Dark Hours Poems | Examples

We Are Family

We live;
To be the ones who sing and dance.


We love;
And do in variety and kind.


We cry;
In pain but also out of joy.


We envy;
That denied, forbidden us.


We eat;
To fill or just for pleasure's sake.


We speak;
With words but also with an art.


We build;
Creations that define ourselves.


We hunt;
To find the basic truth in us.


We teach;
To set examples for our kind.


We strive;
For better versions of ourselves.


We yearn;
To be or simply not to be.


We believe;
So in dark hours we find hope.


Now some ignore, do fail or will not see; 
However complex we evolved to be; 
A simple truth refined us naturally;
We are and will remain a family.

Premium Member WINTER

It now sneaks up within the grey      
And brings the Arctic air our way    
Its evil spell is taking hold
So we must brace against the cold.
Celsius degrees hit sub zero
And small mammals burrow below
To escape from the worst of times   
And most birds fly to warmer climes

The sky that was a joyful view
Now dreary grey replaces blue 
Each day we see no sign of sun
That pleasure now is surely gone
We suffer shortage of day light    
And shiver through each day and night
But we endure and we pray
That long dark hours go away  
We dream about the coming spring  
When daylight then is lengthening 
And bringing joyful springtime skies
And then we see the snowdrops rise.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Dark Hours

* for my dear State of Maine *

                   ~

such tears we shed for tender flesh

          that dearest matter, bullets thresh

               oh, how can we e’er learn to trust

     when evil wears a face like us?


still, most good folks with hearts afire

          know love can drown a monster’s ire

               for each dark soul with evil’s face

     a thousand good … will take its place. 








Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden
October 27, 2023
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Journal

"As water flows down when a faucet is turned on, thoughts and feelings pour out into a journal cleansing the heart" ~ By Poet

I keep a journal, a treasure chest of memories.
Where I record each day’s activities
Where I divulge my innermost secrets

As my feelings overflow into each blank page,
I get the therapeutic effect of unburdening my heart.
Though I scrawl down in messy hand,
It is a slice of my heart and I treasure it,
More than any other document I have.

Every day I empty my heart into its pages,
My pen bleeds words in red.
I paint me as I am, honest and truthful.

I don’t want to be a sham.
Here I lay bare my life,
Fraught with aches, dotted with smiles.
My longings and my heart aches
My expectations, my disappointments
My triumphs, my defeats
My search through every nook n’ cranny for success
My plunge into the nadir of despair on defeat
My moments of escalating joy
My dark hours of crippling distress
Everything I want to be,
Everything I fail to be.

Journaling, poetry, and prayer fill my day.
They help me keep all my boredom away!

Mind Attack

I was assaulted last night,
sleepless gray hands
attached to an insane mind
kept me on the edge
of delirium.
Mind attacks are never real
but when the dark hours
cling to you like spiders
you follow those crazy thoughts
believing it is you who thinks them
but it is the spiders, the
neuronal web-weaving spiders
that talk and talk and talk
as they walk up and down
your cringing spine.


Empty Nest

Sitting on a chair at the front door, 
wishing for cars to stop by the road,
waiting until the dark hours of the night; 
Night would be bright if their shadows would show. 

Holding my wife's hands as I look at her face, 
trying to measure the depth of her thoughts, 
trying to fill the cup of her emptiness,
as tears from her pretty eyes slowly fall. 

Filling the empty rooms with memories of the past,
like those sweet moments were just like yesterday.
Sounds of their noises echo through my ear, 
as the toys that guard the empty rooms crave for their touch.

Oh! I miss them so much, as I miss their memories.  
How I wish they're just near to be held. 
How long shall my eyes crave for the light of their smile? 
How long shall my heart miss the warmth of their embrace? 

May 1, 2023 

Empty Nest Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Cooper Etheridge

Premium Member A Preface To My Poetry

I have emptied my heart into these pages
My pen has bled words in red
You can look straight into me 
I have painted me as I am 
Honest and truthful

I don’t want to be a sham
Here have I laid bare my life
Fraught with aches, dotted with smiles
My longings and my heart aches
My expectations, my disappointments
My triumphs, my defeats
My search through every nook n’ cranny for success
My plunge into the nadir of despair on defeat
My moments of escalating joy
My dark hours of crippling distress
Everything I wanted to be
Everything I failed to be

Loaded with imagination, 
Some are purely fictional, I admit.

Yet how a poet unveils himself/herself  
Through the tone and timbre of one's verse

Please have a peek into it
Read the candid chronicle of my life
And tell me if my soul is black or white

____________________________


November. 6. 2022

A Freed Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand

Premium Member The Mirror of My Life

I have mirrored the whole of my life 
On this mercurial surface
I have painted myself on this glossy canvas
My pen has bled words in red
You can look straight into me 
As you see my reflection on a mirror
I have sketched me as I am 
Honest and truthful, 
Sans distortion or contortion

I don’t want to be a sham
Here have I laid bare my life
Fraught with aches, dotted with smiles
My longings and my heart aches
My expectations, my disappointments
My triumphs, my defeats
My search through every nook n’ cranny for success
My plunge into the nadir of despair on defeat
My moments of escalating joy
My dark hours of crippling distress

Everything I wanted to be
Everything I failed to be
Please have a peek into my porous heart
Assess this candid chronicle of my life
And tell me if my soul is black or white

Sometimes I feel I am a life boat without oars
Floating aimless hither and tither
But I see light houses of joy in between
To pilot my way over shoals and breakers!


May. 5.2022
Placed Third

In the Mirror of Life Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Dark Hours

Shrivelled day,
Mottled charred desires,
Still pursuits,
Dying hope,
Shadowed duty engagement,
We fall and rise still.
Form: Shadorma

We Wait

While we wait

  The terrace of our flat is a place for retired kings
  the sun shines humbly not burning my nose and 
  the sea is calm as a full glass of water left 
 undisturbed in the kitchen during the dark hours,
outside in the streets, the pest is raging, closed 
shops and full hospitals, death is aggravating,
caused by people refusing to wear masks or go to
parties and illegal revelries, the pest is demanding 
payment, nothing is free if you are not prepared
to dance with death not dressed for the occasion.
In the interim, we sit inside and wait for the vaccine.

Woman In My Life

You are the sea
              that shelters me
              and welcome when in you
              my soul and body dive ...

              You are my safe harbor,
              when I anchor you
              with my anxieties
              and sadness ...

              You are the 
              comprehensive light
              that focuses my guide
               lines when I perform
              in the saddest and
              dark hours ...

              How lucky i am
              for having you !

Beloved

You are the sea that shelters me
              and welcome when in you
              soul and body dive ...

              You are my safe harbor,
              when I dare you
              with my anxieties
             and sadness ...

              You are the comprehensive light
              that focuses on the paths,
              when I enter
              in the saddest and
              dark hours ...

              How lucky i am
              to have you ...!

Threefold Darkness

Threefold darkness !
A mystery by which creation
Received light that frees mankind
From stronghold of darkness

It started with the son of Amittai
Who needed three dark nights in a fish
Deep in the belly of Ocean
To save a city under siege of darkness

For the man of Tarsus
Three blind nights for a wizard of law
To handle the torch required
To lit shrines of the gentiles
And halt incense from dark altars

On the day of eternal jungle justice
When king of light was the scapegoat
To bear burden of the sinful nature
An eclipse quenched the noon sun
For one-two-three dark hours

Grave received his lifeless battered body
Hell watched for almost three darkness
As equation of destiny was balanced
To fulfill claims of divine justice

Upon his emergence from Hades
The abode of light was opened
This light saints now carry around
Illuminating dark covens and prisons
To set free precious souls
Long held in dungeon.

Premium Member As They Danced Incognito

As They Danced Incognito 

From where I sat that night in 1971,
I could see in the distance south LA,
Lit up like grounded stars in black mud;
As a rude wind brushed up against me,
I saw you wearing navy blue with black shoes.
You were at the Roxy with my best friend.
Making out in the back row with popcorn and ice.
Tears of rage filled the ego ducts for two dark hours.
Then Broten visited, sitting distant under crushed stars,
My young earth, shattered in haphazard fragments,
You flitted like a engorged fly away from me, and us,
Your silent watchings and downward betrayals then,
Killed whatever love-embraces connecting our moving souls,
Our bodies, always lying clenched and breathing in a tangle, your
Milk chocolate cupcakes set before me in the naked candlelight, 
With salty, salivating tongue-lickings bringing you to rise in my arms.
We lay with spent emotions in the dark room with doors closed.
Now we exit the bricks and the mortar to spy on the seven sisters,
As they dance above incognito in the cold firmament of trackless time.
“I wish someday to go to sleep and not wake up in the morning.”

Night To Day


Night time
Dark hours

Owl hoots
Mouse scoots

Dawns might?
Stops night

Morning
Days birth

Lunch time
Breaks hours

Twilight
Mix drinks

Relax
Get slack

Evening
Start dark
Brians Final Footle contest 9-2-2021
1st Place
Form: Footle

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