Best Somberness Poems
The moon illuminated the sloping terrain,
Following the hills down to the sea.
Daisies proudly displayed their blossoms,
Windswept spruce swayed in the breeze.
Above, menacing clouds drifted,
Diminishing this awesome sight for me.
A storm gathered on the scene,
Stretching across nature’s canopy.
Lightning flashed on the mountains,
Bringing shivers to my spine.
Somberness came quickly upon me,
While the moon struggled to shine.
It cast eerie light and shadow upon the sea,
Revealing small, rippling waves.
Suddenly a menacing object arose,
Capturing my morbid gaze.
A ghoulish entity appeared.
This, all logic defies.
My hair stood up, tingling.
I couldn’t believe my eyes!
I closed them for a moment,
And wondered what it could be?
Was it still there?
Yes! A monster from the sea!
Gloomy hills in the distance.
Dark clouds lingering above.
Far off mountains echoed thunder.
I was too frightened to move.
It took courage to look at the object—
I could see its upper half.
A large hump revealed its body;
Its long neck was like a giant giraffe.
The Loch Ness Monster!
Right here in plain sight!
It gripped me in terror,
Filling my heart with fright.
I closed my eyes quickly,
Holding tightly to a willow.
Awakened suddenly from sleeping,
I buried my head on a pillow.
While wand'ring ghost town scenes of memories
Loose mind like shutters bang in channeled thoughts
Old haunting spirits restless and distraught
Now roam deserted streets like tumbleweeds
Dirt devils funnel, scattering dead seeds
As rattling chains of broken bonds stretch taut
Dark tortured faceless shadows, though not sought
Appear in screenless windows taunting me
Behind saloons in alleys where we played
Lie trash cans spilled of hope and broken dreams
Discarded remnants of relationships
Have all but disappeared from time's decay
Those youthful days spent by the sun dried stream
Are now recalled in silent somberness
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
The Journey of Love
Authored by Chuck Keys
Reading a poem of love I wonder,
what does a warm summer day feel,
when it has no memory of the loss of
how its heat faded in time, ever so slow,
one tiny silent drip at a time, like a leaky faucet.
It comes to pass eventually,
knowing that time has digested the differences
from what it was,
to what it is and to what it will be.
It is forever lost at this time.
A lonely somberness soon fills the void of the wonder and warmth,
daylight ebbs and flows into darkness and soon loses its distinction.
Loneliness follows and the love is non-retrievable,
without love, life is never the same ...
an endless emptiness follows and stays, lingering.
the murky depths of the night drifts off the lone fisherman
to the tamarind yellow river shaded with ecru of ambiguity;
wind whispers wrapped in sweet somberness and shivery softness;
yonder a hint of golden honey light beckons a beautiful uncertainty.
Do not leave me alone in this darkness.
We rave and rant in suffering, who won’t?
Dwell in me and come help me to bear this.
Men of the world know better than this, bliss!
Take pleasure from life, and that’s it! But, don’t!
Do not leave me alone in this darkness.
Knowledge and power is world’s raw justice.
Without a reason is simply a taunt.
Dwell in me and come help me to bear this.
Wealth is the key to health and happiness.
Life is a reverie, money can paint.
Do not leave me alone in this darkness.
Self-contentment is utter completeness.
There isn’t any need for You. A feint!
Dwell in me and come help me to bear this.
You are my Helper in this somberness;
Incompleteness becomes liberating.
Do not leave me alone in this darkness;
Dwell in me and come help me to bear this.
October arrives
so unlike the long dry hot summer of 2015.
Mornings are damp and cool with dewy drips of somberness
and soft shadows fading off into the background.
A blustery chilling wind races through the trees
rushing gray clouds quickly across the skies.
The cry of crickets is lost in the oncoming night
and the nakedness of nature disrobes in the dark.
The dress and glory of spring seems lost forever
hidden in the brown withered grass below.
Blue jays shriek and cardinals call out
shrill lonely spectres seeking refuge from the change.
Autumn reaches in with cold and icy fingers
to draw shadows in the twilight as the sun falls fast asleep.
In the harvest moonlight leaves will shed from their branches
and the world will draw its blanket tight against it's face.
October arrives quietly, then tenacious and cold
takes its hold upon the earth.
Well, Halloween’s different this year –
More things that are real we must fear
And with no trick or treat
There’s no junk I can eat
So of candy corn I can stay clear.
Home and stoop decorations are few
And there’s hardly a costume on view.
When I walked down the street
I expected to meet
Little kids in their dress-up debut.
Chalk it up to another thing lost
And I wonder – what will be the cost?
Will we snap back real fast
Or will somberness last?
For the former, my fingers are crossed.
All of the roads this bold rambler took
were narrow and dark; a half-moon hung very low
displaying its melancholic mood never turning mellow...
it had a perplexed glance as if it wondered how he mistook
its somberness as an anticipation to foretell sorrow,
which showed often when it appeared as a merrow...
wallowing in gleaming waves with brooding tones
that injected more fear into his strong bones!
How lost he seemed without any star, flickering from the Void,
to guide his footsteps; he often tripped and prevented
a fall with a tactic learned trekking through mountains:
when agility and strength were essential to his survival skills!
How he looked above to interact with someone he dearly loved,
who had gone beyond without a chance to say " Farewell, "
leaving many words on his tongue never spoken to dispel
how untrue her affection was whenever he sought truthfulness,
or proof that she had kept her vow as pure as her loveliness!
All of the roads that this bold rambler took
were the foreshadowing of events to come to shape his fate,
and as adverse as they would have been, he felt no immediate need to alter it
by accepting challenges and fighting off his rivals filled with implacable hate;
which antagonist force controlled his will? Did he overlook
his sensibility...was he mocked for being too honest?
Copyright ( c ) 2018 by Andrew Crisci
Written on the:
(Biblical Calendar) 14th Day of the 7th Month, 5775
(Gregorian Calendar) 27th of September, 2015
The archway with candles lit around it
Illuminating it's hollow beyond the mass grave
Of fallen bodies of men, women and children
Who lie peacefully in prominence.
A widow sheds a tear,
Dressed in black
With a veil shadowing her face,
She weeps until her eyes bleed
And until the ground is soaked with her sorrows.
Dusk settles
The sun deviates it's reflection from the bodies of the fallen,
And once again the darkness reigns for twelve hours
Where evil revels it's deceitful intervention.
The moon is arrayed in it's light
But the dust and smoke of buildings bombed
And houses torched, engulfs the beauty of it's resurrection,
With the smell and taste of somberness and melancholy
Stained with the absence of death and vile.
Form:
I Am
I am woman in the Realm of Man
I am inner light in a place that’s growing dim
I am strength in a time that reaps weakness
I am deep as an ocean in a dry and barren land
I am unusual in a uniformly yielding world
I am colorful when shades of dullness unveil
I am animation in a slow motion picture
I am Harmony in the Clash of the Ages
I am truth in a creation of lies
I am a rock holding up the quick sands of time
I am hope in a land full of despair
I am inner child as conformity matures
I am integrity in a world grown corrupt
I am courage in the face of adversity
I am faithfulness to the Great I Am
I am control when all seems helpless
I am melody when cacophony rains down
I am sobriety in a drunken state of mind
I am Mother Nature trapped in a web of steel
I am serenity as the raging storm sets in
I am bliss when life grows cumbersome
I am craziness that guards against insanity
I am soul as the flesh bleeds and withers
I am laughter when somberness invades
I am more than what existence intended me to be!
A DEITY
Sonorous
Rhythms from the belfry waft
A call of our votive worship to give.
In your sacred tent we besiege you.
For, to you our exultation to dole and your
Mercy on us to cascade.
The tune of the harmonica, our souls with your
Aura harmonized and in revere towards you our
Knees bend, for a deity you are.
The
Torrent of your kindness
The scale cannot contain.
Hear the crow of the cock,
See the sun hastily rise,
Hear the nightingale sing,
See, the lilies to the luring melody
Of the wind dance, all in wonder of your mystique.
On you eternally the aureole will rest for a deity you are.
But
For the torrential reign of darkness,
In sobriety the votaries sit, for firm root
The heinous ones take.
See, the rivers maimed, the hallowed groove
Denuded and the cedar usurped.
Our joy darken and our hope vague.
See, a once tranquil earth an orchard of hope
Now a vale of nadir where anarchy reigns.
But in trance mother earth till doomsday you
Will not remain for a deity you are.
Our
Filial obligation we paid
An errant, mother earth you are not
For the knell of darkness, for you we wait to sound.
Wipe the gores of the proselytes, for runnel of tears
Your sacred tent they make.
Make a deluge of light our darkness parched earth.
For the dawn of your sagacity, mother earth we await.
Though the earth somberness enshrouds, mother earth
Enshrined your divinity is, for over you sullenness falls not
For a deity you are.
(Dedicated to the goddess mother earth)
Written for the people of the Amazon and coastal
regions(Niger delta) of Nigeria.
To greet the day, the sun does rise
overrun with golden flames.
To my surprise, that centered sphere
has a thing for slender dames.
His solar slopes descend on her
but a yard from where I sat.
He found for me a single point,
and acute young girl at that.
She sported quite a quadrant fair,
parabolic hips and chest;
and though she too thought I was fine,
I derived her somberness.
Perhaps our origin would bring
disappointment to her folks;
her bottled sobs did soon subtract,
and in tears, she softly spoke:
"Parental factors intervene;
our equation can't be solved."
I kissed her puckered sinusoids:
"but our bond will not dissolve.
Your father's but a variable,
and I know, with time, he'll change.
Don't fret--we're bound by constant love;
his approval's in my range.
It matters not where we may lie,
here amongst this earthly plane;
two points are always linear,
and a pair of hearts won't wane!"
7. “Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” Owens, Delia. Where the Crawdads Sing, Chapter 17: “Crossing the Threshold” (p. 124).
Somberness into existence is not a tumble.
Earth's ever-changing season mumbles.
Longing, pining, and scouring to leap, a sense free.
To beat, rupture of the endometrium of worry.
Find out how to tour this aesthetical orb.
Whatever you might protect is potherb.
Each step will pay off; Earth seems endless.
Maintain in mind her charming prowess.
Without mild radiation, stars would be ablaze.
The sparkle of your eyes makes you in a daze.
Shine bright, we made you for this world.
The zeal of fate, separate yourself from the herd.
It soars, snows, splashes, and seeks shelter.
Grasping beyond, setting up a binding welter.
Fall leaves were reflected on the bright floor.
Is it confined to a life of pain, as to explore?
Will the fall petals retain the bitterness of the shrub?
Was it chopped from moisture roots and snubs?
Are you rebelling over harsh conditions outside?
Or maybe the mood wasn't truly steady inside.
I identify dry autumn leaves with a restless soul.
How are the parts pulled out of the whole?
During leisurely walks. Integrate, and create a flow.
Awareness of the paradox of infinite glow.
Written: December 24, 2022
Feel Free Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
my hope hangs
with these stars
lost somewhere
beneath darkness
in the valance
of clouds
that hang
overhead
in the somberness
of january's wrath
as it rains down
its icy tears
beyond the hill
the moon hangs still
She is
sallow-skinned, salacious, seductive beauty,
secure, safely sequestered in seclusion;
sinking, shaking, shattered, submerged
self-contained, self-centered in selfless solitude
she sleeps,
a slip of a slenderized, spindly silhouette
silenced in the stillness of somberness, sinless seer,
savoring simplistic, soothed in shadowy shades of night.
she teeters titillated,
transparent in tranquil twilight,
twinkling tangibility, a trembling in tenacious transition,
thoughtful trepidation, turning trophies to tantalizing treasures.
She exists
exaggerated expose' of effortless excised evenings
effused in embellished effervescent eloquence,
edgy enamored edicts, elated egotistical empowerment,
she wanders wistfully
where the wonders of a whirlwind wanting world waits,
wrapping wordsmithing into whimsical warbled wakings,
wishful wisdom with warm-hearted whistlings of womanhood;
she clutches
coddling childlike care, carvings cast and chastised
in cumulous clouded circles, cohesive cycles
of confident contented cerebral communion;
she dances
drifting in decreed danglings, dark, dangerous, delicious
purple plagued palettes of perceptive pewtered perfection
lavender lust, listless languishing lucid, luminous lilies,
there at last, she finds
inner evolution, deepest peace, lasting rest
and so
she sleeps within her dreams.