Long Darknesses Poems
Long Darknesses Poems. Below are the most popular long Darknesses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Darknesses poems by poem length and keyword.
A shadow is the negative side of you,
following wherever light finds your face.
There is a double walking there behind you,
a dark companion tethered to your body.
It is the self you cannot quite own,
your hidden fears and instincts,
the dark side you keep away from light.
Yet a shadow cannot live without its light.
Each defines the other through mutual existence.
So you gather lights from different directions.
Each revealing what the others leave unseen.
Layer upon layer builds a truer,
multicoloured picture, blemishes and all.
So you choose lights from different angles
to make each fault less obvious:
one erases the shadow beneath your nose,
another softens wrinkles and complexion spots,
each correcting what another light exposes.
Many lights improve the way you look—
until you glance behind and discover every added light
has cast another shadow:
a layered geometry of intersecting dark.
Two lights, two shadows crossing,
forming a Venn diagram of absences:
not shared values finding common ground,
but separate darknesses discovering theirs.
Each overlap is a darkness neither could make alone.
Not darkness added to darkness, but light removed twice.
Each shadow carries what its owner will not face.
The self-denied, but never quite dismissed.
What follows us unseen still shapes our steps.
What we suppress keeps learning how to follow.
Fear confirms fear.
Grievance strengthens grievance,
Negatives compound in the dark.
One shadow may remind us that there is light.
Two overlapping may obscure where it came from.
Absence begins to feel like evidence.
Shared darkness masquerades as truth.
Evil needs no darkness of its own—
only shadows agreeing where the light is not.
The more directions we illuminate ourselves from,
the more we try to hide our shadows,
the more places those shadows find to meet—
and they grow darker than either could alone.
Not shared values finding common ground.
But shared absences taking light away.
This love is an ocean of Oman, to this, there won't be a territory or edge
My evidence is secret of Quran, one who knows this will not be shamed
If you are in love with lover, do not be deceived by rest
In this rose garden nobody burns, like Abraham fall into blaze
Sword of Allah is happy with his words, it's his master's consent
There is no pen for insanes, whatever they say will not be blamed
Look this is secret of Quran, every being will taste death
Whoever enters does not stay, with two doors a house of rest
We are lovers we never die, we won't become soil decaying
We never stay in darknesses, to us there is no night and morning
Pray be upon you dear messenger of Allah
Peace be upon you dear lover of Allah
(Chorus)
Written by Seyyid Seyfullah (Sword of Allah)
Translation Onur Ünlü
There are darknesses that I don't want to know
I never want to meet you on any street or back alley
You
paying so deep the price of a soul sold cheap
Ripped by cruelty
I don't want to know you!!!
Searing force and darkness.
I don't want to see you!!!!
You're wretched brilliant eyes are too sharp for me
I see what you've become
The Very glaring brilliance of your pain
turned to darkness is something I cannot heal or can I?
My steel? my strength? My hope? my preservation?
So gently into the night comes kindness
the soft pillow.
a gentle hand
Does heart hope to the heel?
Gently into the night the softest touch and kindness of thought doth bring Hope???? even unto a vampire?
Cannot kindness in its meanness
it's softening ointment
a Salve
A cream
soft as white dew
sweetness of truth
Unto a life that has known nothing but cruelty?
Is it all lost?
Like a babe or teen adopted into a space of generosity
Does a soul ever really give up or does it forever hold in its core?
A flickering tiny flame of creations possibilities.
a place of perfect peace
a tiny gem of truth known to all in the cell walls of birth
can it not be found if brought to an island built of such precious gems as that?
redemption
What is to be reborn not in religion but in faith in life?
if given to or lost forever to a rank red space
I demand that you give me back my shoulder
A shoulder upon which children can cry and in crying.
Remember that every soul has a home in me
I demand my children back!
No child
ever lost that cannot be found
No soul ever so dark that cannot find its way to light
to blues and hues of heaven
Follow the tiny flicker at the tiny light that still exists so very deep in your soul path
...up through the long channel and at the end of the longest tunnel they're still exists.
The holy morning sunrise my light-of the true Light
The mystic stone and mantic bough
are mute and unregarded now;
the vocal fount is dry:
but still the sun and sand and sea
retain the ancient clarity
that saw beyond the sky,
and though no more the cyclic dance
of praise instils the cleareyed trance
that knows what is not seen,
the radiant darknesses that fill
the gaze that brilliance crushed can still
enlighten what we mean.
O blinding eye, whose naked glare
reveals forever everywhere,
whose luminous fury peels
the dark disguise from every blight
to stain it clean, whose ruthless sight
sickens what it heals,
since you at last have laid me bare
of all but what I am, my prayer
is only that your rays
of mortal truthfulness that bore
the answer to my being, no more
shall pierce my emptied gaze,
but let the endless sightlessness
that I myself embrace, confess
the crime which you have shown
is I myself, and let these halls
of silence shrine within their walls
the sin that I have known,
so others, whom your dreadful gleam
of vision wakens from this dream
that ends in death, may lift
their dazed and wounded eyes to me
and know that I was meant to be
a strange and healing gift.
Though what I am may not be heard,
yet I dare speak the single word
that makes this plague a cure:
polluted in my outcast night,
in blindness, I declare the light
is holy, sweet, and pure.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The Incurable Disease of Immensity
I got lost through you like an ant through galaxies of tears,
and your weeping waters deserts I never knew existed inside me,
for your eye is an ocean that drowns within its very salt,
and I am the happy shipwreck who no longer wants to be saved.
I caught you like a fever without knowing what it meant, no cure,
an incurable disease called immense, called you, called us,
and your silences are full of whispers like populated galaxies,
with stars that tangle facts and unstitch them into threads of light.
That essence born from nothing chose me senator at the congress of humor,
and your tear, a supersonic ant, now crosses through my eye,
a flicker-moment where the millennium contracts into a syllable,
and time becomes a drug dissolved in the serum of your nights.
I am addicted to your nights the way the sea depends upon the moon,
and evenings are warm puddles where I sink but never drown,
for you are the water that burns and the fire that quenches thirst,
the living paradox in which I lose myself to find myself complete.
Through glances we first met, through two or three entangled feelings,
and every moment spent with you is a millennium compressed in bone,
a succulent dram of present that I sip like sweetest poison,
and words become supersonic when I know how to whisper them to you.
Just like that, let's say, the shamelessness of getting lost through you is holy,
for my wretched veins all flow toward your heart as toward a center,
and I am the shadow that illuminates, I am the silence that screams,
I am the echo of a word the universe forgot it meant to speak.
I no longer ask the stars' permission to shine inside your eyes,
for I have learned that light is born from darknesses in love,
and the tear that floods your gaze is a blessed deluge,
in which swim words so unique they refuse to be kept silent.
To my moment of millennium I give genius, I give fuel made of soul,
and to your nights I offer my addiction like a gift wrapped up in veins,
for this incurable disease, this immensity without any borders,
is the only diagnosis I accept: I love you, I love you, I love you.
Time to open up your world.
Let them jump right into your mix.
Taste the vast mind pool of your existence.
No need for the ticket man.
Worthy journeys commence for free.
Though impossible-have no prejudice.
Everyone's invited into your destiny.
Some will yearn to stay. Some will beg to leave
Show them nothing or show them everything.
Take grand chances to be truly free.
Time to open up your world.
Shower them with your spirit-shine.
Parch them; sift through your coal darknesses.
Let them sip your diamond shine.
Some will pray to stay.
Some won't even say goodbye.
It's important to show them your entire story.
Time to open up your world.
Let them jump into the heart.
Only a few will stay; most will leave you far behind.
It will be the way it was meant to be.
Either way, it'll be just fine.
Table of The Scribed
Only of the true muse in mind,
Being a he or she?
Can scribe of the darknesses they feel,
Being it told, indeed.
Being this breed of spirits,
Sitting at the Abysses table, take heed!
For that's the table of the;
Devils and Gods,
We are the tellers;
For we are the scribes.
Take up thy quill;
Quick hurry,
Put it in your hand?
Write down the scribes of;
Phraseology, terminology,
They're many forms in their styles!
Am I sure they will understand?
I am learning all the while;
Understand these words
Even the symbolic,
Are they written too absurd?
Revised Edition; September 06, 2021, 4:33 PM (EST)
at last my face begins to rest
at last my feet are curled
warming on the soft plush carpet
fire for heat
and light giving character
in shadows and
light darknesses
thoughts of the days happenings
fly like sparks
memories of a day adrift
lazily stream into darkness
night’s relaxing sooths
full with sunset’s ease
the books I’ve never written
fall from the stars to me
talked to Mandy on the phone
she asked me if I would kiss her
Has she not heard it in my voice
when I say that I love her?
Has she not seen my love sick dreaming?
Has she not talked deep into
the night with me?
Has she not sensed the longing
the desire in my poetry?
Does she not know that I have
dreamed of kissing her for
what seems like an eternity and
if I could kiss her for one half
that amount of time I would still
long to kiss her again?
Mandy I love you and will kiss you whenever,
wherever I can even before you brush your
Teeth in the morning
Rain has stopped
The occurrence of
Sporadic heat
Yet in the basement,
Cool and dark,
I lay not wanting to
Move not wanting
To do anything
But to dream of the
Woman I love
How can I explain the way
I love you
It is like my love of God
My love for nature
My love poetry
My love for beauty
And indefinable happiness
My endless search for perfection
Instead of ending up in verse
Has been pettily packaged in a woman
Who gave her love to me
It felt like Autumn
on this morning’s run
I want it to be fall
with its syllabus of vibes
I’m signaling a stance
I’m autumn’s undoubted champion
wearing my choice like gangland colours
- I could give my all to fall -
summer only ever had my subdivided attention
Summer’s just too needy: it demands relaxation,
bare legs, sun block, beach plans, hydration,
barbecue, and relentless fun, with scant variations
I want the visual promise of leaves falling
the flattering autumnal colour palette
my whole devotion crowns shortening days
fall always serves as a competent stylist
complete with venti pumpkin lattes
and mornings with a costume of frost
Unbind the theatrical heats of midsummer nights
and let the season's advance revive us
show us falls slanting golden afternoon light
let crisper darknesses harbour counterfeit witches
and lengthening dusks warrant winter wishes
Let fall assume her russet throne
and give us autumn’s cool agenda
without the influenza
.
.
Songs for this:
Ping Pong by Dimie Cat
Messy by Lola Young
My demons, I see,
Though they are quiet
But are never silenced
They still want to riot.
Some of the demons leave me,
So, it's quiet in my head
Some of them travel with me
Yet, they roam inside me, dead.
I'm sure they'll always be around,
In my darknesses, I want to sleep
They want to pull me, tied-up into
My abyss, deep in the steep.
Release me demonic spirits, I quake,
And lead me only to an endless solitude
So I can rest from the exhaustion
Your evils cause, then wants to take.
Fleeing, setting me free from your distractions,
You're this chaos, that's causing me to dread my life
With the unsettledness lurking, stirring around inside
I find myself dead, having no more strife.