Coal Black Poems | Examples

Dark Coal of Night

Incinerating us
one night coal black
my lover lit a match
in a hot flash
and things he said cannot
be taken back
as cinders sift into
heart’s bottom ash!

Dew Fresh Morn

An ombré of coal black
zinnia red
across stygian sky
metamorphose
the stelliferous night
when sunrays tread
the dewy morn awakes
red as a rose!



Placed fifth
VIBRATIONS FROM A VERSO Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud 
25th July,2025

Birds' Day

They dive and circle as if in hypnotic state,
Tiny wrens, and ravens, and coal black crows.
When trucks dumps their loads, the flurry of fowl contemplate
Savory morsels or just household throws.

The noise of large tractors, and of sharp shrills and caws,
Of wild wings flapping over a landfill,
The thrown scraps from a table bring the birds to a pause,
Then landing en mass for a full belly fill.

It's exciting to watch them,  yet worries my mind.
Some of the garbage is not fit to eat.
To the forests and meadows, there are rich foods to find,
While hanging bird feeders are quite a treat.

Winter Scene

The most baby blue, two-storied house; baby blue chimney;
and milk-chocolate-brown rooftop. A whimsical triangle pine,
in front and ‘longside the home, seems to be atop a hill,
newly covered in pearl-gray white snow.

Spheres of snow, descending and ascending - spirited
prayers on Jacob’s ladder. Chimney, roof, house, and
fence posts dotted with drips of snow. Likewise, snow
shudders underneath the shutters eyelids.

Posts, of beige, baby pink, milk chocolate and tawny,
wrapped in holly berries and leaves; Coal-black iron gate,
more open than closed with crafted hearts.

Home surrounded by holly berry arch - perhaps a red cardinal
will alight and give a delightful nibble on a berry or two.

The pine and shutters, piquant. Ponders the apple of the eye,
stitched to the variance of woven threads, surely by foible,
needle and fragile fingers, not reaching for perfection,
but perfectly piques the curiosity for a poet’s meditation.

Eyes on the Fish

Hungry for ideas -
a fish dish would help,
an unhinged arm's length away,
way over the Yangtze River,
where, far from the nearest eyeball,
drunken cormorants dive
for silverplated carp.
Alas, any old iron skillet
will not fit this oily range,
I will have to cowboy it,
first, beans and baby powder
to talcum my muffins
while I break-in some roughhewn chaps,
then to rodeo this coal-black cooker,
as I lasso a China man,
a wise angler who knows how to catch,
the natural gas of an angry Puffer Fish.

Above the Melting Ice

Above the Melting Ice

Soft white skin, taut and smooth.
Insulated from the Arctic cold,
Snuggled warm in its wetsuit, he sleeps. 

Protected from predators, 
Camouflaged as a mound of snow,
Ignoring sounds of cracking and popping.

Each inhale releases, exhales,
The slightest shift in movement, 
Flippers anchored to his round form.

Slow to stir, he scratches. 
Returning to the place of now,
Covered in quiet contentment. 

Coal-black eyes scan the horizon,
Nourished by the bounty within the icy waters, 
Effortless, he slips into the abyss.

A place of serene silence, 
Embraced by the essence of life,
Peaceful, pristine, perfect. 

I too must remember, 
The embrace of life’s essence,
Living above the melting ice.

I miss

Forcing myself 
to live in green-
belt of forest with
no civil comforts or concerns
I don’t flinch. I won’t.

Living in
extremes of 
two seasons
cinder-hot Sun
drowning rain
I don’t complain, I can’t

one summer was different

A passionate couple
Fire-Air, waltzed through
acres of my nearby forest,
grey-burning lives small & big –
I didn’t cry. 

After HER party, I
went to see the charred
landscape, my heart thumped
wild, I could feel my soul in throat –
I didn’t cry

I stilled my thoughts - I
knelt  to feel, I knelt
to beat coal-black ground, I
thumped chest, I flayed my 
hands to sky, I howled,	

Roared, wailed, cried
I clenched my fist,
boxed at guiltless air, I
called his partner names –
I sobbed back to silence

With impotent-raging silence
my hands cradled a tiny
dying burnt bird gasp for last
gulp of air, I knelt
in silence. That day
I cried, I missed God that day

I sobbed back to silence

When Summer Is Gone

Autumn gives heed to the season's clarion call.
In dispute with the tree branches, leaves fall
The sun sometimes seems withdrawn.
Red-yellow mix delightedly paints the dawn
Winds and wintry in slow- races compete
Untimely rains naughtily mock the heat.
Days, yearning to sleep long, move fast
In clouds appear apparitions of contrast.
Harvest and celebrations erupt in delight.
The moon and stars brighten the coal-black night.
Love and romance, as oxygen, fill the air.
The exuberance of this season, O darling, let's share!

A Flap of Crows

The bare branches were shaking,
twigs rattled like ill-fitting teeth.


I thought:
'any moment now
the coal black lumpiness of them
will break a bough,
and all tumble down or up,
creating sky-slides of avian tumult'.


They jousted at each other,
clattering their sharp quilled feathers
like angry Black Knights.

The very air shook as they bounced,
up and down
imitating hooligans on a drunken spree -
rowdy 'caws' assaulting all ears.

Then,
in a sudden spray of alarmed confusion
they scattered, wheeling away,
in every direction.

From behind a thick-glass window,
someone must have muttered:

Shoo!

marley’s maxim

the frozen soil crumbled
falling into my eyes and horrified mouth
as I gripped the sodden roots on
the rim of the pit
my strength waning, (and my will) …
at the bottom of the hole, a wooden casket
yawned like the jaws of Death itself
lid open and shaking like a splintered tongue
the glow of Hell's embers below it ...
flames licking its sides and
reaching up to the soles of my feet
but not with heat
rather, an intolerable coldness that made
my marrow ache for an end …
as my grasp weakened
and the roots of the twisted old tree
slipped thru my hands
I looked up at the stars -
winking like candles
and said a prayer for my soul
the ragged clang of Marley’s chains
still torturing my ears
and the crooked, bony finger of the Reaper
wagging with reproach
his coal black eyes sparkling and lifeless
as the sky drew away
and I fell ...
to my wretched doom.

These Things I Do

The stock of the rifle is hand-selected walnut.

I dust a beautiful porcelain lady.

My Nikon needs to be taken out of its case
like a coal black memory.

I pick up a quartz crystal,
put it to my eye
don't know why.

I drive out at night
with no aim or destination.

I go to the Oriental grocery emporium.
Cooking into the unknown
is my space travel.

These things I do are tramlines,
These things I do are rituals
for the safe-side of my mind.

I Believe

I believe in beautiful mornings,
Lapis lazuli skies,
Cotton ball clouds,
Waking up slowly,
Feeling the lovely warmth,
More ardent than a trillion suns,
Emanating from the person beside you,
As you can’t help it
But embrace the small of their back.

I believe in dusk,
Sunsets of roses and tulips,
Red, pink, orange, purple.
I believe in star shine,
Coal-black nights,
Pierced by billions of stars,
Precious sparkling ores and gems,
Surrounding a crescent moon,
Like a smile amid the darkness,
But still finding it not as wonderful
As the way they smile
When you gingerly caress their face.

I believe in beauty,
The beauty of nature,
The beauty of the world.
But it isn’t nearly as wonderful
As when you have someone 
To share it with.

The Last Halloween Night

The rain drops, drip-drops from the eaves
Wind creates a sighing in the amber needled pine trees
Moonless night puts all in this fall's deep night sleep
Even howling from coyotes slowly slows and cease

There's a ghoulish feeling to the damp air's flight
As the mist swirls on this coal black night
Invited inside where a small fire in the fireplace is aglow 
Where a comforting warmth from the hearth does flow

The silvery hair upon his old head
As memories of years gone by have suddenly fled
They left on Alzheimer's tangles last call
This most dreaded Halloween of all   

Written: October 31, 2022

Weather

restless heavens strike
sky pregnant with tsunami ---
coal black gloomy clouds

thunderbolt assaults
gleam daylight cleaves into dusk ---
waves of cosmos break

rainbow pacifies 
winds wash their face in drizzles ---
sun in day dream blinks


21 September 2022
A Haiku Collection of Three - Nature Themed Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Syllables Checked in: PS Syllable Counter

Black Ice

wham!

you tried …
tried to tread upon me
weight placed, committally
body-to-heel, heel-to-sole
sole … to soul
my renewed spirit
(since the aberration, You)
such a grand target
blossoming like ink on damp khadi
so who wouldn’t, right?
I mean …
it was there, waiting …
readily available
seemingly compliant
and you have to scrape your
boots SOMEwhere …
so … why not?
(ah, why not, indeed!)
only THIS time I was préparé
and your balance betrayed you
as you betrayed dreams
desires …
us -
(as moonlight betrays the gloaming) …
oh, those pretty pumps found
their mark, alright
but you should have looked closer -
tread a bit more carefully
cuz that familiar path had changed
darkened, (by your apathy)
hardened, (by your carelessness)
and frozen, (by your coal-black heart) …
thus …
down you went - bam!
in a lump of shock and consternation
landing flat on your beautifully
bloated ego
and all I could do was smile …
a pity, really
and I AM sorry that you bruised your
fat aspirations, my dear
but YOU created this new creature I inhabit -
shadowy beast that I am
cold, hard truth of a monster
your ex-doormat …
your …

black ice.

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