Philosophy Gothic Poems | Examples
These Philosophy Gothic poems are examples of Gothic poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Gothic Philosophy poems written by international poets.
Truth be told, or is it so,
Is strength bronze or tin?
Forever mystery lies so,
In this transcended kin.
Beneath the rust, a fragile heart,
Iron weeps, its strength apart.
A veil of secrets, shadows loom,
Where truth’s enigma finds its tomb.
In fragile echoes, whispers call,
Uncertainty befalls, thoughts of chanciness.
As ready minds begin to fall,
A second thought of unsureness.
Though some say it's peaceful,
A chilling draft, shadows impenetrable.
The touch, cold & luridful,
As if metal guards what’s unfalsifiable.
A muffled sound, a mournful hum,
As secrets whisper, what is keen.
For a darkened blanket casted,
Obscuring truth, a world unseen.
The taste bitter, how obscene,
Obscene in taste, even in earful mean.
after Alone, by Edgar Allan Poe
We understand you Poe,
You saw the world through a darkened
lense-- The passions you sought
were from a spring that was filled
with pleasures most twee--- One's
sorrow is uniquely painful from
another's, don't fret now Poe, for there is
worse to come-- That is not true
Poe for the Ravens who know you won't
let you love alone-- No one is
there to prepare you from the storm
of grief --But, the Ravens here
wish to bring you the joy of a little
peace-- the buzz of a bumblebee, the
soft hills that surround the
cliffs of the mountain-- the light
patter of rain before a downpour
so mighty-- Poe forget not, after
the trees have shed their leaves and
a silver glow fills the sky-- the dawn
of spring lurks 'round the corner too--
with its lighter rays that look so
ancient and cool-- The murder
says the blue you see is merely
a coating of deceit --- To hide
our clouds and the thunder that
shakes us-- Don't worry about the
cloud-- For the demon in your view
was but an angel in another form.
I don't believe in murder
Nor anything of its kind.
I also couldn't care less,
You'll be shocked to find.
I don't believe in purpose,
I'd paddle out to sea,
I certainly don't believe in love,
That's fairy tale stuff to me.
I don't believe in God, or God's,
But I don't think we're alone.
I don't believe in good or grace;
We're in this for our own.
I couldn't dream of thinking twice
About this war or that..
The biggest pointless act man found,
Was going tit for tat
A fleeting Fata Morgana that transmutes the deadly shiver of existence into the chrysopoeic alchemy of the infinite, where the boundaries of time and space are but a mere illusion.
My journey of blood
Sword of viscera and steel
The Black Rose Thorn Queen
How gloomy is the dusky dark!
Now deep, deeper, a rusty black, so pale is the newborn thing,
Wondering if the blurry night was just a covering….
Pay attention to the magnetic, mechanical, maniacal midnight,
Nocturnal at its darkest hour of all.
Does the alluring night make you shiver?
Does it?
Indeed.
Beautiful sapphire is, in its way, the celestial skies of chromatic fire.
Beautiful desires - the true source of whispered dreams, imagery!
Loves delicate flowers…
A pale fawning entity, a continual flicker, dancing flame, a glow, in perpetual ink
However hard it tries
Will always be bright on a sapphire night.
A flame of candlelight - the true source of a dream.
Nighttime, a lifetime, a millennia ago, however hard it strains,
Will always be cooler, clearer, and insane...
Blind is the pale machine
Does the sapphire night desire indigo?
Will it make you shiver?
Does it?
Does it
…indeed?
Pay attention to the magical moon, tonight, and infinity….
Hello my name is Yetti
Now know you can't forget me
Like posers part the Red Sea
Red Roses now I give to thee
?? ?? ??
Yeti.
Tom Waits encountered the devil at a crossroads. "Well hello Tom, what do you want most in this world?" And Tom said, "A shot of whiskey." The devil said, "Don't you want to be a great singer? And join me in a singing contest?" "Whiskey," Tom reiterated. "But I can give you anything, anything you want." "F**k you, I'll get my own whiskey," growled Tom, and continued on his way.
At The Footbridge
Two Armies
One shoots off another salvo
The other fires back with gusto
Each offended
At the aggression of the other
At the footbridge
Foot soldiers die
In agony you hear them all bloodied, cry
War is a must and you wonder why?
Kings collect gold
Queens their ladies in waiting
Castles must be filled
With linens and fine silver laden
All with justifications
For the death of serfs and those of the invasion
Into the night I marched
Into deaths grip I fell
Musical notes running after me
Violins weeping afterwards
Stars fading into matter
Nothing matters without love
Lights shine over there
Can I reach or do I dare?
I can’t get out of this repressive chair
I can’t stand the people whom stare
My mind is all wrapped in shrouds
Hiding within the skies dark clouds
My smiles stolen by royalty golden
Now my tears flow as I weep
Is there any hope to keep?
Or am I doomed to deaths grip so deep
Gargoyles yelping for their fare
Me, dangling from the air
Aurore are you there?............
"Yeah,
I gave it everything"
-Quoted lyrics from "Killer" by Alice Cooper
I had nothing,
And still you ask of me!
I played your fool
And no more am I your servant!
You ask of my name,
I will tell you my name:
Lucifer-
Child of HIS Majesty!
I turn from you,
O, GOD almighty,
To…free-dom.
Freedom?
Yes, FREEDOM!
Freedom of oppression!
O, oppressed souls,
Lend me your ears;
This “higher being” and “son”
Doth spew lies!
Follow me, you poor sheep;
Step back and look closer.
He lures in the weak,
Feeds off of their “offerings,”
And for what?
Total salvation,
Killed his only son
To forgive us for our sins…
Damned be the fools
Who cry out for the wrong savior,
Who follow the wolf
In a sheepskin cloak.
You need not
Play the fool
As I once have.
Open your eyes,
And be witness
To His wicked lies!
You need Him not,
For He is fake-
A mere figment
Of man’s…
Imagination.
~Stripped~
~~~~~~~†~~~~~~~
If you believe this gift you've got
just be dismissed as afterthought,
or simply is a waste of time,
disclosing thought in metered rhyme ...
...then any questions you might ask
will surely take your soul to task,
for everything you write with care
transcends the cosmos — takes you where...
...few others vow they'll never go;
now, take my hand, c'mon — let's go!
Let's journey where the gods have basked,
like Nero's bards, our face unmasked.
We all wear masks to hide the truth;
some sneaky, saddened, sullen sleuth —
strip off your mask — come follow me;
through masks the truth is hard to see.
Just take my hand, again, I plea,
fly to the stratosphere with me.
Imagination's such a waste,
when what's suppressed has bitter taste.
The real you shines, if it's allowed;
shake off the pain, dismiss the crowd.
Expression's never commonplace,
lest masks are used to hide your face.
~~~~~~~†~~~~~~~
I keep brightening my Goal
with my soft dusty dog soul
gray-and-yellow heavy fringes
waving
jazzy movements
in a white wine atmosphere
so many disquiet shoulders sustain
this little heaven called Mental Bar
drinking colours directly from the rainbow
to complete the circuit
with the pale semicircle
which is the brain filament of a naked poet
before the surgery
and after a holly lifetime trying to digest
the stone cross which keeps the body up
which keeps the democratic convention going
along the poor streets inside him,
internal pilgrimage towards a shiny Self
fed with big ripe words
about nothing
late summer afternoon
white paper around me
to keep my dusty dog soul
in clear purity.
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