ladle; 
My resentments went, as though, music in deaf ears,
Tricks of trades, I tried, in all possible spheres...! 

We drifted away, from hearts and souls, lived aloof,
The black cat toured around our whole house and the roof;
Something like smell of rats, he seemed to feel some day,
Chased them; my sweetheart couldn't follow far away...!

Silently, when the cat was out at night, she said:
Didn't I do something wrong, in sharing our bed?
Whoever might be, though it seemed, to be my pet,
My mind, today, does not seem to be at rest set...!

Hence, we together, arrived at a conclusion,
To get rid of, forever, every illusion; 
We'll build a cattery and we'll give him a queen,
Milk, indeed, we'll provide; and, meats, as we eat, clean...!

Thus, everything went well; we lived in happiness,
Our momentary bitterness turned great sweetness;
Placing people and beasts and plants and trees well-tuned,
Sure, will make cosmos, rhythm robustly resumed...!

Many blacks, they did not turn bad omens, later,
We kissed them; saw that in all ways, we did cater;
The way we look at people and beings matter,
With absolute optimism, blind-faiths do shatter...!




22 March 2022 
Black Cat Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori

Premium Member Grandchildren

A granddaughter is a joy
a real genuine treasure,
to make the heart sing
with unequaled pleasure.

Her smile can brighten
the gloomiest afternoon.
In her sweet presence
my heart becomes immune

to trouble or sorrow,
defeat or decline.
In her, so clearly,
we see God's design.    

A grandson fills the gap
and completes God's plan.
In his face, I catch 
a  glimpse of the man.

His smile brings sunshine,
love defines his embrace.
My load becomes lighter,
worry's gone without a trace.

He will always hold
a large chunk of my heart.
No force can alter our
bond, it's off the chart.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.

Seriem - Succession

The land is bare;
hard rock and exposed outcrops 
lay open, like the pages of
an unread book for the story
of time is beheld by every
grain contained within.
Time passes slowly and the
land remains the same but
seeds of invaders are slowly
being transported into this
barren land.
The seeds embed themselves
into this dark and sombre
rock that was created when
the Earth was young. 
Rain falls onto the dry and
lonesome rock causing the 
seeds to transform into
sprouts that begin to widen
the tiniest of cracks as their
roots extend.
Every spring the sprouts become
plants that flower, catching
the essence of irony; even the
gloomiest places can capture
beauty.
Slowly the land becomes
invaded by many others but
still remain the smallest of
creations for the earth itself
is not to everyone’s taste.
As the plants grow and die the
ragged earth becomes blackened
with the very chemistry of life.
Gradually the plants become
bigger overshadowing the primary
invaders but still they rule the
very earth for without them the 
soil of the earth would only
provide for little time.
As height increases so does the
need for food and light for the
building blocks of simple sugars
are created by the elements of
the cosmos.
As time passes the soil becomes
thickened by past life and thus
trees take root, extending their
worm-like systems deep into the
earth in search of water and
earthly gases to feed their
inner workings.
This is the process of succession
rarely seen for it is overlooked 
by many; a whole new world lies
beyond our line of sight,
releasing the very essence of
life itself.

Along the Water In Marseille

A charming town, with bobbing boats
And restaurants or small cafes,
Finds us all bundled in our coats 
On this, the gloomiest of days.

The rain, though, takes a little break;
The Ferris wheel goes 'round and 'round.
At booths with crafts that people make
We see what items can be found.

A market filled with fish for sale 
Attracts us with its fresh array
Of creatures stretched from teeth to tail,
A strange and glistening display.

The locals mingle, doing chores,
With tourists taking in the scene 
As traffic flows and all the stores
Compete as customers convene.

I'd hoped for sun, but I'll admit 
That clouds and raindrops couldn't dent
The dazzle of Marseille, for it
Has charm you couldn't circumvent.

Premium Member Ode To a Black Butterfly

                    oh, black butterfly...

       you're the epitome of grace in air.
             poetry in constant motion;
             how gracefully captivating!
   floating about a peaceful spring meadow
          you couldn't be more carefree.

                    oh, black butterfly...

    you brighten up the gloomiest of days!
           no matter where you show up,
              all are glad that you came.
           you're quite a sight to behold!
            you bring time to a standstill.

                   oh, black butterfly...

         how delightfully erratic you flutter
               from one flower to the next;
      hovering above them before alighting.
       you're as beautiful as you are fragile.
        please, do pay a visit to my garden!


Date written: 03/07/2023

Premium Member For a Gentle Soul

I listen to the silence of the twinkling stars, 
as they slowly fade in the early morning light.
Past misty mushroom crinoline clouds
Dawn winks through breathy eyelashes 
blowing each tiny candle flame out.
Like dreamy silhouettes cast long against
the darkening ominous shadows,
to face another day seems but wasted human sorrow.

Then, through the gloom, sweet, like viscous dripping honey,
your words so tenderly sooth my anxious mind.
Your wit so quick, so wise, so funny,
brightens the dark of the gloomiest night.
With your gentle caress I feel new found warmth 
and look upon the awakened face of a brightened sunrise
once again seeing the promise of my heart’s desire
as your warm shaft of healing light starts to mend my broken heart.



09/01/2017

Aye

I’d deem today as 
my gloomiest day ever
I feel doomed but nay
ill-fated but otherwise
aye, having a bad hair day!


04/13/16

Shortcomings

So I looked at my friends, listed a mile long
And to no one can I sing my sad somber song
You’re the only one that cares about what I say
But who am I to complain, or to feel this way
In the gloomiest night, upon that dark sky
I wished my problems would leave me and fly
Fly, far away, and never to be seen
I yearn and I hunger, but I am vain and green
I care about nothing, only for myself
Placing all of my feats onto that little shelf
In my room, looking at all I have done
Sad that it can fit together, lined up one by one
Feats forced upon by authority, not by will
Sure I loved how it felt, but I hungered still
Where do i belong, when will I accept my age
I’m too old to ignore, too young for this stage
Soon this shall pass, soon all will be right
And that’ll be the feat to bring about my night
© Avery Won  Create an image from this poem.

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