Ominously Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member Thought of the day

if a node in the sky were to rebel
leaving behind its carcass in decay
though far away it yet sounds a death knell
ominously thus prophesying doomsday

What's Next

The Hornet hung, ominously,
like an Osprey craft,
bad intentions indicated.

Tempest Fury

The clouds turn black, a bruised and heavy sky
A sudden gust of wind takes the leaves up high
The animals scurry on as the birds start to fly
The rain starts to patter like a summer in July

A thunder breaks out like a crack of the whip
Lightning strikes close, it makes your heart skip
A flood slowly rises as the ceiling starts to drip
The roof’s about to collapse like a capsizing ship

The winds take turns howling in despair
The lawn decor’s getting tossed up in the air 
The rain blows sideways as it cuts and it tears
Mother Nature throws a fit of elemental scares

The warm sun is gone, only gray clouds remain 
The silent aftermath leaves only fear and the pain
The effects of a storm that ominously reigned
This tempest leaves its mark like a holy bloodstain


Premium Member The Reign Came Down

In Germany's dusk, the fourteenth century fell
Disorder in the shadows, and village anger will swell
Where towns blossomed once, now chaos reigned
All rights tangled, privileges weren’t gained
Classes divided, old alliances torn
Princes and estates where conflict was born
Fields and workshops, commerce and trade
All swept up in strife that no one could evade
Country folk suffered, their fortunes declined
Feuds and famine ominously combined
Villages vanished only names remain
Echoes of lives lost to hunger and pain
Unrest and lawlessness, violence and fear
Only the strong could persevere
No ruler to unify, no guiding hand
Germany's turmoil swept across the land
So peaked the chaos the harbingers said
The way of order whimpered and fled
They would not do the same in The Western Land
They learned from how Germany had mistakenly band

Terra Incognita

A continent we haven't yet worked out, 
it may be barren, may contain high worth. 
The more we learn, the greater grows our doubt. 

A place of poison spiders, clot-red earth, 
it's huge. Marseilles to Moscow isn't quite 
the space which separates Penrith from Perth. 

When first we meet it, promise glitters bright. 
Its sun is strong, its vegetation lush ... 
Harsh truth defeats analysis so trite. 

This beauty is skin-deep. Sweet waters gush, 
but only on its gaily-colored fringe. 
Interiors are ominously hushed. 

Just scratch the surface, there's an ocher tinge 
which speaks of life extinguished. Dead rocks seethe 
beneath cruel radiation. Reptiles cringe 
in crevices. There's nothing here to breathe.

X marks the spot




Monstrously Machievellian

Demonic pedagogic

Ominously Orwellian

Demagogic logic 

Fools’ Musk-ovite mules

Zuckerberg zeitgeist heist

Dickensian dystopia rules

Google last post bugle 

Fossil fuels myopia drools

Bellicose Bezos blows

Bro-ligarchy mates’ malarkey

Unions demonstrate

Amazon defenestrate 

Hades Gates hierarchy

In the dock

Murdoch foxy skulduggery

Poxy TikTok runs amok

Crass puns..shock thuggery

This lot don't give a jot
.
Bitter sh**ter Twitter

Greedier needier seedier

The death of mass media

X marks the spot!


Premium Member Reading the Future

The lass came to consult in the darkening gloaming,
Shyly, she knocked on the frosted window
Of the gypsy’s cabin.  She was sick with trepidation,
As she was ushered into the musty, decrepit room.

The crystal globe on the table seemed opaque.
Unpredictable how things came fearsomely to a head.
The globe cleared momentarily and became luminous. 
Intimidating hums and aha followed this,
As if all has been quickly but ominously revealed.

The gypsy fortune teller’s voice was full of pathos,
“I see a young, valiant man guiding you into a shop.
Armed men entered to steal what they could.
Someone fired a shot.  The young man protected her.
He died on the spot.” All this she saw in the globe.

The young lass vowed she’d never enter into any shop,
But the gypsy assured her that she would do so.
The future cannot in any way be changed.  It was immutable.
The lass left; sure, she would be melancholy for evermore.


Fiction & Fantasy

Premium Member She asked, 'What does your painting mean'

She asked, "What does your painting mean?"
I said, "Nothing really. It's just a portrait of a peaceful evening scene."
She said, "But I sense something ominously stark,
there, lurking behind those two figures in the dark."
I said, "Oh, yeah. I see exactly what you mean.”

Premium Member Owl

Of the cold night, am I,
Observing with each eye.
Overhead, I explore.
Ominously, I soar
Over the forest floor.
Oops, what nixed Mousie's life?
Only my talon's knife.

Premium Member miserable forlorn abandoned shack

the abandoned shack looks miserable and forlorn
standing amid brambles and weeds in an unkempt field
her porch boards creak ominously as we walk across them
Some of the end boards have disintegrated
she looks sad and gloomy; her front door is gone
she has not been cared for in a number of years
the upstairs windows are broken probably by rocks
her kitchen has been stripped of appliances
wires hang where her oven used to be
the floor is brighter next to these wires
a tiny creature scuttles across the floor
She smells like animals
She has probably been a haven for squirrels and mice
Maybe raccoons take up residence during the winter
Do you want to go upstairs? My girlfriend asks
I shake my head “no” not wanting to see any more

Premium Member Storms Will Pass

"over the waters blue the night winds sigh,
    The breakers roar... " Lord Byron  

"Over the waters blue the night winds sigh
The breakers roar..." Waves collapse before my eyes.
I catch my breath, looking up at the sky,
I express deep awe; The glory replies -
The breeze whispers softly in my ears.
Tenderly, it dries away my tears.
The glittering moon distracts from fears.
It guides the night til each new day nears.

Out on the ocean sailing alone
The ship, though sturdy, is not like home.
The silver-black sea, I venture, I roam.
A storm now approaches! I'm tossed and thrown.
Great monstrous clouds gather ominously!
Wavey tongues taste this ship hungrily!
The appetite swells in the restless sea.
Will shipwreck result? What catastrophe!

The storm dies down with a slow, long hiss.
A new day begins in golden bliss.
"Over the waters blue the night winds sigh
The breakers roar..." Chant the seagulls near by.

Premium Member There Is A Darkness

It's not the pitch-black scene that surrounds me ominously.
Suspense-filled 'what's hidden within?' feelings heavily haunt
Visions of serpents creeping around precariously
Appear and disappear like nightmares and jeeringly taunt

Though, sometimes, death-like is this dark environment outside.
There's a purgatory-like gloom encircling me within.
From the angels of inner illumination, I hide
My wrath, rage, hate, and mercilessness throw me into sin.

A glimpse of awareness, yet, like a little ray, is seen.
A lamp of optimism, though flickering, is burning still.
Why should I be my foe? Nay. May my friendship with me clean.
Shouldn't I, like an enlightened self, do the divine will?

The nectar brim fills when petals unfold in detachment.
Hungry flies and bees around drink to their hearts' contentment.
Attachment, aversion, and delusion are malignant.
Defeating darkness, I find existential fulfilment.

Torpid souls in the heat of winter

Wind whispers through the ears of distant lovers as the sun hides behind ominously positioned clouds 
where their gray cast shadows on quiet hearts 
quiet minds, & quiet eyes alike 

Poor lovers, transfixed by natures embodiment of their undisclosed truths, 
words no more manageable than a peep escaping a ducklings throat 

Eyes shut wide, glued by dependance
Waiting for mama to come, waiting to be fed 

But there is no food here, just gray 
& mama will not come it is just you and i
& the feelings we dare not bare 
Starving ourselves 
waiting for spring to melt the ice away

Premium Member Song of The Raven No 4: AABB

Seasons bring ... the nights, Machiavelli's
Corvus corax or ravens, hints, rallies
birds of good and evil, biblically,
and birds of a feather, ominously,
fed Elijah; 1 Kings 17: ... good,
left Noah; Genesis 8: ... bad, withstood
words by De La Mare, Pollard, and purely ...,
Poe. Riposte's preface specter writes, surely ...,
"Unblackeneds spot the murder from peaks cross.
Fowl scratched a stilted appendaged, exhausts
for ends, internal haunts recuse it from
rituals such ... be marred guilt and succumb
in absentia accused of their acts.
Black king seeks a pawn, the hour ... ink affects."

Premium Member Komorebi Tourist in Paradise

Tradewinds strummed the cocoa nutter's palm fingers
the sun crept down to its packed trunk
overburdened routes tangled tunnels underground
the sun snuck below through the subtropic shaft 
a sunny chamber secrets rays gaping droplets 
friendly fronds fingering the sun's gaps as palms' breadth widen
cavernous collapses as sunlight escapes
shadows were the only victims that were claimed
the noontime sun dims over paradise
solar eclipse is a harbinger
light dims life ominously
the betrayed-winds cease
palms fronds dangling
eclipse ends the sun's suspend
eve befriends supine palms read
groves of palms with their trunks all packed
air express vents

Sub Categories

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