Best Snuffing Poems


Premium Member Fortunes of My Tears

I see the future
in the constellation of my crystal tears
as you siphon the sparkle off what’s left of my joy.

Heavy is my heart where you spread your composting ego 
sacrificing my fire.

Your unwillingness
to ascend from darkness 
on wings of breath and light
is not lost on me..

as you strut your fan of peacock plumes
snuffing out any hope 
for my flickery flame.


Susan Ashley
July 19, 2018


~ Third Place ~
Contest: Any July 2018 Poem
Sponsor: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings


~ POTD ~
July 21, 2018

Premium Member A Royal Birth

the Sun in the west
smoldering with fire inside
afraid to explode, 
jumped into the waters below.

over this impetuous act 
the Day, in deep regret
snuffing all her grace,
flickered out.

under the cover of darkness
the aquamarine sky witnessed,
the birth of a crescent Moon, 
with angelic glow.

cradled high in the vast expanse,
with sailing seraphs for company
the little princess born, 
would soon be queen of the night sky!

to celebrate the royal birth,
innumerable lights were lit
in the firmament
like burning chandeliers.

the Earth was seen lying dazed,
by this astral illumination
wondering what drama
would yet unfold.

April.11. 2023


~ Placed Eighth~
Brian Strand Contest.No 1212

~ Placed First~

Simply Poetry 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- John Lawless

Premium Member An Ebony Night

Feeling smug about its certainty,
Night anticipates the Day's demise.
And as scattered shades of gray gather;
blue finds sanctuary in your eyes.

As twilight creates a stained-glass sky,
a scarlet sun reluctantly sinks.
And night dilutes the essence of light,
scribbling silhouettes in blackened inks.

Vermilion colors the horizon
as flashing fireflies light up the night.
And dusk creates magical moments;
choreographing their dance with light.

Darkness descends like a shroud of smoke,
snuffing out the last lingering light.
And in the fabric of time and space;
stars confetti an ebony night.

A golden moon pools in the heavens;
gilding ripples in a wishing well.
And silence mutes the beat of two hearts
held captive in love's hypnotic spell.


Josie's Last Call

You frolic with playful abandon
Oblivious to obligation
Such wobbly legs prove hard to stand on
Chameleon charmed by temptation

I don't know why your halo's all bent
Your soul's complaint argues so brassy
Can't pay rent when your money gets spent
Once vibrant jewels bloodshot and glassy

Butterfly flapping with tart contempt
Degenerate goals rot away hope
Your daughter grieves with each failed attempt
She cries each time you roll down that slope

Cheap glutton for wanton attention
That hot spotlight withers your pert face
The clock chimes with mortal dissension
Until there's nothing left to erase

Snuffing your fire while quenching your thirst
You disconnect from honest matters
The mirror displays why you've been cursed
Indolence shreds your core to tatters
© John Weber  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Golden Shackles

We played 
Scrabble until the word Bali came up-
and you were gone.

That night
your pillow
smelled of ocean breezes, coconut and
heliconia.
When you came back-
I want to be free.

I built a body balloon
around you
and filled it with helium.
I let out the tether 
and you went up and up
and up
to the jet stream.
I released the tether.

A man in a 747, 
business class,
saw you float by.
I want her-
he wrote in his day planner.

Soon, you fell and fell
towards the African forest
and into a tree.
A leopard started to climb
up to you
but you dropped onto the back
of an elephant
who carried you 
into a brightly lit 
camp
with a table, tablecloth, candles, wine
and gold silverware-
Ah, there you are, my dear.

You ate and drank
and awoke
covered with golden shackles.
The leopard slept beneath you
snuffing as though in a dream.

Above you
a taunting helicline made of gold keys
lead back
to
our little room
under the eaves,
and the rain
and days filled
with nothing.

Fair Game

So many times you’ve shuffled the deck,
I don’t know which card will turn up next
So many times you’ve poisoned the well,
I don’t what lies you’re going to tell

It’s not fair --
Your keepin’ us all in the dark
It’s not fair --
The snuffing out of every spark

So many times you’ve dumped your oil --
A truly dead sea and no arable soil
So many times you’ve tilted the table,
With a heart of steel you made our lives unstable

It’s not fair --
You promise renewal and repair
They’re not there, 
But to you everything is fair 
Fair game
 
Against your false visions
And lying divinations,
Let us raise up our hands
As a unified nation

So many times you questioned our minds
As though it were us and not you who is blind
So many times you’ve tilted the table,
Your heart of steel made the machine unstable

It’s not fair --
The way you shattered our promise
It’s not fair
‘Cause it’s too easy to be dishonest


Premium Member Democracy Was Born

Once long ago, when Kings and dragons ruled the Earth,
there came to be that a golden Fairy Queen
was pregnant and about to give birth to a radical child.
All the King's court knew this child would be gifted,
destined to do great things, for a prophecy spoke of its coming.
When the nobles heard of this pending birth,
they promptly reported it to the ing.
In those days, ignorance had a grip on the land
and change was strictly forbidden.
All thinkers and learned folks were feared and despised.
The King was evil and ordered his knights to find and
kill the Queen and her golden child.
The Moon turned blood red with horror, snuffing out Her nocturnal light
so the people were cloaked in darkness at night,
and once the Moon stopped shining, the tides no longer came.
The scared villagers panicked and begged the King to call back his knights
and spare the Fairy Queen.
But the King was driven mad with anger
and vowed he'd slay the Queen and her golden child;
nothing they said could dissuade him from accomplishing this.
The people turned to the dragons and tried to persuade them with flattery
to stop the King, or no one would gaze at their serpentine beauty again.
But the King got wind of their ploy and banished all dragons from his land.
And still, to this day, every dragon has stayed away. 
But the knights stumbling in the dark could not find the Fairy Queen,
so her child was born amidst their chaos, and She named it Democracy.
The Moon was so relieved; She beamed with joy,
and Her light shone again upon the land.
The people denounced the King when Democracy was born,
and as prophesied, a brand-new era came into being;
one where dragons and kings would eventually fade into memory.

We Are the Light of the World

Darkness isn't born,
It is created by snuffing out the light,
Sorrow does not exist,
Except in the absence of happiness.

Dark people with dark intentions,
Appearing as a sheep but with the heart of a wolf,
Evil things lurking in the shadows,
Lying in wait to devour the sons of GOD.

But just as the light illuminates and vanishes a shadow,
so also when we gather every knee shall bow,
For love, Hope and Faith is our symbol of strength,
No weapon fashioned against us shall prosper.
BECAUSE,

WE ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

04/10/2018

Descent Into Shadows

What if I told you that I was weak
Eyes bleak;couldn't reach even the companion I seek
What if I told you I was insane
Riding in the pain; Bonnie and Clyde stunt till no part of me remain
What if i said that I was falling
Darkness calling; funeral dirges echoing from the night until the morning.
Space and time couldn't bring it down
Til you shot through the defence ;holding it by the throat snuffing the life it had.
The arrow I sent to the skies wishing it all the best
Has reversed with an increasing speed until it hit it in the chest.
Dim glow;blood flow
Eyes wide; soul go
© Raki Lyon  Create an image from this poem.

Memoirs of War

By the river corner I sat and wept
Memories of the war flooding my mind
Imagines of rotting bodies everywhere
The smell of dying children pungent still
Starvation and molestation rampant
How did things degenerate so quickly?

At all turns reality hits me quick
In the gut, so full of the pain I weep
I spy times past when laughter was rampant
Stories about my childhood come to mind
Stories that my wife tells the children still
Of blue skies and green pastures everywhere

In these stories laughter was everywhere
The young ran around full of life, very quick
Young maidens abound then, gentle and still
Men in love at their feet threatening to weep
Gestures of love lived in the young man’s mind
And the giggles of maidens were rampant

Alas now, war cries have become rampant
Snuffing out the lives of men everywhere
Empathy has been vanquished from our mind
As the years pass by children grow quickly
Awakening into the horror, weeping
They seek revenge as bloodlust grows strong still

At last the war is over, all is still
Sadly not laughter but cries are rampant
Mothers, children, fathers, everyone weeps
The smell of decay pungent everywhere 
Spreading diseases and plagues, quickening
The fears and apprehension in our minds

Daily horrible sights assault the mind
And all through the nights we have nightmares still
We awake with a start, screams echo quickly
And all around insomnia is rampant
Bloodshot eyes, frail faces move everywhere
And everyone knows that all night they wept

Quickly I run, tears flowing rampant still
Everywhere I go, lost friends haunt my mind
By the river corner I sat and wept

A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.

Dark Star

Sunlit porch dimmed by the sensation
Your alluring gloom, my fascination
Stark battle lines within me divided 
The siren call of self-degradation
Serpent and preacher wrestling inside 
Moving feet kill the negotiation

Ah, to circle your star’s periphery
Feel your dying light irradiate me
Drawn ever down by fell gravity
It chains me deep within my core
Snuffing out cool light of purity
A decaying orbit evermore

Light consumed by the fascination
Dank air, charred fragrance of damnation
Our baleful destiny is quickening
Eyes lock, ineluctable fixation
Within my throat, it rises, sickening
Yearning for ebony immolation

Entangled by the melodrama 
Of this dying star’s miasma
In its final desperate brilliance 
Inexorably rendering my heart
Falling, falling, for the killing
As the black hole pulls it apart

Deep in me swells her dark radiance
Cry desperate plea to other luminance
Every atom screaming temptation
Sweet agony of impending corruption
Yet it cracks with frosty hesitation 
My supernova of self-destruction

Roaring deafness to echoing silence
Cold, vacant throne of inner tyrant
Flame of wayward desire’s treachery
Quenched by inscrutable mystery
Deepest soul plea answered, leaving me
Just cold embers of pitch black memory

6/1/16
© Thomas W. Quigley

Necromancer

I appear with the unbegotten 
 In the hollows of the seen 
 A shadow of the soon forgotten 
 I enter through the dream

 Inhabiting the void 
 In the source of germ and seed 
 I bring forth the undestroyed 
 As time and space recede 

 In nightmares where the banished dwell 
 In spells inciting ire 
 I swallow up a newborn hell 
 Bound by wind and fire 

 Snuffing out a sun or two 
 As a galaxy expires 
 I take root in empty truths 
 With flesh as my attire

 As ill-starred seers stutter 
 And oracles retire 
 I awake the muted echoes 
 In the ruins of desire 

 Written by © Raven Drake

Eclipsed

Sparse lashes span aged lids,
framing an eye that catches light
like the clearest glass.
The softest liquid sheen - of tears?
But the eye stares blankly
without expression. 
No crinkle of joy, no distention of fear,
yet the pupil dilates, eclipsing the iris. 
Snuffing out the moon.
And there, the faintest reflection...
watching, waiting.  
He stares down Death itself
with no sign of fear.

*Inspired by Escher's "Eye"

Heroes On Distant Battlefields - Dedicated To Veterans of Foreign Wars

Traveling life's murky waters,
Were these brave men.
My friends in dark jungles.
Dying for many who did not care.

Malaria and typhoid invisible enemies;
Still then, that occasional sniper bullet,
Snuffing out a life in an instant.
Fighting for country yet hated by some.

Freedom was all they tried to preserve,
While every night evil pounding helmets.
Unrelenting hatred killing one at a time;
Sometimes a dozen in one blizzard of shells.

Living in a hell on earth to protect liberty.
Seeing dead eyes of buddies seconds ago alive.
Oh to understand what terror really is;
Surrealistic death in drowning bloody color.

Brothers found de-bowled and castrated by enemy,
Bodies hanging from beautiful rain forest trees.
Life bodily fluids dripping to feed their roots,
That horror which still lives in their minds.

Flag red stripes brightened with bloodied courage;
I ask how many Americans truly realize this?
Flying Old Glory only on National Holidays,
Oh that mental pain it has caused so many soldiers.

Coming home to icy cold stares,
Murderers seen in the eyes of some Americans.
Heroes welcome buried in front pages of wrongful war;
Medals tarnished before seeing light of another day.

Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."

© 2014 Robert William Gruhn

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