Dark Green Poems - Poems about Dark Green

When Silence Speaks

Today, the doorbell of my mental hideout rang.
It rang with a sound like twinkling waterfalls without the moisture,
And tweeted like a soft pillow from my 5-year-old camping nest.
The scorching glare of darkness crawled up the stairs and seeped
Past the crackling summer which was too cold for me.
It was a chill that was like purple and

The Stain Crusaders

"The Stain Crusaders"

Plath left the pages long ago
and Bacharach’s Blue-on-Blue
is an ineffectual softer numb-shade-of-Blue
dear green green Anthropocene 

this much is true
with all the I love you’s
the wandering crusaders
are far far removed

sitting atop their soap boxes
sudsing up all the rooms 
the silent stains in the poetic  
are hard to remove

Ajax came coding unseen 
like anticeptic

Beyond Reach

I'm out the dark alone and free.
The dark that feels light in my heart.
It's night and cold 
With stars that are old 
But in my heart it's a different world.
There's Sunshine, there's rainbows
It's where I'm beyond reach.
Out in the green.
The green that's pitch dark 
But light enough to be seen.

A Tree With Dark Green Leaves Spread

a tree with dark leaves
Spreads its bough to frame a tree
With branches light green

Dark Green Forest

I do not know what came over me
To find myself back in this hole
To change my views so suddenly
Craving the feeling to fall

I do not know why I'm so attracted
To the things that destroy me inside
To the feeling of being lost and hopeless
Like I don't want to fight to stay alive

I do not know why

Flecks

Serenity
like
flecks of gold
strewn on a 
magnificently
grandiose canvas
of rich cerulean blues
deep viridian greens
and ultramarines



AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Submitted on April 13, 2019 for contest APRIL 2019 PREMIER 4 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  RANKED 1ST

Originally posted on October 13, 2018

Dark Green Domains

As we clear cut out Forest 
and lay waste to the trees 
we unleash our demise 
like a revenging disease 
so be ye good stewards 
to the dark green domains
or it's regrowth will Feast 
on your rotting remains.

Sun Setting Over the Dark Green Fringe of a Shivering Lake

Sun setting over the dark green fringe of a shivering lake on the last day of winter
An old man still unbent sits on a deserted wooden bench
   with the load of his cares on his convex-ed back
   beside him a plastic bag full of weekend wares sags
unable to straighten his cowed

The Dark Green Conifers

another day in the woods. on Strawberry ridge
looking out over undulating green hills to
the next great wall of mountains. the last
morning clouds left from last night's storm
hanging in the valley mistily. the sun eventually
burns them away.

the respect between old Paul Karlsen and I continues
to exist. even though he's a Mormon and I'm a fallen
New Yorker.

The World In the Field

Across the fields of dark green hills, my mind flows gently free.
I close my eyes to my suprise, to see what I can see.
The flows of ripples upon the grass, as the blades lay down and part just for me,
as above my head grows a beautiful, abundant apple tree,fruit ready to eat.

I close my eyes

Has Spring Sprung

Can't seem to get off to sleep tonight, thoughts buzzing around my old head,
It's dark and quiet, the cat has gone out and the street lights have gone out too,
The odd car passes by maybe coming home from friends or a night on the town,
Could be on the way back from a restaurant a Chinese,

Has Spring Sprung

Can't seem to get off to sleep tonight, thoughts buzzing around my old head,
It's dark and quiet, the cat has gone out and the street lights have gone out too,
The odd car passes by maybe coming home from friends or a night on the town,
Could be on the way back from a restaurant a Chinese,

The Redest Popies

The corn now growing tall moving like an angry sea in a ferocious wind,
It rustles softly it is thrown back and forth by a warm billowing wind,
Rye is higher than my shoulders cerulean ears have long since been shot,
In the fields grow the reddest of red poppies they too sway in the wind.

Scarlet anagallis and

Green Spanish Eyes - Part 1

Ah Consuela! Invoking vast vistas for visions of green Spanish eyes,
I discern them again where she left me back then,
                 as we kissed when she parted, my friend.
Through those ruins I tread towards the footlights, now dead,
                 where I’ll muse as her shadows ascend.

                  .
                          .
Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she teases the mirror with green Spanish eyes;
her

Beauty and the Beast

A girl walked up and asked me,
"what is the definition of beauty?"
I smiled, and took out a piece of paper
I started to write and i said
"Beauty? That's an easy one"
Beauty is dark green eyes
Its a voice that's always laughing
Beauty is wavy brown hair
Its a heart that never stops caring
Beauty is self - conscious
Its always looking

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