Best Introspectiondark Poems


Premium Member The Dark Poet

A waking up, do I, Dark Poet, need
to shake my creature core from sheltered sleep.
A seed has taken root as bitter weed
that sprouts from disappointments buried deep
inside me, where a well-hid wild thing
with armored skin lifts groggy head to breathe.
No fire escapes its mouth, for it must cling
to courtesy although its blood should seethe.
If roused, the beast could overstep its bounds
and though I’ve tamed it well, I sometimes hear
in dusky dreams its melancholy sounds.
Before the dawn its murmurs disappear.
On bitter weed subsists my dragon child.
Oh, should I let it rest. . . or wake the wild?


For Irma's Dark Poet contest

Sleep Eludes Me

sleep eludes me
this cold spring night
cats meowling just before light of dawn
I set outside in m dark heavy sweater
the air is cold and damp the dark clings as I walk the yard
restless I think of a proper walk
instead I stand in the yard
listening

Like Dark Sunglasses

.


The suspicious mind, 
like dark sunglasses, 


    even on a sunny day,
    projects its own tint, 

    paints its own distrust 
    on everyone around,

    seeing you and me   
    as mere dark shadows 


of its own dark image 
and shadowy likeness.

.


Drink

it courses through my mind it burns
covers all the thoughts the yearns

brings me numbness, seeks to tank it
covers grief, a warm soft blanket

clears all thoughts and brings relief
brings surcease to all my needs

the mind is shadowed, quiet'd a bit
agony covered, a brief respite

all thoughts of pain all melancholy
are thrown away, however shallowly

raise a cheer, a hearty shout
to the chemistry effect
to mind's temp' rout

when soul wails, begs dark dampers
to this ye turn, the mind's dark hamper

shriek and gnash and clamor for comfort
but turn to this, and find warm summer

I cling to thee and enter thy place
sobbing, begging, to your embrace

The Unconscious

The long, open windings of the dusty road
Seems absurd, like the empty yearnings
Of a parched soul
Which wills to dangle haywire
And be so lackadaisical 
Leading to the unseen infinity
In the timeless steps
The egos marching to and fro
Battling by the storms of life
To subside in the zero
Enveloped in the impenetrable ocean of solitude
Where all seems a singular, dark mass of fathomless despair
No beginning, no end
Just a void standstill of the 'I'
That's submerged in the dark glittering darkness.
© Gargi Saha  Create an image from this poem.

Awake Among Sleepers Who Dream

I don't mind the dark so much.
It's the hour, the time when dark comes around
that haunts me.
It's the eerie silence of unconsciousness,
and the quiet muffled sounds of white noise.
I am awake among sleepers who dream
blissfully and peacefully,
who will wake in the early hours of the morning
rested and ready to face the challenges of a new day.
But not me.
Though my eyes burn with exhaustion,
I cannot close them to sleep.
For when my eyes shut,
it is just me; there are no distractions 
to fill that gaping hole of emptiness 
in the pit of my stomach.
At this time, I feel more alone than ever.


Jack, Johnny, and Me(Repost)

So sad are days in this bitterness
and bitterest cold outside
Gone are friends and leaves 
and grass.
The walls are mocking me, laughing
I can feel me hating me with a passion
This is one of those dark days
I see them at play
The demons who play hell
Casting doubts and leaving
agony in the wake of sunrise
Until this day and I rest again
We will bear it like shackles
dragging loud chains
I will listen to music that worsens it.
I'll drink to the pain, as Im numbing it
Jack Daniels is no friend of mine
  just a confidant in the worst of times
There is no solace in this bottle
Only places to run and hide.
So today I hid from shadows and the sunshine
not letting one loom behind me
        or the other sting my eyes
Contemplating and making sad compilations
mixing and blurring memories
blend them into one absolute emotion
I'll wallow in this today
Looking at a distorted reflection
  it stares back from a whiskey meniscus
Johhny Cash murmured in the background
 smoke wafts through, plumes like lengthy
ghost fingers
  The sun will set on a day like this
It will creep back beyond the waterline
lighting clouds in surrealistic colors
Closure, comfort, and serenity seep in
This was one of those dark days
I grabbed it by the neck 
and conquered it
Jack, Johnny, and Me...

Premium Member Valleys Deep

.....................................................................................................................................


In the mind where high mountains dwell
Wretched with pitfalls of dark wells
Old wounds that cannot be dispelled
Pangs of fear, lion’s lair
Oh, how dark thoughts have cliffs to fall 
Deeper than devil’s snare
 
Conquered hurdles, may find a view
In contrast of the one we knew
Through the shadows, we tunnel through
Dark pits, and valleys deep 
To find fears of imagined hue 
Putting the black to sleep
 
__________________________________________________________________

In honor of Dr. Ram Mehta's Contest: Rime Couee

Premium Member In the Dark of the Night

In the Dark of the Night
It really doesn't matter
How much snow is on the ground
Or how deep the frost has penetrated
Earth's sacred and hallowed ground.

Moonlight plays with shadow
Moonlight listens to the wind
Sunlight hides with daylight
Waiting patiently for the next day to begin.

The temperature dips well below the mark
Of when waters can run clear and flow
The rivers have become a silent force
Beneath their smooth fascia of ice and snow.

Trees loom above the horizon
Their silhouettes like wooden lace
Their patterns created from the heavens above
No branch seems out of place.

In the Dark of the Night
Heartbeats feel strong
You can feel their pulsating rhythms
Breathing and Silence go hand in hand
Proof of an existence and a reason.

(December 28,  2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved, except the right to 
forward and to share with friends - with credit --which is held to be a good idea and 
thus encouraged.

Premium Member Sheer Joy

What sheer joy, it was to me;
to be bounced upon your knee;
to be lifted into the sky;
my arms outstretched as if to fly.

‘Pon shoulders high to view the sea;
within your gaze to climb a tree,                          
to feel my fingers all entwine;
within your grasp, my life line.

To see my world within your eyes;
to know you listened for my sighs.
How can any one man’s love compare;
to the fondness that I found there?

How can any single lover vie?
Or even dare a single try?
to place me firmly on HIS knee;
to lift me high so I can see?

Or perhaps to simply ask?
If this was not to be MY task?
to plumb the dark depth within;
to light my OWN spark and begin.

Will I admit and ever find?
what I’ve sought in another’s mind?
Can I stop looking full of sighs?
for my life in a man’s dark eyes?

What sheer joy, I’m sure it will be;
when I have learned and I can see;
that all I really need to know;
I’ll find within if I just go.

The Dwelling

In this very deep dark place
Where all my secrets dwell
I’ve gathered many memories
Some which I’ll never tell

Memories of love long lost
Memories of hope
Memories of yesterday
And things with which to cope

Always adding something
More and more each day
To this cavernous, deep, dark place
Always locked away
© Jo Bien  Create an image from this poem.

The Dark Alley

It is a dark world they inhabit, dark and filled with a flood of blood.
Many bodies lay entangled, red and dark. Confused with the creator,
The mighty fellow who made them, so small and useless, having a heart
 which bled, a flood of blood. Men came at night, some during the day
Looking for love, in this well of blood, this land of the dead, of unconscious 
self, the engulfing dark, limbs entwined left to decay amid the lying money
The ghost of past women, recapturing mythology, an ambience of dread
This frightening flood of the blood, sucking and leeching away the soul,
The psychic inheritance of the ego, the dark near dead experience.

Silent Stars

silent stars shoot across dark sky
a comet's death, lonely do they die
like hopes that fade
belief that wanes
all in the blink of an eye

I once believed in fairy tales
of a savior prince and the wall he scales
but those rhymes were written long ago
they are not true, this I now know
fantasy in every detail

the moon rises alone in velvet night
the twinkling stars enhance my plight
do I look for happily ever after
braving disaster after disaster
trying to rid this stage fright

silent stars shoot across dark sky
© Jo Bien  Create an image from this poem.

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