Long Dark poetry Poems
Long Dark poetry Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark poetry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark poetry poems by poem length and keyword.
In a fragile sleep, I lie
the threads of dreams come
And untie my soul for this mortal flesh
of bone and mind.
I drift in deep indigo seas, fading to aquamarine
form deeper seas of I have been shown
a land where dreams fly & nightmares roam
a doorway to realms unseen but only dreamed
in past the horizons of the sky
the worlds within and domains without
the lands where the dreams are felt
here I lie in fragile sleep
the vile between thins and pale
between worlds beyond beauty to regions of
Nightmares and infinite hells
here is where I dwell in leagues beyond sleep
pass the walls of the reality of this and the next and one within
were we peer past the known to place, unfelt
a different turn of fate a different word whispered
in hate, n Love-crafts a different world
unlike but close to this and the next
where we can see what would have been
here we dwell in the leagues of fragile sleep
were wishes are made and live fast
till dawn in visions of what will be
blazon upon optics that dwell in pure and perfect sleep
were a war of a future past is a ghost that lasts
in a fragile sleep of broken visions and searing memories
a land of dreams where nightmares run free
in realities unknown and never seen
if only in the depths of the most fragile sleep
Feathered Brazilian brown hair with eyes that match.
Red lips,Skinny brows with mascara thick on each lash.
Skin tone honey roasted cashew.
Body scarred from self harm and all she had been through.
Felonies,misdemeanors and a diploma.
From Great kills,Staten Island to the beaches of Clearwater and Sarasota.
Vodka on the rocks with a splash of diet coke.
Mirror, a straw and lines of coke.
She always made you laugh With every joke.
Even though,Throughout my childhood my mom was an addict.
There is no other women, I would of rather spent my life with.
Taught me how to be ok with surviving by myself.
Showed me some life choices will have you buried or displayed on a shelf.
I’ve learned from all your mistakes. So, I choose love over wealth.
I was born the black sheep to break the family cycle for my own health.
To ensure, I face the life. I try to create with my best self.
3/8/15
I heard a lot of sad voices
And made many bad choices
Until I understood that always being mad was pointless
I was feeling much better
With or without a jacket made of duck feather
I was up and ready for whatever
As others mocked with scrutiny
It did not ruin me
Because there was an opportunity
For proper unity
As I offered two or three
Pieces of copper jewellery
They rejected it and fought brutally
But were soon caught in the doom to be
Where there was not enough room to breathe
I knew that very few believed
In me and you truthfully
Unless we would soon achieve
Everything under the moon and seas
It was harder
To think even smarter
When trying to get farther
But it was worth something larger
If you had the ardor
And were willing to be a pathway carver
With or without a set of armour
When the surroundings got even darker
Several miles from the closest harbor
I am still the one
Who prays for you
First thing in the mornings
And in my prayer I ask you
To get rid of my winter blues
I am still the one
That woke up tired today
Yes today we are having a blizzard
I am not going anywhere today
I am going now to my living room
I will turn my computer on
And due some work for my father
For a couple hours
All the poems I write are
Different
It is interesting how it comes out
All my poems
That was written with different feelings
That comes straight from my heart
Yes I been writing poems for 30 years
I started to write poems 30 years ago
My first poems that I wrote were not that
Good
Yes I needed to practice writing poems
Daily
Now after 30 years
My poems are better
I write about all different subjects
Also I stop writing dark poetry
Because it was very depressing for me
A hoarse whisper, at 2.49 a.m.
"It's over-it's over- it's-"
There, he is,
in his dark bedroom,
eyes wide open, but seeing nothing.
Fists clenched with sheets, and nails sunk to the skin.
He mutters it, to the locked bedroom door,
as if it's someone who's listening
to his confession, sorrow.
2.50 it is.
A tear, dull and frozen,
falls from his left eye,
just to land on his shaking upper lip.
"It's over- it's over- it's-"
his hair, wet with sweat,
voice rasp with dread,
with a broken throat and a heart,
he mutters the same,
again and again,
in same pain,
same tone,
to the same silent wall.
His over bitten lip,
now glistening in red.
Iron and salt,
mixed in pain.
He feels it.
He cries, finally....
There, 2.55, sleep is crawling,
not a fitful one, shaking, he falls asleep.
3.00 a.m. it is.
DANG!-the alarm..
He wakes up, again.
Just to begin another day of hiding the suffering,
and suffering from hiding.
Intoxicated, they love to see them guns go bang. Bang, bang,
another one has been shot down. Bang, bang, the guns of war
has shot you down.
The streets has filled my eye's with gunsmoke, the sense of the
wise try to run and hide and flee from this crazy life. Escape it all,
escape the madness in the world.
Run and hide, they try, snipers always gun them down.
Bang, bang, gunsmoke clears the crowd.
The weapon of an ak-47 empty out the shells as the shots goes off,
another one down.The power of a semi-automatic left blood on the
streets of our communities, there's no peace or smiles in this land to be.
Bang, bang, shots fired, another one down.
I am the darkness that falls in to your dreams
The nightmare that last longer throughout the night
The catcher of fear to lock-up the soul
A snatcher of spirit through a night invitation ceremony
The only red light in the alley of doom
I was feared by many more still counting
I'm only summoned by the strongest heart to fight their worst nightmares
As I do not produce news of trend
I only inflict pleasure smeared with pain endurance
Suffered tears has more deeper meaning than spells collected in my creation
It brings excitement in my ears
To listen to a prayer while pledging for forgiveness
It warms the ban inside me to unleash your reward of anguish
My story was never told or written in any mark
The body count shall be my tittle while it's trailing tall
And my name will run through history of dream terrors
Release me!
In your dreams I shall appear
"Close your eyes
Hist my name silently
Dream me inside your dreams while passing through the grave yard
See the Yat pulling fast in the lake, let the water consume you and I shall appear in your death dream
Finally smile with a purpose of knowing that your last breath shall sink in the pillow till eternity"
Beset by bitter guilt, he treads the street.
From cheerless eyes spring teardrops he can’t quell.
His head is lowered should by chance he meet
a glance from one who knows his guise too well.
He can’t escape his ever-present shame.
It’s risen in him, like the moon this night,
and so he pumps his arms and runs. . . aflame
with pain. He loathes himself, and that’s his plight.
The masses fall behind him now. The beach
has summoned him, and in the sky a storm
of oscillating wings appears. . .the screech
of thousands clears his mind. Grey bodies swarm
around him. He is found! His spirit lulls.
His refuge is the city of the gulls.
December 27, 2015
For the Deep and Dark Poetry Contest of Broken Wings
In my thoughts poetic words are swirling,
tumbling and whirling like caged birds;
trapped and reckless,
oh, the fluttering !
I hold my pen and sad words drip, drip,
bleeding upon my new white page;
oh, the weeping,
oh, the fluttering !
The pages of my life are old and frayed,
past ornate gates voices call my name;
the tombs are wet,
oh, the fluttering !
(of the caged birds in my head)
__________________________
May 19, 2020
Poetry/Verse/Oh, This Fluttering
Copyright Protcted, ID 20-1253-301-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Submitted to Brian's Choice L Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
I lie with shadows past the midnight hours
wondering . . . wondering. . . when will I ever sleep?
Something gnaws at me; at times it devours.
It devours the dreams I hope to dream.
Lyrics of some song or nothing-thoughts seem
insistent on lodging in my mind – where they creep.
My soul yearns to slumber, but inside I’m reeling.
The nothing-thoughts persist although they are not my plight!
What keeps me from my dreams is a feeling.
It’s kin to dread, and I lie in my bed like a leaf
swept by an inner wind-force; that feeling is a thief
robbing me of precious sleep in the umbra of night.
Jan. 1, 2018 for Lu Loo's Rhyme Time 7- Deep And Dark Poetry Contest
Theme #5: Umbra of Night using rhyme scheme: A-B-A-C-C-B D-E-D-F-F-E