Long Darker Poems
Long Darker Poems. Below are the most popular long Darker by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Darker poems by poem length and keyword.
BUTTERFLY IN TUTU
Butterfly in tutu, deliriously delusional, bright
with spangles, tapping her wings. All knew
she was cocky with glorified golden teeth.
She followed the cockamamie caterpillar
with his root-tootie-toot-toot flute. Thoughts
of mopping up this contest after that
creepy-crawly performance. Her tutu, in
and out, in and out. Her wings of grace
up and down, up and down impeccable.
but the Operettes were up next - they were stars!
Dusk dimmed butterfly’s oscaring, dark
and darker, the glare of stars fell. The iridescent
tutu turned black, she stubbed her wings,
she spun out and crashed, and the audience
laughed……………………instead of hiding
she took a bow
12/23/2021
“B” Forms
Sponsor: Constance La France
“Souls and Bodies We’ll Lay Down”
Ominous clouds have
Invaded my soul;
Thrust swords into my heart.
Darker than the midnight air.
Stars gone forever more.
Bloodied hands in my dreams.
I dream not of tranquility
But of lightning and thunder
Pain and hunger.
I pray for your peace
Your hope and honor.
For blue skies and golden wheat.
I pray that your Trident,
Strikes the heart of evil
Bringing this aberration to its knees
Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
I beseech thee please
Save them from this hell.
May your anthem be sung
By all the peoples,
Of all the nations,
Of this world.
I leave you with this heart felt anthem of the Ukraine Nation
Ukraine has not yet perished, nor her glory, nor her freedom,
Upon us, fellow Ukrainians, fate shall smile once more.
Our enemies shall vanish, like the dew in the sun,
And we too shall rule, brothers, in a free land of our own.
Chorus:
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!
II
We'll stand, brothers, in bloody battle, from the Sian to the Don,
We shall not let others rule in our motherland
The Black Sea will smile and grandfather Dnipro will rejoice,
For in our own Ukraine fortune shall shine again.
Chorus
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!
III
Our persistence and sincere toils shall be rewarded,
And freedom's song will throughout all of Ukraine resound.
Echoing off the Carpathians, and across the steppes rumbling,
Ukraine's fame and glory shall be known 'mong all nations.
Chorus
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom,
And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation!
The lyrics of the anthem were written in 1862 by Pavlo Chubynsky – Ukrainian ethnografist, folklorist and poet
Once Upon a Time (Templates)
Once upon a time
a lonely girl neglected
worked among the cinders,
then with a pumpkin changed
and danced all night, the beauty of the ball.
A beast became a prince.
A fair one, raven-haired,
bit into an apple,
then lay inside a coffin
to waken later with a single kiss.
Plots of sugar spun
meant for our amusement
were taken as didactic;
as visions of a bliss;
for some, like me, as templates for romance.
A frog is still a frog.
A girl who is mistreated
might end up on the streets.
Transformed into a junkie,
she turns into a hooker for her john.
A beast remains a beast.
A girl might pose as blonde
and taste of life’s enticements;
then settle on one lover,
to languorously waken to her dawns.
Modern human tales
scatter my illusions.
As skin neath eyes start sagging,
can hope remain unflagging
as time so quickly leaves us all undone?
Feb. 2, 2017
Sorry to take it to a darker place, Eve. That was how the theme inspired me
at birth, my grandson Jack’s eyes were amber like a wolves
his hair had a tinge of ginger that gave him a look of mischief
I had never seen such eyes, but the hair was familiar
My mother was a McCormick; the Irish have lots of redheads
People commented on the hair but not the eyes
Did they not notice those wolf-like orbs? I could not believe it
I guess redheads are rare, that is the impression I had.
I now dye my hair a red shade called burgundy; I adore it.
I wish it would grow out the right color, but alas,
It is growing out white, so I look like a skunk when it is time to dye
My grandson’s eyes have changed to a darker brown,
but he still has that lovely tinge that people marvel about.
At midnight he appeared—
his face brighter than the sun.
I whispered, “Sleeping Prophet,
you are here.”
He did not speak,
only smiled,
and from his forehead
a radiant light poured forth.
The room grew darker,
the silence deeper.
“You gave more than fourteen thousand readings,
and many came true in your lifetime.
The world has not forgotten you,
Nostradamus of our age.”
Through the green language of the soul
he asked me what I longed to know.
I said, “Tell me of Gaza—
what shall come?”
He answered not in words,
but in currents of fire:
“Everything unfolds with reason.
War unveils what was hidden.
It began on the seventh day of October—
seven, the number of completion,
perfection, divine fulfillment.
And 2023 itself was a seventh year.”
He paused,
and the silence trembled like thunder.
“A new Gaza shall rise.
The world will turn against Israel,
even her closest allies.
For blood is holy—
and when it soaks the earth,
it cries louder than swords.
The war was born in the tenth month.
One and zero—return to one.
From hero to zero shall Israel fall,
and the world will never
be the same again.”
The light faded,
and he was gone.
Confusion wrapped me like smoke.
I looked at the clock—
00:00—
the hour when heaven
and earth
stand still.
Yet a whisper lingered in the dark:
“From ashes, truth is born.
What is broken shall be remade.
And beyond sorrow’s shadow,
a dawn more radiant
than the sun will rise.”
They say the lady in the lake is still there
Her spirit lingers caught in the water
Maybe she’s waiting for justice or revenge
Who can say for sure
They say she was killed
Her lover—no her killer stabbed her
Left her sinking in that cold black lake
Sometimes when the nights are too quiet
When the air feels wrong and heavy
She rises
Wrapped in mist grief weighing her down like stones
She wanders Lakeview Manor’s empty halls
Looking for… what I don’t know
The air whispers stories no one forgets
Love betrayed
A life stolen
Dreams gone like smoke
The house groans like it’s tired
Its floors creak as if holding secrets it can’t bear
Nobody stays there now
Not overnight
Not since… well you know
But I stayed
Why I don’t even know
Maybe I was curious
Or stupid
Or something else entirely
The place was quiet full of dust and shadows
And yet
I couldn’t shake the feeling
That someone watched me always from behind
I found her in the ballroom
Her dress torn and dirty
Time had left stains
And something darker I won’t name
She stood so still it felt like waiting
Then she moved
Her hand reached out shaking
And I followed her
She took me down a hallway I swear wasn’t there before
At the end was this old chest
Heavy its hinges creaking like they didn’t want to open
Inside there were letters
Yellowed fragile barely holding together
And a knife
The blade wasn’t shiny anymore
But the blood stain stayed
Dark accusing
I read those letters my hands shaking
Each one bore his name
The man she trusted
The man who ended her life
And suddenly I got it
Why she stays
Why she can’t let go
When I turned to leave
I felt it—a breath a whisper soft as wind
My name
I froze
Turned back
And she was gone
Now Lakeview Manor just sits there
Nobody goes in
Not after what I found
Not after what I heard
But sometimes when the lake is too quiet
And the wind forgets to move
You can hear her still
Crying across the water
A darker shade of blue
The stars call to me through the use of a screen,
But my curtains are closed to them really being seen.
I’m scared of the dark, the night such a fright.
I wish my heart would allow me to not fear closing my eyes.
Sleep with one eye open, praying not to die.
An eye for an eye, in this world full of lies.
I am the day walker, incapable talker, memories stalker.
Midnights death.
I am so lost, I have lost the plot.
I reach for a God, but believe only with my final breath.
The nightmare continues, an eye to a view.
Beauty in natural form, my gift anew.
So dark in my heart, but still I continue.
Poet (slash) dreamer, if only they knew,
Do you think they could tell, the Hell in which I dwell?
The love that I hold has no-one under its spell.
So I stay in silence, lips unused, closing eyelids,
Soul a darker shade of blue.
(C)2023 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Joey the Stuffed Koala is sitting high in the tree
All cuddly and warm, fuzzy as he can be.
He got trapped by Jimmy Vee, his neighbor’s hound.
When it goes away, he might just come down.
Up high like this, he can smell Mrs. Trotter’s apple pie.
He hears Mr. Double’s shouting, and he wonders why.
He has a good view, up here in the fork of the tree.
He is ready for winter, so he is comfortable you see.
He knows when the sky gets a bit darker he had better go.
His owner Samantha will feel badly she left him out in the snow.
They cuddle all night, he and his girl, in her warm little room.
He waits for the dog to go, hoping it will be before he sees the moon.
Closing my eyes shut in a pleasant doze
Within the warm arms of mother Anne
Safe from the unsteady and trembling world
Within her arms of stability
Loved and smothered by all, cherished as gold
In a garden of perfect order
Filled with joy, without authentic glory
She always whispered into my ear
Assurances of earthly achievement
Promises of mortal and worldly love
Dreams of a near land of milk and honey
For whenever I shall leave her care
While in her arms, I heard a distant call
A call from outside this cosmos, a Gnostic call
I believed in that call, and set to seek it
After I will inevitably leave her arms
The destined day came; she loosened her hands
Telling me that ahead was a bridge
And assured me of milk and honey lands
So, Anne let me go, and off I went
I kept hearing the call outside this cosmic sea
Far away, a sweet fragrance of life for me
Instead of a bridge, it was a summit
I was casted down to climb back up
And quickly saw the promised land of “joy”
The gleeful land of milk and honey
Was instead a land of smog and pitfalls
Lost and confused, with no guide or map
I trudged along, with no way to go back
Near the very end, my soul gave up
But my body kept going and searching
Blindly I fell into an abyss
Down to Sheol, where I took a short rest
I recollected the arms of Anne
And remembered her arms’ stability
I kept hearing the call outside this cosmic sea
Far away, a sweet fragrance of life for me
Taking a solemn rest, breathing a sigh
The path ahead became much darker
I entered the dark valley of the soul
Where an old phantom waited for me
That slept dormant since my entombing birth
Was now awakened and tortured me
With only me sleeping keeping him back
My soul was blown and tossed for six months
By his unseen, all-consuming presence
Every second of every hour
Trying to deafen the call with wailing
I recollected the arms of Anne
And remembered her enveloping warmth
I kept hearing the call outside this cosmic sea
Far away, a sweet fragrance of life for me
On a warm evening,
Sat idle on the seashore,
Looking at the sea.
As I was gazing,
Violent breakers rose high,
Crashing on the shore.
Before me I saw,
The savagery of the sea.
Will it be at rest?
I sat on the beach
A little away from crowd,
Breathing briny air.
My mind became light.
Can I be again a child,
Playing on seashore?
Watched small boats gliding.
Saw swallows winging across
And gulls circling round.
With sun plunging down,
Sharks were seen leaping over.
Soon sky grew darker
The crowd was leaving
Will peace sooner descend down,
To soothe my sad soul?
What puzzles do the sea hold?