Long Blackness Poems

Long Blackness Poems. Below are the most popular long Blackness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blackness poems by poem length and keyword.


Knowing You Knowing Me

We've known each other for  a while now 
I think its fair to say 
I haven't met anyone like you 
not ever, not to this day
  
when our eyes really first met 
something inside me began to stir 
I was unsure what to make of it 
so I shrugged it off without a care 
 
weeks have passed by, our conversations keep flowing 
like raindrops from above, the topics have no warning.  
The more that we explore,  the greater my yearn 
to travel the footprints of thought 
that leave tracks across your mind. 
  
time flies fast, its almost a blur 
we've know each other over a year now 
and you have become a mama.  
I've never seen you so happy 
a miracle from above, I am sure.. 
I love how your eyes are smiling 
This is a picture I adore.

it was at this point, when I looked into your eyes 
that what bothered me before came back to life  
the stirring within came out of the blue 
it was then I realised it was fuelled by you. 
still unsure what it was within 
I just looked up and gave you a grin 
  
Its 2 in the morning,  I should be asleep 
each time I close my eyes, its you I see. 
For a second there is blackness,  and everything is sound 
then from nowhere,  your face is found  
  
My arms reach out, to hold you tight 
to hold you close throughout the night 
but like before,  you were not there 
so this again, I'm hugging air! 
  
Finally,  my brain gives up and sleeps 
but still you find me in my dreams 
but in my dreams your there with me 
so this is now the place to be. 
  
its time to wake up, I feel exhausted 
my brain feels fried, there was no off switch.  
All throughout the night, you and I danced away 
under the moonlight, with the stars on display 
upon cloud tops,  high in the sky 
where angels sit to watch you and I 
  
Sorrow was what it took, for me to realise 
what love was, and how it thrives 
where it starts, how it feels 
how it hurts,  but how it thrills.. 
  
I feel like I could fly, this stuff is better than Red Bull 
I've never been so high, the feeling is astronomical 
and to think the reason why,  I feel so invincible 
Is because I looked into your eyes 
and was touched by your soul.. 

  
I leave it to fate, to decide what will be, 
to see if theres a future for you and me. 
You are one of a kind, you are my friend.  
I've never met anyone like you.. 
I dont think I will again!
Form:


Your World-My World

What is the difference between night and day... between darkness and light... Evil and good... Angel and Demon... How can we live among each other and survive.. hearing about hope.. trust.. honesty... and how can they live with Lust, despair, depression, agony, anger and such heartlessness... 

You speak to me about this word called "Hope"..
Everyone has a chance to create their own lives.. to change the hand they were dealt
That there is something better out there
You just have to remind yourself of all the small happiness that happened to you over the years and it soon becomes greater than the despair..
You claim to be sadness.. to be depression.. 
In reality you just have moments of lowness...
Your world is surrounded with beautiful waving trees
A sunset that lights up the dawn sky
Somehow the ocean looks beautiful to you, the glistening of the sun upon the waves
You see happiness in everything that happens to you, you see something positive in all the things life gave you
But..
What if we do not see the same thing, what if I live in the darkness... 
The deranged half of this world of which you cannot see.. 
What if everything you see, I see in complete blackness..
The sky is grey, the ocean is red... and the aura around my world is chained to a dark future..
How is it that we can live on the same planet.. but see two different views..
I can sense your light.. you can sense the darkness I hold within me.. All I see for you is a horrible ending.. Your hope.. is my dark secret
In my world I see you as the beggar.. the one who tells you good tales.. but can never prove them.. and keep asking for your attention.. they want you to believe them.. but yet you cannot see the sun in bright orange colors because in your world there is no sun .. there is only a moon... 
Your beautiful day for me is like the desecration of a grave...

So I will ask you again...

What is the difference between night and day... between darkness and light... Evil and good... Angel and Demon... How can we live among each other and survive.. hearing about hope.. trust.. honesty... and how can they live with Lust, despair, depression, agony, anger and such heartlessness... ?

Does light.. somehow stabilize.. the darkness... ?
Can a Demon live without lusting for something pure?
How is it that the day can turn into night so quickly as if its not painful.. ?
Form: Lyric

The Escape Route

Down many of the coalmines in Yorkshire , Safety dictated that an alternative means of escape
had to be found just in case anything ever happened to the shafts that raised and lowered miners to their work.
This usually involved keeping a single route open underground to the next nearest colliery .


Old George waiting by the mineshaft 
Spitting his chewing tobacco juice 
Today with his apprentice 
They must survey the mines escape route . 

1000 yards underground  
In darkness as black as pitch 
They reach up to their helmets
Turning on the headlamp switch.

George prodding at the timbers 
That support the roof and sides
His apprentice grows more nervous
With every single stride .

A mile down the escape route 
The roof is seven feet high
They see a little fallen rock
but manage to squeeze by .

The roof is getting lower
George hears the scurrying of mice 
Brought down the mine in bales of hay
When pit ponies and the miners destiny were spliced.

The apprentice is visibly shaking 
but only one more mile to go 
When a piece of falling timber 
Dealt his torch battery a glancing blow.

George could see the boys panic
and as the leader of his team 
He reassured his apprentice
Then they shared the single beam .

Suddenly they hear a crack like thunder
Then the splintering of wood 
George pushes his apprentice 
but a fall of rock stands where George stood.

Young boy on his hands and knee's
Screaming Georges name
More terrified by the second 
When no answers came.

Now in total blackness 
He inhabits the world of the blind 
If he is to help his leader
The boy must use his senses and his mind .

The faintest hint of breezes
He feels on his face 
Air sucked down the mineshaft
Just might be his saving grace 

He crawls along the jagged floor 
Using his sense of touch 
Soon in the distance he hears machinery
A sound he has never loved so much .

He tastes the ever freshening air
Hope inside him grows
Then the tiniest speck of flickering light
His tears overflow. 

Help,  Help,  he's calling 
As the miners come into view
Two men want to hep him to the surface 
Burt he awaits his friends rescue.

Old George didn't make it 
He sacrificed himself to save the boy
Broken hearted the boy had a breakdown 
and had to leave the mines employ.

The boy became a father 
Then a wonderful granddad 
but he never tired of telling the story
of the best friend he ever had.
Form: Narrative

How Can We Not Have This Conversation

How can we not have this conversation
where footprints of the poor vanish
beneath the boots of investors, 
and the river sings only
to those who can afford its luxury? 

In Chobe, the elephants roam free, 
but people walk caged in poverty.
We call it coexistence
when tusks are protected, 
but mothers bury their sons
gored near neglected kraals.
And no one comes
unless it's a game drive
and the victim is not black.

How can we not speak
when the lion's roar is louder
than a widow's cry for compensation? 
When leopards eat goats
and ministries write reports not cheques? 

Let's talk about the five-star smiles
that greet foreign tongues
while the Batswana mop floors, serve beer, and sleep on concrete after ten-hour shifts.
Let's talk about uniforms and pay slips
that smell like servitude, 
contracts folded into silence
in offices lined with antelope heads.

And let's speak of the racism
how a Black woman was shot by a white woman
who said, "I thought it was a monkey."
As if her body was a silhouette of threat.
As if Blackness is always a blur
on the edge of someone else's comfort.
The river bore witness, but the law shrugged, 
and headlines softened the bullet.

Let's talk of fishermen
banished from their birthright, 
told their canoes spoil the view, 
that their laughter scares the tourists, 
that their presence is pollution.
Let's speak of lodge owners
who toss insults like breadcrumbs
to those who clean their sheets
lazy, slow, replaceable.
No chains, but contracts.
No slurs, just smiles
with knives beneath them.

We cannot be quiet
when the sun sets
behind lodges built on lies, 
and the river is fenced
not for safety, but exclusion.

How can we not speak
of the politics of permits, 
where land is leased
like livestock, 
and council seats are auctioned
to the highest foreign bidder? 
Corruption blooms like water hyacinth, 
choking life from the roots
of communal trust.

The sand knows.
The baobabs know.
Even the crocodiles know
how long we've swallowed
our own tongues
to protect the myth of peace.

So let us talk.
Let us gather in the heat
of midday truth, 
where no luxury air-con hums.
Let us speak until the sky listens, 
until justice stalks this land
as fiercely as the wild.

Because silence, here, 
is complicity.
And we have been quiet
for far too long.
Form:

I Can'T Name It

Don't worry about her they said
Her bark is worse than her bite
But what they didn't know
Is that she used her claws to fight

Suddenly she changed before their eyes
The abusers stopped and stared
She had finally had enough
She would make them hurt and scared

She felt the anger boil and rise
Her soul turned black as night
She knew she would enjoy the chase
As the abusers all took flight

She would make them see
The hate through her own eyes
Make her the one they fear
With torment like their lies

She chased them through the town
Down alleyways and lanes
Chasing them towards the sewers
The water tanks and drains

She would show them helpless
Show them bullied and abused
She would show that people
Are not play things to be used

They sought the safety of the tunnels
But little did they know
That she would drive them forward
To the place she used to go

The black and swirling water
Looked like a giant eye
"Please make your last requests,
Its time to say goodbye"

She crouched down low beside them
In a predatory stance
"You could apologise you know,
I'll give you one last chance"

One girl dropped down on bended knees
Sobbed and begged for life
She felt her anger subside a little
Took her had off the hunting knife

The second girl just stared below
At the swirling water deep
And floods of regret and sorrow
Made her collapse and start to weep

The last and final girl
Decided to stand her ground
They faced each other solidly
Neither made a sound

The girl extended her hand
Towards the girl that she despised
And saw her breathing calm a little
The blackness leave her eyes

The girl took one step forward
Her fingers reaching out
Not knowing how this was to end
Or what it was about

Her fingers pushed through anger
Through layers of hate and lies
The nights of pain and anguish
The unheard and unloved cries

Her fingers touched the skin
So old and thin to touch
She felt the pain and sorrow
And finally knew how much

She stepped into the body
Crouched upon the floor
And felt the ice that froze her
Right to the very core

Together they moved to stand up
To approach the other two
This was when it had to end
The point that they all knew

Now the soul was shattered
In four distinctive parts
But they must learn to work together
For they don't have separate hearts.
Form:


Premium Member The Unborn Dreams of a Fertilization 1942 a Long Journey a Long Lived Nightmare Part 3

Life on the edge would certainly become a novel,
if I included all the chapters of my life’s journey
from that of an old soul, from pure consciousness
to egg and sperm colliding, to embryo, to fetus,
to that of a baby, a child, youth, a teenager,
a young adult, a middle aged man, this old man
who has walked the walk of the living and the dead
with ghostly shadows floating in night time forests
blanketed by sheets of blackness, permeated with flakes,
specks of light from distant planets, long lost stars,
forgotten lives, as the reflective moon, on high,
tries to shed light upon the nightly shadows,
brighten the edges of all the black clouds
that fill all the empty spaces above the tree tops.

Life on the edge – I have been tripping – have gotten up,
have fallen from grace, yet stands up to face adversity,
have been trapped, yet set myself free, been lost
yet have found my way back to myself.

Life on the edge – time reveals all, all the efforts,
all the accomplishments, all the failures, the defeats,
and all the losses become weightless in the light,
of an old man who sits alone, on his own locked up
in the cage of his own design, his own making
as nightmares continue to haunt - to the end of his journey.

Life on the edge – has been sharp, dull, keen without tears,
in spite of all that life, fate, karma, choice have lain upon
the experiences this old soul has suffered, endured, enjoyed
and yet the dreams of this child – before and after he became –
still linger on in the fading embers of his life’s journey
even if they are but ashes blown by cold cruel winds
putting out the raging fires that once lit up the skies
and wormed the heaven and the hearts of a few mortal women.

Life on the edge – of this plane, this dimension, this universe –
can it really be as we see it ?, is it karma ?, is it fate ?, is it design ?
Does history repeat itself ?, does it come back to haunt us ?,
in another time, in another place, in a different space.

Life on the edge – next time around – will be a prayer
to never, ever have  to live on the edge again,
to know no more emotional pain, no poverty of heart, soul,
the stupidity and thoughtlessness of those in control,
those in the know, of the nature of this old man
who has shown – specks, flakes of light, light that has
burned so bright, has flickered, has long since taken flight.

B. J. “A” 2
March 10th 2004

Perverse Imp

Estranged to a lonely room
Littered with trash and splattered gloom
Fettered and sentenced to early doom
Distressed and distraught to a sordid mood
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

To make sure the windows latched
To make sure the door to match
Hope to God to soon to catch
Before settling to an unworldly nap
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

Late night battered darkness broken
Metallic taste in my mouth beholden
Bathroom rush with my mouth open
Rinse the mouth and nose thus salted
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night


I never see the imp come or go
Only disturbance in light or dark shadow
Low to the floor  slither  and flow
Dash under the bed, I don’t really know
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

Maybe it is up on the ledge
Or under the bed or behind the case
Or cowering in a corner or place
Peeking out  from a closet embrace
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

In my dreams I see a sordid face
Withered and shriveled and contorted with hate
Laronian imp with purpose of fate
In my mouth it squirts the paste
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

Again I wake and bolt for the sink
From the corner of my eye I see the imp
He disappears in wink or a blink
Invisible to the  man with a limp
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night


Pint sized demon un happily  born
Raised to hurt and kill with poison
Never seen in a man with reason
Punished in a life of  torture and scorn
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

In the darkness I see a leap
Up to the ledge an amazing  feat 
For a tiny thing at most two feet
Hiding until I fall asleep
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

Needles inserted into my feet
Slow  painful  sore legs they do  retreat
Hope to lord my soul to keep
Late at night in darkness deep
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

In the blackness I hear a click
Grab a sword and after it
Under the bed in a squealing fit
Damaged with a warbling tweet
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

Should I slowly pass away
Hopefully my children remember me
Horrible taste with it at bay
Awakening to a brand new day
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

Should I survive to tell a story
Of terror, pain and faith and glory
Unbelievable unreasonable stodgy and gory
Peering in as I swoon with  sedated foray
Creeps and crawls and stalks at night

The Askance Chapter 1 Part 4

Courage

Beyond the still of the night
The unsettling air remains a breath of calm
From eyes enclose, welcoming the blinded sight
What more be life shall offer to come?

Time always travel unseen
Days simply vanishes away
Voices chanting, did I remember my illusive dream?
Or is my life a weightless feather, ready to sway?

No visions to visualize still
Dreams engifted perhaps, bears certain to be forgotten
Though much too close, much too surreal
I shall believe not to the extent to fathom

And I awaited for the night to pass
The deepest of isolation I can only surrender to
Out of love, out of loneliness I’m to outcast
This moment to miss her and to remain still a fool

Studying the figure in the mirror
I’m no doubt torn with an unfounded courage I lack
Should I be in riddance of this endeavor?
Must one recover and practice no longer the false pretentious act

Unnaturally, silence seems to whisper about
The room is more sinister and darker even
There is a soft chanting yet becomingly loud
And fear is all, accompanying this moment’s instant

{Blackness paints what once was before
I could see nothing yet blinded not to all
Those hungry eyes, bloodshot and dancing playfully
Them who chant the verses, strange but beautifully
They were the voices of children who sang among
Till almost deathening when came was then a complete calm
It was a mere moment, yet a moment was enough
Green and haunting, a pair of poison iris onto me he cast

And he spoke his voice I can only vividly remember
It was the voice from my dream that had kept me in bewilderment wonder
Just before I might strain to see the mystery beyond
The enigmatic encounter simply chooses to diminish along}

With the blacken fog cleared
I stand once more within my room
Entranced and crucified by fear
Am I ever to obtain tranquility all too soon?

It can only feel too evil
It wasn’t how tranquility can venture deep
Was it a calling perhaps from a befallen angel?
An angel to only the devil might seek

Disturbing and much too unbecoming
When struck me further was that the language I understand
Not only was it not just simply a dream
For what it said from its tongue, I knew what it meant

“Fear is a fire…
to temper courage and resolve
Be it desire
to quench the thirst for one’s unfounded lost”
………………………………………….
© Joel Lee  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Downward Spiral

On the edge,
Leaning towards the deep end;
The dark waters with their mystery...
Seem to beckon you and your misery,
Talking like its cold embrace will warm you,
It's asking for your life and to guide you.

Leaning forward into the abyss
The wind whipping past your ears seem to hiss
As you fly and you soar
For time that makes you wish you had more
Though the feeling cannot last,
If you keep thinking of what people said in the past.

The water boils from your unleashed rage
Only stirring the whirlwind of pain and hate
You claw at the blackness surrounding you.
This tormenting fury you cannot bear
You wish to scream in your anger, 
Yet your voice seems to just whimper
Drowned without air...
Then, you are over come with despair.

The lack of life in this moment makes you weep,
All you want to do is sleep,
But then you think.
What about the ones I will make weep?
Maybe it's not all that it seems,
Maybe someone is waiting just for me?
To wake them from their dreams
The nightmare that they cannot break free 
The one they are waiting in just for me?

You want it all to stop
You really want to quit
But you know there's person waiting for a hero
And this hero is you.

You must get out.
Out of this dream
To wake the one beckoning for you.

Say sorry to the black water
Flail in its grip,
Try to escape its unholy embrace.

Your breath escapes from your lungs
And your mind screams in pain.
But then the darkness evaporates.
Leaving you to start anew 
Like a phoenix rising from its own dark ashes.

Look at the world that you thought you knew.
Awake and breathe.
Arise from your room
With A new view on life.

Look in the mirror,
See what you want to be,
The glass then shatters
Setting you free.

Change the world, 
And all that it has hurt.
Do not let the one waiting for you down
Find him or her and turn their life around.

You won't let this world drown 
You won't let others follow their spiral to the ground
Because you've already been to the bottom
You know what it's like to hit the ground,
Then lose all you have had...
But now it's your chance to turn it all around
Carry them up that spiral with not a look down!
Help them rebuild their world again
And stay with them until the end
Now no one will fear the spiral again
Because they will always have a friend.

We Were Enjoying a Stroll In Our Neighborhood Just Past Dark

We were taking our nightly walk in suburbia.
Every evening after dark, the same routine-
 
Well, that night we were in for a surprise
Every light in the neighborhood went out!
Right then, I slipped off of the sidewalk.
Excruciating pain radiated from my ankle.
 
Even though I could see nothing, I reached.
Never had I felt so helpless, in my life.
Just when I was about to lose my balance again, I felt his hand.
Obviously, he saw that I needed help, I, screaming loudly.
Yet, again he calmed me, pulled me close, and held me.
I knew we had to look at my leg.
Not that it was broken, but probably sprained.
Getting home seemed like it would be impossible, ominous.
 
Almost apocalyptic!

Strongly, he shouted, “Come on, we’ll make it if I have to drag you.”
To my surprise, I felt his big hairy hands grab me.
Right as I was about to sink to the ground again,
Over his shoulders I was tossed!
Like a sack of potatoes, I hung there…not walking.
Laughing inside because I knew I was safe with him,
 
I clung on for dear life!
Not knowing what was next, and scared.

Ominous thoughts began to flood my imagination.
U. F. O. s appeared in my mind’s eye…abduction!
Reality turned fuzzy.
 
Nuclear invasions by aliens seemed factual. 
Explosions boomed all around.
I Screamed, not with pain, but with terror.
Gasping, I cried, “Get me out of here! “ 
“Hurry, please!”
Blackness everywhere and he looked at me weird.
Oh, how I wished for a flicker of light.
Raw fear was overpowering reason.
He, on the other hand, seemed to brave it well.
Often, in the past, he had shown courage, too.
Oblivious to the real world, I pounded his back.
Delighted to be safe, although half upside down!

Just then, he started hysterical laughing.
Usually, he was calm in every situation.
So, I wondered what was going on.
Terrible thoughts intruded; even shadows frightened me.
 
Practically frozen with fear, I could hardly breathe.
Afraid my heartbeat would be heard.
Sane, but wondering if I were crazy.
Trying to talk, but my voice kept cracking.	
 	
“Desperately,” I shouted, “Look up in the sky!  
Aliens are coming to get us.  We are going to die!  
Reassuring me, he said, "You are going to be all right.
Keeping hope, he took me down the dark streets to the hospital!

©February 18, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Form: Acrostic

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