Dark Iambic Pentameter Poems | Examples
These Dark Iambic Pentameter poems are examples of Iambic Pentameter poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Iambic Pentameter Dark poems written by international poets.
Send forth your waking sun to sway this slumber
I beg a breeze to bargain in my favor
My chains of memories shall break with morning
Please pull me from the precipice of peril
Or I might fall while Dawn is slowly rising
"Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly.
They take their time and wander on this
their only chance to soar.”
_by Delia Owens
Like golden leaves, we live our Autumn days-
cling to the limbs and branches of our life.
Enjoying still, the end of Summer's blaze
while living in the bliss of all that's rife.
When comes the time for Autumn's final day;
release, we must- accept next Winter's stage.
Before we fall, we fly and dance away
to frolic in life's air, deterring age.
We fly to places never seen before
and land on surfaces protected well-
then sore again- discover and explore.
As winds uplift- our fears of Winter, quell.
Yet, Winter brings a beauty all its own-
The time to glisten in fresh snow delight.
When we, as leaves, no longer can be blown-
rebirth in Spring will end dark Winter's night.
Sending Love to My Papa
Underneath his multiple dark layers,
He was desperately seeking the light.
Wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing his betrayers,
Kinsman who disregarded his cruel plight.
Memories of guilt, loneliness, and shame,
Ruined and fragmented his tortured soul.
Years of misdeeds and their utter disdain,
He spiraled down an abysmal hellhole.
Tragic mother’s attempt at suicide.
Philandering father bedding hussies.
Abandoned precious children mortified.
Devastating hearts of blameless babies.
Ignored was the beauty of innocence,
Unearthed by kind love and strong resilience.
I often think about Earth's oceans- deep
and taking up three-quarters of its size.
Our continents are islands in the sweep
of water worlds- alive beneath our skies.
Great depths of liquid mystery are they;
home of the largest sea life we have seen,
like whales- or giant squid that hide- away
in deep, dark voids below the surface scene.
Some life within our oceans do defy
the rules of nature that apply on land;
all shapes and sizes- lights that glorify
with bioluminescence- colors grand.
So many unsolved secrets lie within
the darkest depths of this aquatic realm.
Like cosmic space- our oceans are akin
in holding mysteries that overwhelm.
A universe its own, our oceans share
enigmas of strange life formed long ago.
Of many species, surely we're aware;
yet, others far from view, dwell deep below.
September 23, 2021
~1st Place~
Contest: "O" Contest, New Poems
Sponsor: Constance La France
Judged: 09/24/2021
ado the realms that I have plunged with phrase
they have no shape - no bound'ries or expanse
some wend in heaven's dreams or hell's malaise
thoughts sown a demon's kiss or angel's dance ...
such myst'ries there are born from matter, gray
those maelstroms wend the mind's complexities
what seems dark and chaotic through its sway
works fierce to find the beauty each eye sees ...
while wordsmiths tend to stretch upon the rack
of flow'ry phrase, for sake of bloom and breaths
there's far more dire concern with candor's lack
than all the horror wrought ten thousand deaths ...
please don't misunderstand these words of mine
true eloquence is birthed through grain OR chaff
with thoughts that bare the soul in grand design
and swell dear hearts that break on their behalf ...
pray, deign to think me common, though I was
dear love's sweet fool, a million times too much
and though I'd trade my loves for verse's cause
the dearest poem can't trump ... a woman's touch.
United States With Golden Gates
When we saw the United States,
Were greeted by golden gates;
Best place where we want to be;
God does abide in our society.
Truth to each other everyone tells;
Could hear clanging freedom bells;
Independence they all did declare;
While Jesus with us is always fair.
(Fairest Lord Jesus)
God many good things did grant;
Wide wheat fields started to plant;
Milk was made from many cows;
Peace on earth He always allows.
Prayed for people and pandemic;
Those who died or are still sick;
Saw morning sun starting to break;
Each soul to heaven God did take.
Did grow dark after sun had set;
We have hope while fools will fret;
Pure and perfect us God had made;
Past soon into serenity shall fade.
Jim Horn
Whose woods these are, I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it *****
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
There's nothing we can do, the doctor said!
It was December, nineteen-seventy.
At once, those words exploded in my head
and pierced my heart- which broke in agony.
How could this be- she's much too young to die
at fifty-four, and I, just thirty-two?
Convulsed in tears, I begged the question, why-
please, doctor, tell me, please- this is not true!
To lymph nodes, bones- the killer-cancer crept-
too late for surgery or chemo now.
The doctor's sad, dark eyes said, please accept
this news I give- which we can't disavow.
She passed away late summer, the next year;
those long nine months- such painful reveries.
Though, forty-nine years now- I still hold dear
my loved, missed Mom- in dusty memories.
July 31, 2020
Contest: Dusty Old Memories
Sponsor: Constance La France
He came to her in the still of the night
she wondered and thought if she looked a fright
One look in his eyes no word was said
should I be afraid and run fast instead
She thought she has seen passion but saw right
behind him a hidden machete bright
With not a moment to spare she jumped through
the window faster than bullets outgrew
He came to her in the still of the night
that night so long ago she ran faster
than a speeding bullet, she made things right
He was caught next day, while he stalked Hector
A cop dressed like a woman quite bright, bright
He came to her in the still of the night.
04/01/2020
Take away lusts dark sleep of shallow dust.
Me, to emerge-crowned, both righteous and just.
Take the poison from my hollow likeness.
Away, this venom that bleeds to mine own.
Lusts serpents have bitten at my carcass.
Dark penetrations wallow in this crown.
Sleep is my only place of cares rally.
Of my excuses and weakness and hordes.
Shallow is my grasp on a better hold.
Dust is now a tool I must take-in-ward.
I am stained of my own accord, Lord.
May you gain me entrance to thy kingdom.
Emerge me from prison to thy splendour come.
Crowned within your divine place of refuge.
Righteous the one whos Fathers will is done.
In thy name you take away pains deluge.
Justice thine favor, your anger made gone.
The Attic
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
in this old attic of dear grandma's home.
So dark, a lighted candle is a must;
here in this place, I feel so all alone.
I come across sweet Grandma's wedding gown
inside a wooden trunk, with photos too.
They look so young...I feel a tear roll down
to see the happiness that they once knew.
The war years seemed like only yesterday
to Gramps, who left this earth three years ago.
And here I find his medals on display...
the combat gear he wore is stacked below.
And now they are together...Grandma passed
five days ago...was buried near their park.
Now I, my precious memories, hold fast...
the candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark.
Sandra M. Haight
~4th Place~
Contest: One Nine and Sixteen
Sponsor: Viv Wigley
Judged: 09/02/2018
Rules: Write a sixteen line poem, using the three lines below.
Line 1 'Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust'
Line 9 'The war years seemed like only yesterday'
Line 16 'The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark'
FETUS
She wasn't swayed from how she set her mind,
but in a way, her heart was of a kind
that loved sweet life when life was understood,
but when it failed, she gave up all she could,
and what was left was nothing left to find.
Her emptiness gave meaning to alone,
as life slipped out from all it's ever known
to be disposed of by a rubber glove;
the beating heart that's never proned to love,
into the trash, where it can die alone.
When all is done, she'll show it in her eyes,
of mother-hood that she can't realize,
and in the dark, her crying bloody tears
will eat away at what she is, for years,
and what she is--is death that never dies.
There's something still inside of her,
she feels it every day
and every night she cries for it
but it won't go away.
© vee bdosa
He creeps in like a thief unseen when dark
and steals the soul when fast asleep or sad,
His time can't be measured by heart or eyes,
Governs the day and night alone with fear,
Both rich and poor are scared of losing heads,
His visit brings a lot of pains to men,
Which sticks to hearts and souls like sadness glue,
His face glitters like morning sun to lure
the day from light to darkness through his hands,
His hands of justice spread across the world.
Beware of fear!,beware of sudden kill!!,
No friend, no foe ,he sings and waits for time.
10-30-2017
So brittle is our finite life's short stretch.
Demurely, we spend out our early years.
Immutable at first, we're glad to sketch
each interlude of life without deep fears.
Our time seems limitless to spend away;
end of each night presents a brand new day.
As years fly by, so quickly turns each page.
Though tenuous, we come to alter views
that soon become formidable with age.
Bereft, we read friends' passings in our news.
Tho, thankful, that for now, we're freely spared,
we live in death's dark shadow, stay prepared.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: Strand Choice 4
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 01/27/2020
~2nd Place~
Contest: Eight Word Challenge-5
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Judged: 11/03/2017
Required words used in order of appearance:
brittle demurely immutable sketch
interlude tenuous formidable bereft
THE MOUNTS OF MADAMOISELLE L'VAMPYRE
She smiles among the dead she's come to know
her holy grail, beneath Champs Elysees,
acknowledging no one can come or go
without her word, they never find their way.
All catacombs still dark, she waits alone,
lest one should count the dead--none having breath
they're locked in grips of wall of solid stone,
but loss is her's, not knowing, what is death.
She loves the dark, and lives to make her bite
into your artery, where life it stays,
she cares not anything, not day or night,
for jugular, 'tis but poetic phrase.
Her steeds and mounts are always bred to go
There in her Mews, where death they never know.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet