Best Hyde Poems
Ella Hyde
1857- 1898
That cad with the freckle on his forehead,
That rascal man beast,
Handsome as a Greek
But devastatingly insecure,
And so deliciously young!
He was the one who stole my pride,
There, behind the Hadley tombstone in the moonlight,
And who,
Breathlessly and with trembling hands,
Unlatched the ruby red necklace
From around my naked neck that night.
It was he.
That cad who swooped down upon my innocence,
Like a maniacal Zeus
In one of his crazy costumes of concupiscence,
And carried me off to nights of brazen episodes,
Splendid spectacles in light and magic,
Of him and me embracing wildly, madly,
In dreamy dances with caresses and kisses.
Only the truly passionate
Could understand these mad scenes in the dark!
I met RS on many a night
In the long concealing shadows of Central Park.
He was my man, but he didn’t know it.
I lived my life here in this dusty town the best I could.
I believe I left my mark in some small but universal way.
At least I knew when to say no to Roscoe Settle.
Now I’d like to go back to my grave and sleep.
I am tired of this rant about The Man Beast.
At 41 I entered here after my bout with diphtheria.
The trees here are my shadowy friends now.
But I sometimes secretly wish I could meet RS.
Just as it was in 1897,
He and I kissing in the garden Gazebo at Central Park,
His hand on the small of my back.
Me trembling with monstrous want,
My ultimate Prince.
Who lied to me like a rat!
My tears are streaming
His eyes were beaming
My thoughts turn to past acts
His thoughts expose the cracks
My never-ending mental torture
His tools are put in order
My race is coming to an end
His race is at the first bend
My end is nigh
His begins on a high
My time here has ended
His time is open ended
Betwixt two sides
protection from the devil
a blend of calm and chaos
separate the twins
and the iron doors appear
a prison of one’s making
Do you think we’re better off, if we let the devil roam free? The killer, once restrained, now is on the loose. Do you think the conscience of the good, gets off scott free? Do you mingle with your base side? Do you hide behind your good, but still entertain the fireball in your hands? Do you knock on doors with evil in your heart, but just enough of a mask to get by? I say let the Lord in; let his cross knock down your iron will, willingly; let Christ set you free! The fire you feel is purifying; the Spirit inside, comforting. The breath that fills your lungs, reborn; your heart in lovely form - its chambers freely flow with peace and love.
1/23/2023
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride
to juicy jukebox jabbering
in jackal jackboots
from nearby jungle
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating
jambalaya to justify a
juggled juxtapositional
jurisdiction jamming
as jugular vein jingled jewels
joyfully jauntily jaywalking
to a jay named Jim Jolly !
Onward he jumped to a
Jungian junction
Jupiter jocund watching his
journeying joints
journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit
or jeweller jiggled this job
So he jerked his jess
like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the
next jangle of jasmine
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin
though sometimes Mr Hyde
with jeroboam swirling alongside !
DR. JAKAL AND MR. HYDE
Science verses madness, welcome Dr. Jackal meet Mr. Hyde,
Within all mankind a darker side exists, it is the beast,
Teetering on the brink of being released at any time.
Hatred’s malcontent, our inner basic instinct prowling, in
Our darkest part of the soul of humanity.
A madman’s obsession to gain control of his darker side,
Experiments in places where thou’est should not dare go,
Making judgments only left unto a higher powers call.
In a hidden laboratory, beneath the darkened streets of London,
A scientist crosses a fine thin line between the conscious. And
Unconscious mind, splitting his spiritual soul in two, releasing the
Beast from within himself, behold Mr. Hyde, heckling, screaming,
Into the darkness of the night, I’m free at last.
In shadows hollows he lurks, waiting to prey on the innocent,
Unaware of his malevolent presence, a black bag tucked under
This creature of the inhumane picks his victim with sheer disdain.
Luring them with silver flashing coins of promise, he kills without
Hesitations malice, relishing in their screams of tortures monumental
Torment.
But the manufactured poison, wears thin, and the Dr. Jackal, personality,
Chimes in again, and realizes what his alter ego has done, but it is too late,
To save the innocent from death’s final demise, so he flees the scene,
Escaping into the night’s shroud.
Never again Dr. Jackal vows, will I release this inner demon, yet
Hyde will not be denied, I will take power again.
Dark and light battle within one beings soul, until the eclipse of one nights full
Moon descends, and Dr. Jackal faces Mr. Hyde at last, ending his own life!
But in hell’s final crescendo, whom truly has lost the battle for existence,
The Man or monster.
Heaven only knows the truth on such matters; I’m just a lone mourner,
At a madman’s funeral, and shall I place two roses upon his grave, one
Of ebony black Mr. Hyde, and one white for my dear friend Dr. Jackal.
Farewell my friends, may you both find some kind of peace on the other
Side, he left a note with these budding gifts, and it was so signed
Sincerely the man dressed in black.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
With the death of my parents something changed inside,
Its a secret very deep that I’ve tried so hard to hide,
I keep busy working but admit I often have denied,
There’s not a day go by that I don’t think of suicide.
Then I look at my children and become filled with pride,
To see my son graduate, my daughter become a bride,
Would be part of life so important, it could not be denied.
And spending these milestones without me to preside,
Would make my family feel like a big part of them died.
So I keep the sleeping pills hidden and the act untried,
Averting the sad thoughts, putting a smile on the outside.
Breathe easy, this secret is not a true story, that’s the upside.
Written by Lee Ramage
August 30, 2011
For Shani Fassbender’s Contest
“Tell Me a Secret”
Placement: First place
** According to the World Health Organization someone around the globe commits suicide every 40 seconds. Suicide is the 3rd leading cause of death in 15-24 year olds. WHO website 2009
Dr. Jekyll
Diabolical, villainous
Experimenting, killing, hating
Murder, schizophrenia, man, husband
Loving, caring, rationalizing
Gentle, friendly
Mr. Hyde
bright eyes gleaming with mischief
gentle compassionate views
determinedly ambitious
me sober and free
glazed eyes full of hate and fear
anger mixed with self pity
high drama - no coping skills
alcoholic me
Written 12/6/2015
Dodoitsu Doppelganger Contest by Alfred Vassallo
4th Place
I saw her sitting by herself in the periphery;
She missed someone I knew was better than me.
Two halves don’t make a whole,
But two is company,
And I’m fair with trigonometry.
I don’t care about your boyfriend in Germany.
I don’t care about all the baggage you brought over from Florida,
Your daddy issues,
Your paradoxical self-defeated self-importance,
How you’re yesterday’s big news.
Please, take off your coat, have a drink,
Slip into my ruse.
If we’re not so lucky,
I’ll introduce you to the person I keep
Battered down inside
Of me.
The side
That hides
Beneath the wide-
Eyed mind
Of helplessly
Restless nights.
I had years of therapists telling me to dig into that
God damned clamoring tantrum of self.
Of course, the only time I asked for help,
I got tenfold pitches for prescriptions;
I got a hospital bed.
And a broken-record of out-of-time doctors
That said it was all in my head.
And I wished I was dead.
When I was four years old,
My mother took me with her when she did men for drugs.
Or left me in her apartment, screaming;
She said, "Nothing ever shuts up."
The magazine says
I should consider a new medication,
And busy work and meditation.
Sweet girl, you probably don’t care for hell;
So call to tell him that everything’s swell.
In the morning I promise not to dwell.
Note to self:
If you’re reading this,
Please treat yourself well.
And quit chasing nightmares
That teach you about yourself.
In forgetting
I am Just az Hyde:
The who by day
By night
Does not coincide
I am the Nicest but also Meanest person who will ever come your way.
Now all of you go "F" OFF!!..and Have Yourselves The Greatest Day.
Most people who meet her, consider her charming
But she has ghoulish traits, they’d find quite alarming
With her gleaming blonde tresses and sparkling blue eyes
Her cherubic features are just a disguise
For although she emits a celestial aura,
Angelic pastimes, quite simply, abhor her
Where other girls play with their ‘Barbie’ dolls
She has mystic wars with her hideous Trolls
Her peers, read Enid Blyton in Bed
She takes Stephen King, with his tales of the dead
And, when it comes to the movies she’s seen
A Nightmare on Elm Street, Hallow’een,
Poltergiest, Psycho, The Thing, The Blob too
These are just to name but a few
There’s nothing she likes more than a good ‘chiller’
With ghosts, ghouls and monsters, or psychotic killers
She watches the Grand Prix, to watch the cars crash
She loves to see the players fouled at a soccer match,
Ice skaters, she wills to fall flat on their faces
And athletes, when running, to trip on their laces
Yet, despite her having such a sick and perverse mind
She’s loving and caring, gentle, sensitive, kind
Unselfish and thoughtful, advanced for her ten years
Who on watching Disney films, has been known to shed a tear
Although she won’t admit to it, it’s only herself, she fools
And I wouldn’t change one inch of her, my ‘angelic’ little ghoul.
© Janette Fisher – April 1995
This poem was written 15 years ago when my youngest was 10 - she hasn't changed a bit!!!!
His infant's recurring childhood dreams...
Nightmares while running through the streets
Pitch black her sky; these fields their scenes ?
Half a century passed still turning pages to his haunting's
Truth foreboding it's images ? Silhouetted, of silent screams
Standing at life's window, Prophetic, and a baby's tears crying..
In retro these revelations but no one could hear ? Gazing into this glass.
Why do you complain, haven`t you heard
The sound of thunder, and the song of birds?
The tree was struck by lightning and caught on fire
The bird was shot and is no more a flyer
Why do you moan, haven`t you seen
The sun setting over the quiet sea?
The sea went mad and raged in the dark
Sinking ships, passengers were eaten by a shark
Why do you cry, haven`t you been told
The Lord walked among us sinful souls?
He died on a cross, with thieves by his side
But enough of this Dr. Jekyll, said Mr. Hyde
Ah, let come this stiffling breeze now to ye all!
Such sweet sap envelops my every pore,
Shall I await for the ever fresh rainfall?
For I fear the amber of daylight no more.
Dormant they recline on fields of white cotton,
while Hermes pulls his cart from the House of York,
and though worries of the day are forgotten,
they tackle me with ever increasing torque.
Dear Lord! The sun, as the Gods, knows no mercy,
it strikes common men on green parks all the same,
the same as the priests from Westminster Abbey,
wildly wields and waves it's scorching blade of Flames.
Ah, let come a fresh breeze to the grass of Hyde,
and may it blow through the city, far and wide.