Best Gothic Poems
I find you alone
in your favorite room of sorrow and suspense,
the woman I cherish more than victory or divine sense,
long untouched, you stare into a sonnet of romantic sadness,
supple shadows dress you in stubborn, gothic passion, a quiet finesse,
they know that I am the speed of your tears and the lover in your trance,
as I see what your heart has wept for, tender acceptance
I understand why my soul seeks your emotional opulence,
with my powerful hands I hug those lonely, sexy shoulders of tired independence,
knowing by the ease of your neck's pining tilt, by the searching gap of your starving lips
no longer are you startled by our love, no more will you deny the lust righteous,
gliding the backs of my fingers up under your smooth chin skin, beauty so generous,
I find you passion thrown,
I undo your bodice and your soft feminine flesh opens onto me
radiating craving that glorifies yearning,
I entreat you to grab my hard affection, to feel the firm rush replete
to place the head of my love within you like a heavy heartbeat,
you obey with unquestioning need, eyes alight, thighs wide
I lunge in deeply, completely, pushing through you a pleasure tide
as you breathe in the handsome shock of your fulfillment
I kiss the soft space inbetween your sumptuous breasts and taste wild wonderment -
J.A.B.
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
The Prophet
I read the words of a poet
From the days of tomorrow
His verse flowed backwards in time
And rhyme
I, a fair maiden, doomed to a fate
Of obligations unseen
If only the book on my lap
Was not ahead of my youthful station on this earth
Verses seeping with promise
I long for the voice of this master of the pen
I day dream, and lose my place in this world of pain
To hear his softness in the blowing wind
Alas it must be the times he lives
No man can carry such passion
Inside a book within a book of dreams
Yet, here I am, to ponder
The romance of a tomorrow I shall never see
I am doomed to village laws and customs
A stoning that is so unjust
For I unveiled my eyes to the world before me
Staring into the depths of mans possessive hatred
I ran in fear, I ran towards the forest of hope
As they drag me by my feet
The book clutched close to my breast
Bloodied and in the moonlight, I open it
To find out, even in the future of majestic noble poets
There lies evil still
Stealing the breath of innocents and infants
I hope one day
I shall meet the author of these words
I may slap him across face for my silly fantasies
So long I dreamed the world would change as does the seasons
For better days filled with peace and kindness
I hope one day
I shall meet the author of these words
I may plant a sweet kiss upon his soft lips
Singing of songs he has long forgotten
I slowly wrap the rope around my neck
They will not stone me
They shall not claim any victory over me
The poets words, hidden deep between my legs
Shall melt within my soul
For better days filled with love and kindness
I shall kiss him sweetly in my death
Somethings are best
said through blank
scriptures in sheer
silence, but pulling the
violin strings of
a poet strumming
to personify pain,
with tempests of
torment rushing
through thin veins,
would only widen
twisted tunnels for
ink to bleed in
vermilion lines of
broken thunder.
For these lungs have
long thickened
from scraps of
pretend promises,
to dress them
with mountains
of flawed flowers,
oblivious to the colors
that suffocate,
black hearted devils
hovering above
treetops of tainted roots.
And when the
angel of death
descends to steal
the steel within my
mind,
I question the vampire
grey hearts that kneel,
to raven midnights
beating tunes
of truth across
glacial valleys
of mourners.
Why is living a
gruesome terror?
Where artless spirits
sleepwalk along
olive lawns,
as grass snakes
sing deceptive
schemes-
with the reaper
that strolls through
a funeral of fairies,
collecting weathered
wings
and bleached skeletons
buried six feet under the
graphite soils of salvation,
confined within garden
graves of deception,
designed In unearthly
roses dipped in poison.
If only the sun would rise
and see,
how I am no longer
plagued by the vision
of you destroying peace
within your kingdom
of hypocrisy.
I am not your puppet
pirouetting through
hellfires ignited
by the thorny knuckle
of a megalomaniac—
chanting manipulative
mantras of a destiny,
devised from disorientation.
I will always sing my own stars
amidst suppressed scars,
until the moon trembles
and falls
into the heavy depths
of grieving seas
streaming in salty sapphires.
For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Of blood.
Then reanimated as the living undead, in mine own image,
These are my forsaken children of the Night.
Kissed by the angel of death, I'm resurrections insurrection,
Spawned in hell a creature devoid of heart or soul, yet do I
Exist, biting at the exposed throat of humanity, leaving it
Drained completely dry.
Does not the white lily turn ember red, within this the
Valley of damnation.
My throne is a black coffin gilded in golden refinement,
Residing beneath the wooden lid, the beast sleeps,
Waiting to be embraced by the darkness of night.
Slowly, emerging from mine cryptic mausoleum,
I'm famished for the taste of the living essence
Of mankind.
A gentlemen reaper of the fallen, deeply do these
Fangs penetrate into the soft flesh of humanity,
Tis a dark blessing's supernatural gift, have I been
So given, to take life then to restore it.
Raw beasts of instinct, clinging to the ethereal
Moon, that hangs above illuminating this,
Our unholy abyss.
Welcome to a shadow nation of the unseen,
Whose roots extend backwards, to an older country’s
Unconsecrated soil, called Transylvania.
On mine legacies crest, a red dragon with talons
Extended reaches out, grappling for powers control.
For I am Dracula, born of royal blood in life,
But in death I am a king, let these castle walls
Bleed on forever, and the hounds of hell,
Sing outside my rod iron gates.
But beware mortal flesh if you so enter,
For I will enjoy every trespasser,
Whom dares to venture within my
Sacred territory, with a fiendish smile
Upon my hungering face.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
How Do I See You
People often wonder
How they are perceived
Some think they're kind and nice
When really they are filled with greed
Some are selfish and self-righteous fools
A few think their beauty is mascara in blue
Some feel that de meaning others makes them upright
They usually run, when challenged to the fight
So now the question comes down to this
How do I see you Sir or do you wish to stay in bliss
You are not normal, that’s for sure
You may suffer from emotions’ scares
Your pain may be physical and intense as a hot star
So no you’re not normal, you can’t fly away
Too many look up to you
For your noble and kind ways
You give comfort and solace to those in need
Your kindness exceeds even a Rich kings largest decree
You are an engineer and builder of dreams
Reaching out to people with compassion, sometimes unseen
You belong in the kingdom of heaven
I do believe they have an all Irish bar section!
Its there we can share a brew or maybe a few
Laughing at those who live downstairs in hotter pews
Little
is left
little breath
sagging stem
begging eyes
trains come, then depart
rancid smoke over grey fields
I am little
I saw it all
Knotted in the Dance
Our eyes in a silent promise locked,
the way only stranger's can.
Perhaps foretelling of lover's, unfrocked,
langoured and breathless ran.
You, I think, blushed in surprise,
though I really don't remember.
For I, like a thief rushed window pried,
saw only endless splendor.
Your face laying against my chest explored,
and traced the furrow'd line.
Though indifferent to that wound ignored,
the scar I tried to hide.
You, now with arms around my neck entwined,
my hands, the master of your curved hips.
Knew how with charms, bound to defect, divined,
to lands where time stands unperturbed in eclipse.
Few hovered the hall that night as we,
caught in love's magical trance.
Two lover's enthralled in flight shall be,
forever knotted in the dance.
All night I was ensnared by the thought of you,
An unexpected yet enchanting muse,
Lost in the labyrinth of your deep, haunting eyes,
A smoldering ember of desire within me lies.
Your passionate whispers, a seductive symphony,
Unapologetic affection setting us both free.
To trace the trails of your warm, silken skin,
Knocking softly at your door, as you let me in.
Your embrace, a refuge from the chill of the night,
As we entwine beneath the moon’s silver light,
Breathless sighs and fervent moans,
You ascend atop me, you’re my queen and I’m your throne
In this nocturnal realm, you reign supreme,
A midnight monarch in a gothic dream.
Beautiful Disaster
There she is
Silhouette in the night
Lights glimmer, as fame simmers
She is all of my desires
She is all of my fires
Here I am wet
Flooded with pain
There she is dry
As a desert rain
Her beauty rouge bleeding into my soul
I wash my hands
I wash my meaningless life
Of sins and woes
Alcohol in the sails
As I fade to seas far away
She at my feet
Singing her lovers lullaby
Me in the wind
Of sadness’s despair
The air soon to confess a sin
All my life, no lover in the morning bed
No future for a chance to wed
There she is now so devoted
Yet here we both are so bloated
Throats cut and floating
On a rivers dream
A lie, wrapped in deception, in the cloak of silent nights
Deception, soothing as black ink, until dried
The wetness caresses the illusion of pretenses white
When it dries, one is exposed to the evil dark fright
A lie inside a lie inside a lie, inside the Pandora’s box
Unwrap it all you will witness the sly red fox
Run from the forest that consumes the noble heart
Lay your eyes on the Gothic inspired cathedral ceilings
From there, is but heavens start
As the symphony plays the rhapsody of life
Remember always the deceiver for his bringing strife
Raise your hands like a conductor of brave hearts
Speak up and speak out, when you see the silent
Darkness bring you illusions in the night
Beware of the dark lamb, and hold up the noble light
With ethereal dreams, one day you know what is right
Moonlight Shadow
Broken dreams
On purple flamed wings
Celtic rumors
Burning bright
Crosses and crescents
Knights and swords
In the mist of a weary mystical night
I saw her lying there, chest broken and bare
Picking her up, horse galloping away
We escaped the arrows and swords
She my sworn enemy lay half dead and splayed
My duty for not to tribes, but only to save
Slaved to the sword, this moment I escaped
Both bloodshed and grief
Freedom at last
In a hut in the forest
I dressed her wounds
I caressed her heart
Our eyes met over the firelight
I emptied myself into her
She, with lips so sweet
Drained the flood of tears and hate
From my very being
Shocked that love should strike me as an arrow
I held her, my first and only love
For three days and three nights
We whispered to each other foreign words
I touched her face and as she touched mine
In my arms she died
Softly and loved
I buried her
I buried my hate
I buried my sword
I buried my history
Celtic rumors
Burning bright
I, at peace
For the final flight
I held love within my arms
For that celestial moment in time
Now the final embrace
Wrinkled and old
I kiss deaths door
Knowing within
She is there to greet me
Alone
Under stone
The road ends here
Grave of bones
I reached out to caress
The past, and her sweet heart so blessed
Tears water down flowers, that one day shall wilt
For even they, gave up on loves bloom
I have been devoid of heart long ago
Dead to the living
Living for the dead
Love does that, so do not dread
She, who stole the essence of me,
Where ever she shall be buried
My bones may lie over yonder
My heart lies heavy, with the phantom of she
The past burying all, to the one and last
Says I
Alone under grey washed gravestone
At long last
Père Lachaise
Will Thee walk with me tonight ?
Amongst the spirits of Twilight
Gothic verse we wilt recite
I wilt gage not to bite
Wilt thee with me slowly dance ?
As we descend into lover’s trance
With thy charm thee doth enchant
Speak thy wishes
For thee I’ll grant
Both frozen in the midst of time
Our soulless bodies wilt entwine
Flush lips of blood sip scarlet wine
On those lips I yearn to dine
Permit my domination, let reality depart
Allow me to enter thy beauteous blackened heart
I implore thee anon, mine beauty of dusk
Within is a hunger, replete with lust
Cometh let us now abscond
Dip our toes in reaper’s pond
Milk the moon so we may swim
Filling it’s juices to the brim
Bathe with me in lacteous splendour
Mine hands around thy waist so slender
Our bodies melt to form a bond
And as we fuse I doth respond
So bid me now to take thy hand
And lead thee to a world so grand
We will liveth still into this night
Eternally dancing beneath spellbinding moonlight
Mary Godwin -- soon to be Shelley --
Writing with Percy, Byron and Polidori
To create the scariest horror story,
Gave life to a monster of immortal glory.