Long Sad dark Poems
Long Sad dark Poems. Below are the most popular long Sad dark by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sad dark poems by poem length and keyword.
Coincidence is the hope of a non-believer.
Living in a house, in the middle of nowhere,
No noise, no commotion, just lots of fresh air.
Oh isn't this the life? A perfect holiday,
A perfect time; to get away.
The sad dark man, with no hope in his soul,
Has now finally found, what he is looking for.
You’re not looking for love, but it's jumped up and bitten you.
How do I know this? Because it's bitten me too.
But you are the cause for me being bitten,
Once shy; now forever smitten.
Speaking is hard and thinking is harder when you are high,
But I've been thinking of you, since I said my goodbyes.
Awaiting the day I see you and your peacock feathers raised high,
Every colour of the rainbow, is all I see in your eyes.
It was hard to say goodbye, because I wanted to stay with you,
But if our future is together,
It's something I'll have to get used to.
But complications, have built a wall between us,
Only together can we bring it down,
If in each other we truly trust.
But you’re not looking for love, so what’s a brother to do?
I can't simply find someone else, when all I think about is you.
If you would let me in, to open your mind
And let you embrace darkness, you wish to find.
As well as the bright white shining light, you have followed,
Then two of us then, shall shine together.
The darkness has now passed and we’re addicted to the sun.
We love this warm weather; we love to have fun,
We love unbridled passion and satisfaction.
Can this just be a coincidence?
Or is it just an undeniable attraction?
You make my heart purr, like a cat with the cream,
I love to sleep each night and meet you in my dreams.
It's a shame you only want, some fun and a fling,
For now I must leave and go do the whole mundane love thing.
(C)2006 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
In the hush of dawn wild flowers bloom,
Blossoms mingle sweetly amongst the row of tombs;
Scents drift in the air setting free spring perfume,
The lovely flowers transcends the sad dark gloom.
A rainbow of colours swaying in the breeze,
Pink dances with purple and orange with yellow;
And dipping and soaring the swirling bees,
Your soft sweet voice mother is but a faint echo.
I pause my journey to you and pick wild flowers,
Holding beauty I press a kiss on your stone;
A love for flowers that dark death cannot alter,
Lovely bright flowers I leave on your tombstone.
In the quiet a soft humming voice hovers,
And above her tomb a wild flower bubble lingers.
________________________________
March 28, 2015
Poetry/Sonnet/Blossoms and Bubbles
Copyright Protected, ID 03-657-798-28
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, Blossoms and Bubbles
Sponsor, Olive Eloisa Guillermo, Judged 04/2015
Ninth Place
I wait upon the threshold, bare,
A hollow silence chills the air,
I call your name, but none reply,
Only my echoes, and they die.
Yet I linger, lost, sorrow on,
Yearning for a voice, long gone.
Hearing phantom calls everywhere,
You’re not there.
I remember when I held you near,
Your presence lingers, ghostly, clear,
I reach into the empty sphere,
As if you will embrace me here.
I hug and hold you tight with care,
But I only feel the cold air,
You’re not there.
A part of me believes you breathe,
Your milky scent drifts underneath.
I feel your softness, warm, distilled.
I see your eyes, blessing me still.
Though what's unreal is your stare,
You’re not there.
I dream, I weave our lives as one,
Together still, though it’s done,
In my mind, it’s you, always fair,
But none of this survival, I am aware,
You’re not there.
My future, past, vast, unfurled,
My everything, really, my entire world.
In the end, though all I could care,
You’re not there.
Even the brightest dreams descend
And you, perfection, came to an end.
You’re not there.
Nothing can compensate despair.
You’re not there.
You’re gone.
Rest in peace, baby. Whenever I look into the sky, I see you, the brightest star. I miss you, and I’ll always love you.
I go to a place of memories
That haunt my vivid dreams
On a winding path I walk,
The path is always there ;
Old oaks bend their branches,
Of dripping leaves and moss ;
The grass is emerald green,
And many birds chirp unseen,
Chipmunks scurry here and there,
Running up and down the trees.
And all around are flowers bright
They flutter in the breeze.
She waits beyond this bend;
Oh she was my sister love.
How we liked to play and play,
Until that sad, dark day,
She went to be an angel above.
I think it was God's will.
A rose I place upon her grave,
And now I write the pain.
The last time I saw my sister love,
She lay in repose so sweetly;
Her lips were rosy in death stillness.
Arms folded as if in prayer,
I kissed her cold dead cheek,
And I will remember her ;
Sleeping in her eternal ever rest,
Her dress of the softest pink.
The years have slipped past me,
I am no longer a little girl ;
But a woman of many years,
Yet when I walk this path,
I go back to that sad day.
The day I watched sister love,
Lowered into the earth below;
Mother Earth opened wide,
And then she was a memory.
A memory that will haunt me,
In all my days that remain ;
This place of deep sorrow,
A winding path beneath the trees,
A name upon cold stone ;
In poems inspired I write the pain,
Of a my beloved sister love
________________________
August 15, 2015
Poetry/Verse/I Go to a Place of Memories
Copyright Protected, ID 15-699-974-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, No More Masks,
sponsor, Catie Lindsay
8th Place
I have never known alone
as when I lie next to you.
I have never felt orphaned,
unknown,
alien,
as when cramped within our zoo.
I have only become this dark
when missing not missing you.
I am breathing in
hoping to exhale, all through.
I don't want to want to hear you
when I look past your sad dark eyes.
I can't bear to sing this song
slow dancing echoed sighs.
I don't want to be this anymore
becoming drawn to close my door.
If you can love me as I am
please help me find breath's floor.
I don't want to play house anymore,
my soul wilts in air this poor.
I don't want to want to breathe us anymore.
I can't want to breathe this evermore.
scared, alone
broke down on dark highway
creepy willows, hover over me
waiting for a sign of headlights
but to no avail-none
i debate to walk
slowly creeping through woods
fog thicker than lard
water gushing in open-toed shoes
till i see a dim light
wooded cabin tucked away
shadowed by redwoods
i knock-no answer
i enter cautiously
sit by fireplace as i
remove my wet shoes
there's a towel hung over rocking chair
as if waiting for methen it hits me
i've been here before
locked in a closet
by some crazed maniac
i slowly step to the closet door
turn the knob
crouched in corner
scared, alone
looking into my eyes
another young soul
taken before her time
i retrace my steps
and remember when i was 16
driving down this dark highway
when my car broke down
thinking someone would help
waking to being tied and tortured
till i no longer breathed
scared and alone
karen croft
I am a sage and savant of sweet poetry,
Especially my own sad, dark ramblings;
Assessing the new for ageing potential,
I can tell with my soul if a poem weeps.
In my mind are the old, dark and beautiful,
Swirling to release their aroma gently;
I smell it and sip it and write the tears,
The words come creeping like old vines.
I am fully immersed in the art of writing,
Drinking a wine glass of deep blue sky;
And like the finest grapes my words ripen,
And I taste the sweetness amid the pain.
The truth at times bitter wine.
_________________________
August 14, 2015
Poetry/Verse/"Lover of Writing Life"
Copyright Protected, ID 15-700-157-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Wine Connoisseur,
sponsor, Chase Trevi
Seventh Place
Field of Vision
I have never seen an Angel,
They are not for me to see.
But I know a Heavenly sentry,
Is watching over me.
I have never met the Devil-
But some nights upon my Bed;
That sneaky Ugly rascal,
Dances wildly in my head,
In nighttime's lonely hours,
When all good children sleep.
Memories crowd around me;
and sad dark shadows creep.
I cannot see the future;
As through darkness I must trod.
But I trust my destination;
Is in the hands of God.
I have never seen my Savior;
walking on some quiet beach.
But I've found his sweet provision;
Always there within my reach.
Why does pain hurt,
Why does being restless evoke the mind to undergo seizures of human revoke,
Why is the smile on my face plastic, I can feel it melt to the floor like drip drop,
Why is believing you want me so hard to believe,
And why do I feed myself selfish lies to calm my nerves,
My eyes are open but clearly not wide enough to have my brain pick out my flared sockets,
Why is a question with unanswered answers,
Why is a question that leaves me bothered and I still wonder why!
My ears hear squeaking noise, not very sure if it’s a rat or a man or a woman,
Speech released from your rolled tongue into a thousand forms,
Your actions speaking plain and confusing,
See understanding is easy but overthinking is an art that leaves me paralyzed,
You paralyze me from the waists down, I would probably beg you to hold me before my fall,
But I would probably realize that you were never here at all,
Silly girl, you are not heartbroken, you just read the situation harder than e-wall would hit that wall,
Silly girl you do not understand issues of the heart, chemistry broken down in meth, alcohol is not the solution they say but that’s my chemistry!
Our chemistry!
Silly boy, you made her fall hard, and left her without a lie, and expecting her to smile and say goodbye,
You made her want to leave you, you say you did her a favor, a favor of zero flavor her taste buds were inflamed by the time she left you,
Silly boy now you miss her and can’t come round to convince your mind to carry out the actions of your heart to win her back,
Why you forced her to leave you is a mistery not yet unraveled by your own nonsensical brain cells,
Why is a question with no broken mirror, two sided maybe but it’s an unending question with a fairly non quizzical answer that alsways turns out to be questionable,
Why,That’s a question that will leave me bothered,
So many versions that will probably leave a broken girl scared,
And a sad boy in the sad dark,
And all we can ask is why.
There's nothing we can do, the doctor said!
It was December, nineteen-seventy.
At once, those words exploded in my head
and pierced my heart- which broke in agony.
How could this be- she's much too young to die
at fifty-four, and I, just thirty-two?
Convulsed in tears, I begged the question, why-
please, doctor, tell me, please- this is not true!
To lymph nodes, bones- the killer-cancer crept-
too late for surgery or chemo now.
The doctor's sad, dark eyes said, please accept
this news I give- which we can't disavow.
She passed away late summer, the next year;
those long nine months- such painful reveries.
Though, forty-nine years now- I still hold dear
my loved, missed Mom- in dusty memories.
July 31, 2020
Contest: Dusty Old Memories
Sponsor: Constance La France