Best Vacant Poems


Premium Member Within the Depths of My Vacant Soul

When she walked by my side on a lonely road
And took me to the other side, much more verdant,
Through the barren lands of scorched desert,

Clueless I was about the paradigm of love.

If only had I asked, she would’ve taken me there
Into the sunshine from darkened shadows,
From the juncture of fears and saddened tears.

But I remained silent when it was time to speak
Choosing to not tell her how much I loved her
As I held the distance between bliss and sorrow,
When impulsively I veered in the wrong direction.

And I never saw the pastures beyond the hills 
Or beauty of the terrain past the river bend.

Going where feckless ages have gone before
Embarking upon a path well-traveled
Ignoring pretty flowers in unkempt meadows.

Yet, she came to rescue at the edge of my angst
From caveats of today, cautions of tomorrow,
Standing with me in the midst of winter-storm
Promising spring flowers in colors of fall.

I saw the blossoms that were about to bloom
And blush on horizon hinting of the rising sun

And I heard the tempo of a concert on piano,

While roiled in turmoil of the unsaid, the unwritten,
Hidden within the depths of my vacant soul;

Incapable of voicing what the silence evoked.

September 18, 2019
Placed 1st: Crossroads poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One 
Placed 1st: Strand contest #710 by Brian Strand
Categories: vacant, love hurts,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Tears in Vacant Rooms

Written: March 05, 2025 

         ***********************

As the final petal droops
upon quivering leaves,
while the soul begins to decay
akin to the evening lights 
fading into a coffin.
Tears flow quietly across vacant rooms,
sheltered in the hidden retreat, 
of a hapless fool folly.
Aged and forsaken, an ancient blade lies 
on a ragged oak table.
All around the termite-ridden 
floorboards are strewn with 
tattered sheets of stories.
Valiant voices of victory,
vibrate in vivid verses,
preserved with lively Ink. 

Decades of disarray have faded away, 
leaving behind a cherished tale, 
its inked revelations whirl into a frenzy, 
as I peer through the glass, 
reminiscing about those golden days
when my youth overflowed with joy. 
I couldn't assist but notice
the drooping scarlet dahlias.
A gleaming golden crown, 
sparkling with lovely 
crimson queens 
rests upon the head of a forlorn exile—
and that is all that remains.  
Under the relentless sun   
that preys upon the flames, 
how can I rise above 
the crimson chaos 
that encroaches at the edges, 
surrounding the ghostly grave 
of the poetic soul 
I have lost in the quest for acclaim.  
 
Within the weeping window, 
a wild wonder reveals itself, 
draped in a vivid shade of vermilion.  
Amid the whispers of wayward spirits, 
the flawless porcelain of our past 
now bears unsightly marks.  
Fractured dreams are embellished 
with delicate threads, while shafts of 
sunlight slices through shadowy skies.  
The family fortress, 
frozen in cold stone, 
waits for its wary wanderer, 
beckoning the illustrious 
to traverse its dimly paths.  
In the serene silence of slumber, 
the sorrowful saga emerges.  

The embrace of eternal sleep.  
A chilling chronicle of the collapse 
cascades in the corridors 
akin to a haunting harmony.  
The aspiration and avarice  
ultimately overwhelmed us  
As the clock chimed cheerfully 
at midnight on that chilling night, 
the cunning usurper brandished 
a blade and brutally 
broke their beings, 
birthing ghosts of grim, 
unspoken words to weep 
behind weathered walls.  
At this moment, I am 
the emerald evening 
of the early dawn, 
The waxen white wick 
that waits before their 
weathered tombstone is 
withered to a whisper.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: vacant, analogy, death, fear,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member to heal a vacant heaven -

the gods …

awoke early that day
for the sun had swallowed the moon
and left a ragged, gaping wound in the sky …
it bled darkness like cold oil
threatening to stain
all that they had labored to create
not the least of which -
humankind -
had yet to suck a breath
or betray their common senses
but …
what of Byzantium, they pondered?
the horizon still ached for sails
but to weave an empty sky was doom
even for the regal bateaux of Valhalla -
‘breach the canopy’, they thought
sew the temporal seam with
threads of divine intent ...
net the stars like silver herring and
bind them to the gunwales, en masse -
grave the hulls on the cosmos
and set the sextant to unholy dreams ...
the day be damned
it would end nonetheless
and tomorrow would
still come ...

sail on!







~ 1st Place ~  in the "Standard Contest Number 145 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

This poem did NOT place  in the "A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God" Poetry Contest.
Categories: vacant, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Vacant Eyes

You've seen that look before,
so many times that you lost count
It's the look of hopelessness,
the look of despair
Vacant eyes that no longer care
Who let the emptiness in,
who stole their zest for life
Who squeezed the vitality out,
who removed their heart with a cold butcher's knife
Was this travesty done swift and surgically,
or perhaps it happened incrementally
Bit by bit,
drip by drip
Everything they every cared about
got clean ripped from their hands
Maybe they lost their kids
on a drunk driving holiday
Maybe lost the spouse,
when forgiving them was too hard a thing to pray
Maybe lost the house after losing the job
Whatever the reasons, former associates and friends shun them now,
because maybe they think that they're cursed with plain bad luck
Maybe having no family to speak of,
got them thinking life sucks
Down on their luck right now
would be a kind thing to say
But in their heart they know better,
for every sin committed, there's a pound of flesh to pay
So they wander around lifelessly
with that vacant look in their eye
Just wasting the time away until the day they die
Categories: vacant, depression, hurt, pain, sad,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Premium Member Echoing Vacant Sound

Rising above the destitute land
Barren are the quiet hills now
Echoing terrain's vacant sound
There, where sweet home was.

Tree uprooted quivers gently
Its scattered mangled remains
Swaying aches of forsaken pain
Mourning tranquility's death. 

In solitude this climb he treks 
Aspiring zest of rising dawns
As they concede to sullen days
Looking for her presence
Ever since the oldest tree fell
And the lone bird fled its nest.

The sunrise still evokes her name,
So does her beloved sunset.

Despite the dearest hopes he held 
She never returned this way.

March 5, 2019
Placed first: Standard contest #190 by Brian Strand
Categories: vacant, heartbreak, lost love,
Form: Verse

Premium Member ~vacant Dwelling~

I’ve been here many times before
The door still wears the same coat of paint
The gold colored doorknob
Have only few patches of gold left
The years of wear and tear evident
Sliding it open that old familiar smell 
Wafts pass me, as if in a rush to escape…


The emptiness screams at me 
In a fight to jolt my memory 
Alas it’s not necessary 
I use to spend days here
Recollection comes naturally
Days of lying on the couch
Soaking up the fresh sea breeze,
When the day was almost done

You sitting in your favorite chair
We would talk for hours at a time
Now all that’s left are memories
Laughter is gone and with it the sun
Too many open spaces
In this place where love use to dwell…
Categories: vacant, life, places
Form: Free verse


The Hollow City

(The Hollow City Cycle include:
The Hollow City
I Remember You -- the city speaks
Last One Left)

No footsteps echo on broken stone,
only wind dragging secrets through dust.
The city sighs—
its breath made of ivy and rust.

Windows gape like hollow eyes,
watching nothing, remembering everything.
A carousel groans beneath twisted vines,
still waiting for laughter
that will never return.

Billboards fade into ghost stories.
Sidewalks crack like old skin.
Somewhere, a music box plays
a broken lullaby
to the bones of joy.

This place is a tomb
with the scent of childhood chalk
and the silence of too-late prayers.

Whatever happened here
left no fire,
only
quiet.
Categories: vacant, sick, war,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Vacant Eyes

Vacant eyes, what do they see?
She seems to be entranced
Her expression holds a mystery
From those of us who glance
From heavy hearts we try so hard
To reach her with a smile
We walk beside her through the yard
Beside us for awhile
So lost in other worlds apart
We can't begin to know
Yet, slowly as her face lights up
And eyes shine brightly so
She seems to see what we cannot
Then calls out someone's name
Her hand extends, she reaches out
She says she's glad he came
Though no one's there, it's only me
Her eyes,....they glisten with a smile
Her steps seem lighter, young and free
              if only for awhile....
Categories: vacant, caregiving, lost love, love
Form: Free verse

Vacant

Vacant
Stripped of substance
Deserting enshrined space
Emptiness naps upon cobwebs
Unused
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: vacant, angst
Form: Cinquain

Premium Member Vacant Throne of Grace

crown of gold laid aside- abandoned throne of grace vacant...all for man!
~*~
  

                     *                                  *                      *              
Note:  #4 in a series of 24 Monokus reflecting the holy season of Christmas
                *                            *                                *                         *


By:  Audrey Carey
Contest:  "Amazing One Line"
Sponsor:  Constance La France
Categories: vacant, faith, holiday, introspection, life,
Form: Monoku

Vacant House

(06/04/2013)


I can feel something is watching 
me behind
Its stare is freezing my spine
I try to lift my foot, yet no 
movement shown
I open my mouth and scream, not 
even a hush moaned

It darkens the room, I can feel
It’s not in any shape of real
Is that a ghost?
Or I just hate this place too much 
I feel worst?

This abstract in a dark-shade-I-
can’t-classify
Reaching me and I can’t defy
Sweeping the wall, it crawls 
Releasing its rage, it growls

I still cannot move and I’m muted
My friend pokes me waken to go in 
for my dare
A vacant house that refuses to be 
disturbed
I swear I wouldn't want to through 
the same nightmare
Categories: vacant, dark, me,
Form: Rhyme

Vacant Chairs

A back-room dweller,
nervous hands in his pockets,
seeks his acceptance.
© Zack Tesla  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: vacant, depression,
Form: Haiku

Vacant Heart, Vacant Mind

Vacant heart, vacant mind, what have I done?
I wander these days with my soul on the run.

Although my mind is full I feel empty,
a whilrwind laden with confusion and memory's debris.

My heart aches to feel the love I once had,
Do I really wish to carry on feeling sad?

Hold me as you once did in our moments of solitude,
forget about the scars on your heart that are forever tattooed.

For they will heal if you let your pain and anger go,
if you accept my love to you on whom I bestow.

All these long days undecided,
don't let the influence of others lead you to be misguided.

Vacant heart, vacant mind, I never wanted to be apart from you,
lonliness, anger, fear, regret, together must be subdued.
Categories: vacant, hope, lost love, sad,
Form: Elegy

Premium Member Vacant Lot

.   
                 in a nettled field riddled with foxtail that pricks the sun
                     a Popsicle wrapper clings to a thistle in sweet surrender
                          remembering the yesterdays of bare feet and blue jeans
Categories: vacant, childhood, nature
Form: Sijo

Circular -The Throne Is Vacant-

One savior down.
A king to end all kings.
He's a healer but he can't fix us all.
So invent a disease.
This king brought to his knees.
He's our savior but he can't save us all.

We're all inherently sick.
We're made to feel worthless.
There's only one neat little trick.
We must open wide and worship.

I won't go down that road.
We're all superior.
Sometimes we get complacent.
Sometimes we feel inferior.
The first born king.
His throne is vacant.
The bells all ring.
We're not going to take it.

He'll step down and come back three days later.
That's what we call a miracle.
It's too bad none of it really happened.
You bet we can make it spherical.
It's true because our book says it's true. It's true because our book says it's true.
It's true because our book says it's true....
Categories: vacant, fantasy,
Form: Alliteration
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