Long Darkening Poems
Long Darkening Poems. Below are the most popular long Darkening by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Darkening poems by poem length and keyword.
The moon so close,
Darkening, what I know!
It's all upto the stars,
I wish, it never fall like me.
Night on my mind,
Sharp the nightmare hits.
Me and mid 3 o'clock,
Takes me to memories.
And whatever I remembered!
A hope of morning prayer,
By school and closed notes,
It's up to your eyes,
Wherever it takes me,
I wish, takes me to memories.
Have you forgotten?
The letters carried by books,
And messages I shared.
Close enough to bring me,
From far away to you.
Now, it's all upto the star,
I wish, it takes me to memories.
It hurts me sometimes,
That now you are away.
My eyes shut by yellow,
Still all dark I see beside.
It pinch a needle in my heart,
And flow of blood takes me,
Takes me to memories.
Should the darkness fall this night
early in the cold snow's black and white,
a monochrome image that slips in at dusk
when all the wold lay watching in its hush;
step aside a moment and contemplate the merits
of ice and snow pressing on the earth most cherished.
In the evening shadows comes the silent hymns
that man still hums and sings to the soul within,
the footsteps of humanity upon the world
molding and reshaping nature as it unfurls;
greet the night, the darkening sky, the stars that glow
reflecting faint light seen only in the snow.
Let the obscurity fade and blend away the black
cleanse the inner soul revealing all cracks,
those hidden words held captive in our devotion
that silence our innate hopes and dreams unspoken ;
should darkness fall, open your arms to welcome it
with sleep and dreams of the hopeful spirit.
The boat sways under a reddening sunset.
Is it wrong to wish for a Viking funeral,
to ponder a last journey West
into the dying light?
Strangers have always been my companions,
they intuit
the liquid, and inflammable nature
of this thing we do
- this poetry that is the life of us.
I could rest here in a free-floating skiff
adrift on a long warm wave of evening,
let the wooded lands and sloping meadows,
the smoke-stacked barge brimming harbors.
the patched up, river towns,
let them all slip on by
under the furled sails of evening clouds.
Just drift myself into the dusky flames,
as kindling for a starry night,
until the flowing waters enter a darkening fall,
or should I hitch this small craft
to an uncertain tomorrow,
maybe land upon another stump of reality,
one where imagination
can still idly play with fire?
She sits alone in a darkening car,
waiting for Jimmy, a soccer star.
He's taking longer these days, it seems;
but he's one who gets tangled in his dreams.
Her neighbor sees her, asks if she's going in
just waiting for Jimmy, she smiles with a grin.
She sits in the car and takes June's hand,
saying, June, I don't think you understand.
Jimmy's not in the house anymore;
nor out on the soccer field kicking a score.
He left three months ago, to this day.
he had errands to run and on his way,
an angel, embracing him, took him aflight.
It won't help to sit here all of the night.
He watches over you, of that, I'm sure,
for Jimmy's love was always pure.
Please, take my hand and come with me
We'll go inside for a nice cup of tea.
Then I'm calling Big Jim to come right home
because I don't want you to be all alone.
She follows directions, thinking how can it be?
What I really want is my son hugging me.
I must make this long day end somehow,
Jimmy is gone, I see that more clearly now.
No longer on earth, I now understand:
I won't see Jimmy grow into a man.
Tears won't help a mother who yearns
for a son who has left and will never return.
i
when the sun is erotic
and the moon lyric
the winds turn tempestuous
in the orbit of love
legs slide by calls of nature
ii
you and I alive
in cold winter night feeling
warmth of your body
through erect nipples
after days of abstinence
iii
before the foamy
water could sting her vulva
a jelly fish passed
through the crotch making her shy—
the sea whispered a new song
iv
swirling spiral
of her skirt spills tides of dream
and memory:
I breathe fire in the dance
forgetting bends and twists
v
when I wanted to change
seats my friend said she can
only if the door’s locked
the light out and her mom
in another city
vi
when I have no home
I seek refuge in the cage
of your heart and close
my eyes to see with your nipples
the tree that cared to save from sun
vii
the smile you weave splits
the sun I lose my direction
in clouds that cover
the banks darkening the white
of the lake moon kissed
(From: my collection of poems Sense and Silence: Collected Poems
(Jaipur: Yking Books, 2010, pp. 200-201)
viii
love’s spirit descends
and melds into her body
lending it new life:
I’m amazed how the unknown
becomes one with her beauty
When nature takes a turn for the worst
grumbling rumbles shakes
great balls of fire falling
in her tears black snowfalls
Burning smell of sulphur burns
rolling down the mountains molten lava
they salute death rivers of flames
the chariots of Hell's fire
Crying infants wailing out mercy
embraced in their mothers arms
held together with fathers
They roared to the Gods for help
falling silver ashes remains
Imagining God had forsaken them
as the skies disappeared from their eyes
falling into the darkening death vision
Their universe plunged into darkness
Victims they felt death falling upon them
A deadly feeling they are the children
cursed by the damned volcano
No where to run
No where to hide
They stop and the black ash swallows them
like a carpet of night forever gone
but always remembered in hearts
the fall of a great city in living history
truly lives forever in the archives of our time
I would be the Celtic gladiator
Your tops on the line hanging down
Swaying gently in the coolness of breeze
The evening comes in its violet gown
Darkening the lawn and the leaves
You turned on the light, it reflects outside
The pot that stands close to the house
Is illuminated most brightly tonight
I see all its rims and the flowers
Are stretching up high, maybe sensing the moon
If it can look out of the cloud
The air spreads magical smells in the bloom
Cicadas are chirping aloud
I think at the end of an August it was,
Last year, when you opened the door
And photoed your garden for me, just because
I asked you the same day, before.
Forty percent was the chance it would rain,
Which is what my phone app was predicting.
I went for my walk with my eye to the sky,
But the darkening clouds were conflicting.
I had an umbrella which fits in the bag
Where I carry my water for drinking,
So I ambled on, getting further away
And I wondered just what I was thinking.
For, after a mile, rain came barreling down,
Without one little drop as a warning.
My umbrella unfurled, I retraced all my steps,
Cutting short my full exercise morning.
Though my sneakers were dripping, as well as my socks,
I got home with just minimal stressin’
But I have to remember my phone often lies,
Which is really a valuable lesson.
melancholy bleeds tears of darkness, hues
wistful, lonely weeping silently, night
blazing with the grim, a shroud to confuse
withdrawn into the aching, grieving write
poetry and prose bleeding bleakest doubt
wistful, lonely weeping silently, night
even dreams so beautiful can burn out
the muse, once light, grows heavier, gloomy
poetry and prose bleeding bleakest doubt
all hope gone, depression shifts all through me
darkening my heart, my soul, with feelings
the muse, once light, grows heavier, gloomy
dread fills the heart with the bleakest dealings
will there never be the chance to find grace?
darkening my heart, my soul, with feelings
fears, sorrows surround me with their embrace
melancholy bleeds tears of darkness, hues
will there never be the chance to find grace?
blazing with the grim, a shroud to confuse
Eight Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
May 27, 2023
I would ask Earth
to relentlessly rewrap Her darkening veil.
Yet at what risk of depressing our healthiest outcomes
could "right now" wishes always incarnate last pleasure?
Restless religious
and political opportunity dreams
of anthro-
and ego-omnipotence
Why does merely natural incarnation
emerge from indigenously spiritual Elders?
like unvoiced and unchosen physical infancy
culminating in unvoiced and unchosen
final mental notes
of passionately pregnant requiems,
like Earth regenerate life born
of degenerating Sun's warm embryonic womb
expiring dualdark death.
I would ask for healthy and safe passage
through this fertile transition time
unfolding between my personal pleasure history
and EarthTribe's political future
therapeutic compassion cooperators
reconnecting re-ligiously logistical statements
following ecological win/win Golden principles
of bodies reminding minds not
not consistently stretching body/mind birth
back and forth
toward indigenous nature/spirit
passion/pleasure healthy rights
not unsafely wrong.
I had feared Earth might not so flirtatiously unwrap
Her dualdark coarising veil of Time's great revolutions
within each AnthroMind,
within each EarthBody species,
within each sacred coarising time in space
binomially unfolding
dipolar inside/outside co-empathic issues
pointing our panentheistic wu wei
toward more resonant resolutions
of eco-abundant healthy sacred life
transcending ego-absent
small unvoiced
unchoiced secular deaths.