Forboding Poems | Examples

Self-Like Precision

Raven on my shoulder, emitting faint smolder,
swirling, formed a vision with self-like precision.

In Silent Screams

On forboding...


The rocky cliffs 
Stark against midnight 
Somber and austere.

Darkness sharp cold drifts 
In hollow halls 
In empty rooms with broken windows!

Deep underground...
In the deepest seams of the earth
Lurk little beasts slumber & run.

An unknown something dreams
Black cats, slink, and cry...
Into the deep pale moonlight! 

Of the blackest midnight...
Things drift along in the rain-slick street.
Jack-o’-lanterns flicker in silent screams!

            As hell walks, 
                   I...
                       In the painted orange light
                                                     Foreboding!

The Viola

Stringed strained vibrations
 alto hauntings of the heart
 playing strumpet along the inner ear
 responsive fingering that cries aloud;
intensified bravado rhythms
that reverberate the shoulders, chin and arm
 sensuous, distinctive obligatos
 resonant timbre both sensual and veiled austerity
 weeping muted strings,
calling out remote interludes
wafting on the darkened winds
 forboding escape bidding the heart
 to forget its muffled lament
and play on.

Tower

Standing atop the tower of my solitude,
I look down,
seeing the events of my life unfold,
manifested as many people milling on the street.

I stay in this tower to gain a new perspective,
yet, 
of late,
I feel that my perspective could be lost, 
drowned in the metaphysics of looking down from lofty spiritual heights,
to see what I may do to end these dark and forboding nights.

These nights are filled to the brim with forlorn thoughts,
running through the ifs and whats of the every day,
yet I know that at this time,
I must preside in my tower for protection,
descending to the ground floor from time to time,
to remain grounded in what I explore.

When I am at the ground floor of my towering sanctuary,
I can look up to see the shape of what I have constructed for myself,
my refuge, 
my towering sanctum from all trials and tribulations, 
and I can look at street level at all the milling people that represent my thoughts,
getting a clearer perspective of what it is I think from day to day.


Copyright © 2021 Robert Matejko

Skeletal Branches

Autumn trees stand forboding 
With their skeletal branches, 
Silhouettes in pale moonlight, 
Like witches fingers.


Written 1st October 2020.

For Writing Challenge - Dodoitsu  - poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Constance La France.

Funeral

The heavy rain was unforgiving with an air of forboding on this grey and miserable November day. 
At the cemetery entrance the chapel bell tolled ten times to herald the arrival of the hearse. 
On the bare trees and perched on their skeletal branches were three black ravens watching. 
The black clad mourners and the six pallbearers carrying the ornate casket now made their way to the freshly dug open grave.

Written on 18th February 2020


After googling poe realised the lines were too long 
so not for contest.

Piercing Heavy Clouds

My skies darken a forboding grey 
When shadows overtake my day

A strong breeze carries dark gloom
To give the feeling of a pending doom

Lightning zig zags throughout the sky
Piercing heavy clouds so they can cry



Date written:9/1/2019
Writing Challenge 4, August 2019 - Six Lines
Sponsor, Dear Heart- Wiishkobi Ode


5th place

South Winds

rustling maples
mysterious forboding -
harbingers of wind

Strange Dreams

I dreamed once of a head of gold
that vastly filled the sky,
and there beneath, alone and cold,
the lonely figure I.

I dreamed once of a suffering sheep
for which all help was vain,
which neither brother death nor sleep
could rescue from its pain.

I dreamed once of a house forlorn
whose name I dare not say.
Those entering there of mother born
had seen the light of day.

In a Water Schism of Things Not Finished

Maybe it's with all signs Astro that their true ology elements precede us in our poor socio-crafted endless envies, that benignly beholds and molds us, encrusting our deep attention to non-nominal directed people preferentials--- for me, a March fish out of water, that traverses a lonley land of mindmeld ill consequated potentials, is more than doubt/dutiful in a weary design of guilded Awareness anarchies of emotide reversals of social fortune enslaved for an all quiet intent.
In all I am to not drown drawn in its cool wet incapassivtiy and away from its destitute, destructive denial and watery dismiss my essence
of all those things living aimless, seemingly without a concrete pattern, denying who they are in the Dairy Queen of things embolden. 
Question?
It's lengthy, flawess, fluid intent to a cold calm countenance 
and protective H2o prowess keeps it an
easy, forboding ill intact invasive; then shapes itself to all aimable vernaculars, 
copious anomalies, traits, tolerences and tailored toils.

Liquid From Above

Looking above seeing these dark clouds
giving a forboding negative look
makes you think something about to come
might even install a brand new brook

Everyday we look for the forecast
to see what weather we're about to get
whether it be sun snow or clouds
our smiles departs when it says wet

That liquid drops from the sky
it's wet damp cold and runny
so miserable it effects so negative
why can't it just be sunny?

But this is what does happen
when cloud bursts sending rain
especially if it's a really heavy shower
goes right through you giving a stain

Rain has it's good points though
it's needed for crops to grow
think of food we wouldn't have
also makes the gardens a great show

Haunted House By the Hill

In that haunted house by the hill 
where nobody now dares to dwell 
abides an spirit of such evil 
so great for you or me to get near 

So long ago in the days of yore 
a well-to-do family lived there 
their soul fed it with so much sin 
and debauchery they never did heed 

So they partied and made merry til' the end 
and unspeakable orgies there took place 
things that no decent soul would comtemplate 
in secrecy they smeared the town with all their filth 

But as everything must come to end be either good or bad 
so a very dark and forboding night they all went too far 
for in their debauchery and cruel games 
a deadly and final price did all of them have to pay 

Since then that night in this house by the hill 
horrible screams mixed with sobbings can be heard 
misterious noises that no one can ever explain 
and your blood will chill in your veins if you
ever dare to visit the haunted house by the hill.


Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014


October,31,2014

Quiet Word

Quiet word
I am the quiet word  you  hear ,
That  warns  you when, trouble is near,
The feeling you get, going out the door, 
Did you turn off the power, are you surely, sure,

The voice that says,
 “I know it’s him.”
Know his hide in a whip,
 that’s old Slim.

The phone it rings, yes that is mum,
And soon she is, a talking, some,
You thought of her, she thought of you,
Connection, called her into view.

You saw a friend, who is sick today,
Got the feeling, he’d go away,
Now in the paper, there you read,
He died today, you wish “God speed.”

Forboding comes you know the score ,
Before it happens , and for sure ,
Not  wanting to know it more,
The feeling it’s creating. 

30-july-11

 WHO AM I? 	Enter Contest 
Sponsored by: Paula Swanson

The "weather"

Tornado alley is a place to visit if you must
go there with conscious caution
look out for nails of rust

The alley's fraught with winds that fiercly circle with no warning
Look left and right.  Look out, that's right!
Who know's what'll be left in the morning

This place is quite forboding
Mother nature does her scorning

It's quite clear to me; staying clear is the key to surviving when it is pouring!

Unnatural

Don't pity me in the mingle
of a sunshine smeared midnight
where my green-eyed egos 
debate the potency 
of my virtues and vices.

In the contrasting hue 
between mute, fuzzy familars 
and sharp, fural forboding

my sanity is safe
from assuming unnatural extremes.

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