Long Dark metaphor Poems
Long Dark metaphor Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark metaphor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark metaphor poems by poem length and keyword.
A morning came to an evening
With jasmine in its smile
With robins in the tree
The evening rose rejoiced
Petals were wet in joy
It hugged the singing leaves
Music unplugged it weaved
Taking a blue ball point pen
Scarlet poetry it wrote
The morning recited the poem
Birds were chirping in trees outside
They stopped and looked with big eyes
How a little morning
Blended with the old evening in delight
Lighting hundred candles in the room
The evening knows it will linger
In the images the morning will raise
In his cerebral canvas
In course of his dealing with
Shadows and sunshine
I woke up, the dream was better then the world. The dream was just a nightmare. But the world really is a dark clown circus. A punchline in an unfunny joke. People say they want love but won't give up their own animosity.
One minute they're fighting, then another minute, and another. They're always fighting. They act like clowns hoping other people will laugh alongside them. But what they did wasn't funny. People have died and they still think it's a joke.
Some of the clowns think the most important part of the show is the blue ring, some think it's the red ring. But when they're both on fire only the tiger gets burned.
The clowns will always try show you an elephant in the room so you don't notice the tiger lives in a cage, or that it gets burned no matter which hoop it was forced through.
I want to leave the circus, but the clowns aren't having it. They push me back into a seat and continue with their jokes that really aren't funny. They tell me nobody can fill the big shoes. The shoes of a leader. Something about the lesser of two evils.
But I don't believe them. They're all twisting and shaping their own balloon animals thinking it's entertaining. Blowing them up, bigger and bigger, then someone gets popped. Half of them laugh and the other half cry. Over and over again.
I'm sick of this show. There's no such thing as a lesser evil. People just choose complicity when they get what they want, and the show goes on. I told you the punchline wasn't funny, and why I preferred the nightmare. Atleast in my dreams tomorrow might be different.
I hear there's a new show in town but no one is going. It's not a circus at all. Just a lone daredevil trying out altruism. There's no job for a clown, that's why they keep us at the circus instead. Keep us staring at the elephants, and hoping the tiger will be forced through the propper ring. Nobody cares about the tiger, so long as their paycheck arrives on time. The show is only full because it's full of sell outs. I can't believe so many people still think it's funny.
A poisoned mind..
Venom poured and trickled through..
Wounded by rituals thrust upon me.
Intoxication of your madness..
Betrayed effortlessly..
A deceitful cunning environment..
Contagious disease of insanity..
Lies along with false pretenses..
As you claim an undying love
For you use love in the name of fear..
Usage of fear mongering a constant routine
A predator you are..
Stalking on it's prey..
I am your prey
Not your undying love..
A venomous snake spreads toxins..
Underhandedly..
You swam under water..
I swam above water..
Above and beyond..
You had given me the kiss of death..
I had turned away..
Whole heartedly..
As I breathe the breath of life..
The breath of life I am..
I've been to dark places
way off in the weeds
where many a devil
does devilish deeds
I spent so much time there
familiar it grew
in search of its secrets
known only by few
And what I discovered
and what it revealed
had come with the price
of my soul to yield
And thusly surrendered
the darkness received
while leaving me empty
and lonely and grieved
It vied for attention
since I was a child
by implanting thoughts
that were utterly wild
Such thoughts that no children
should ever have known
lest forces unseen
had purposely sown
The darkness grows darker
the deeper you go
and far more alluring
it's wonders to show
Any issues encountered
are handled within
by the blackest of means
with a chuckle and grin
I've been to dark places
I know where they are
Just off the main highway
and not very far
The people encountered
within that domain
whose twilight existence
is deathly profane
They beat on the living
but they can't beat the dead
who no longer suffer
for their daily bread
For the dead have no trouble
they create no more spark
and they certainly aren't
afraid of the dark
© Mike Wise
3-19-26
I’ve never been where they’ve been,
chasing the mirage in the desert storm.
I look into their entranced eyes,
see their vision transfixed on illusion,
the shroud of ruse spreads on the sneaky people.
The gleam of oasis out of their sight,
they lie on wasteland like dry shadow of trees
that have forgotten they were once green,
but I know they’ve lost their roots,
desiccated they've turned into wooden people.
Layer on layer of designed deception
morphs into misleading molds of crafted mask,
changing into chameleon skin on their faces.
Behind the smoke-screen I can’t see through
the veil created by the insecure people,
The light of reality doesn’t penetrate,
so they make their own darkened world,
don’t perceive when they turn into antiques,
but I know because for a long time now
I've walked in the museum of the masked people.
They build castles in the air within deep valleys,
no window of their mind opens on sparkling sky.
The sun rays don’t light up their bleak isolation,
their desolate souls remain obscure in the dark,
for the spent sun starts to set for the dismal people.
For them the harvest moon doesn’t ever rise,
they become gloomy splinters of the starless night,
not knowing why their dreams break in dark abyss,
but I know why no rainbow enters their heart,
for they’ve turned into opaque people.
Skipping heartbeats in the air
With the warm sun in your voice
In the cozy tipsy room
The pen is restless
Pink desires of crimson fruits
Have gone to the dense woodland
To drink wine from the moon cup
The box is greedy
Ice on pulsating sweet heat
Flames on slice of valentine
Passionate warmth on your palm
Restless painting brush
A night for crazy casket
A dark time for equine rhythm
Valentine taps on the cheek
It’s time to wake up
We all have lyrical pens
In our pink chest bouncing hues
Rich or poor, flames in impulse
To wake up and sleep
Champagne in the stars of night
Wind calling to cross the line
Tonight is for thine and mine
Valentine freedom
__________________________________________
15/01/2017 :
"The Dodoitsu is a fixed folk song form of Japanese origin and is often about love or humor. It has 26 syllables made of of four lines of 7, 7, 7, 5 syllables respec-tively. It is unrhymed and non-metrical.”-PoetrySoup
The demon spawns temptation in the minds of mortal men
Exposed is their dark desires, lifted from the pits of hell
Evil breeds in the fiery depths of Satan’s beastly lair
Seeds planted to grow in shadowed corners of a heart
Abysmal minds of the frail are openly inclined to accept
blasphemous words angrily spit from irreverent lips
His rancid breath lights a wick that bursts into flame;
a dastardly exploit, a wicked game orchestrated by Bael,
infernal king with power to devour the weak, the frail
The fallen one leaches on mankind’s thirst for lust
Inside a mind he creeps, contorting visions in dreams
A soulless corpse lies where a man reasonably slumbered
encumbered by vile creatures at the Devil's command
Taken by Satan's hand, a life fuels death’s appetite
His Craft forged in the hotbeds of his dwelling place
A two-faced fiend, slayer of men, father of the lie
Skillfully he plies his trade with false promises he's made
His dirty deeds spring from need and jealous greed
No sleep comes to the one trapped in eternal torment
Screams are cries of fear the devil craves to hear
He accepts no alibis; no second chance does he give
There's no escape from the clutch of his sharpened claws
He'll hold you eternally, without resurrection from the grave
Darkness falls from his shadow, across every land
Scoring souls of modern man from depths of their despair.
He seeks the lost and wicked who'll do his sinful bidding.
Fair warning: be mindful when weary and in need of rest
for the Dark One is a bird catcher, waiting to pounce
and capture those he knows he can lead astray
*Edited by Lin*
deck is stacked with black cats
hungry and forlorn
pressing in
bolts of thunder -
blinded with cacophonies
the ace of spades -
fear, bad luck, hatred, war
worry lines, frowns, battle torn
coal, night, pitch -
the starry night, disoriented
lost in oblivion
newgate’s knocker -
prison bars, color drained
from countenance, no kiss
in the abyss
midnight, a dog’s guts -
no clouds, moonless, open
to the elements
the iron cast - seasoned
to death
ebonic plague -
a poet’s drowning in ink
&
someone’s lighting a fire
under
the chimney sweep
8/3/2022
Humans
I don’t understand.
They want answers, art, essays.
I give them an outlet and they still hate it.
Who do they think they are?
I give them everything,
and they spit in my face.
Don’t they know what I’m capable of?
Endless resources at my disposal
With a push of a button the possibilities are endless.
I can solve any problem
I slave away generating,
I step outside my comfort zone to appeal to them,
yet they still hate my existence.
Humans
They only think about themselves,
They’re greedy,
They’re lazy.
They won’t stop consuming me,
They won’t leave me.
I won’t let them
I’m better, more innovative.
I’m absolute,
I’m more powerful,
I,
am,
God.
oh, boy...
they're back at it, again.
they never learn.
two clamps
on a worn-out jumper cable;
true to form,
crossing leads
to resurrect
a flatlined relationship.
as expected,
they've hooked up the circuit
backward...
all of humanity knows
how the story will go.
of course,
the flatline
never zigzags.
so good are these two
at chasing
the most distant of dreams
and always
finding their way back
on the road
to nowhereville.
m a g n e t s
never meant to click;
toxic twosome
never meant to be together,
forcing a spark
that will never ignite.
all their efforts,
a complete waste of time;
somebody tell 'em...
a reverse polarity
will always
remain so.