Short Gloom And Doom Poems

The irises are so purple bright
glistening and gazing in the night
starry back drop out of sight

Picture perfect as the full moon
past the horizon of gloom and doom
from days that bloom in late June

By Susan Mills...

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Out of earshot from the 
Howlers and yowlers,
I'm surrounded by the 
Aroma of trees.

Mean spirits begone!
Gloom and doom? 
Sorry no room.

Lifted to a shore,
By Mercy and Grace,
I will search no more.
Done is the chase....

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                                         Gloom and Doom

                                        Dark clouds veil the sun
                                 Grim darkness spreads all around-
                                            Sign of  gloom and doom....

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Summers’ over fall is here
Full blooms of color 
Cascading the trees
With artistic independence 
Reds and oranges
Leave me in awe
Such pleasure to see
It is as if my existence 
Has been refreshed 
A new world
Envelopes my soul
Casting over 
The gloom and doom...

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Coffee in morning
Listening to the news unfold
None stop gloom and doom

Soon, all too soon
The dismal news overwhelms
Must shut it down soon

In the afternoon
I listen to the blues playing
Just need to chill out

As the sun starts to set
I open a bottle of red wine
with the love of my life.

...

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Gloom and Doom
Pollution is in the air
Poison is everywhere
What a terrible scare
Read about the toxic air
Got to be aware
I fear, I have to share
Pollution is in the air, Oh what a scare
Dont you fear ' toxic air ' it's just not fair
I swear everyday we live in fear
I can no longer bear all this endangered air....

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Listen to poem:

how dare they try to pawn off
their ugliness on me
cast to the winds
without a care
their dark assumptions
and vile opinions
hypocrites and villains
often in sheep’s clothing

I close the door on
all that’s gloom and doom
sarcastic and destructive

how dare they rain
on my parade



AP: 3rd place 2022

Posted on October 29, 2020...

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I hear the sound of gun shot
and music.
Patriotic music
Doom and gloom music
It's Memorial Day
My husband is glued
to the TV watching 
because his father was
blown off three ships
More gloom and Doom music
The dog and I are curled up,
in the recliner,
trying to not listen to
the gunshots.
or the gloom and doom music.
It filters in anyway...

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Sprung buds strung along branches burst into bloom
Unsung, a tad early, unheralded sly petals plume
A spurt and squirt of color to break winter's gloom and doom
Like the dabs of paint squeezed from tubes on brushes abloom
To paint a mantle cloak, donned each Spring, as a many-colored costume
To blot out Winter's chills, before coat is shed in Summer's cauldron spume...

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I have to let it go.
It's not a workingman's truck, too pretty
but it is still a sweet ride.

Pain at the pump,
not getting any richer just older.
I got to bite the bullet,
squeeze into a squeezer.
I see a small hatchback in my future.

My wife puts on that face,
you know the one
"gloom and doom." She mouths silently,
and of course, I can see
she don't mean it....

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It won' be for things you've done,
that God turns you away.
But for the thing you left undone,
that seals your fate that day.

there is forgiveness in God for sin,
no insurmountable task.
Your wretched soul won't enter in,
because you did not ask.

Our life need not be gloom and doom,
nor heart a colored hue.
While many have come there is still room,
at God's cross for you.
...

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There are some who loathe others' success,
And others who malevolent malice profess.
Some don't smile while others rejoice,
They feel elevated in death and shrill voice,
While others are afflicted by the world's woes,
Whether its their friends or their foes.

What then shall we say of this banal breed,
That prays that gloom and doom
May befall those of blessed and humble deed?
This we may leave to the Author of Truth!...

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There are some who loathe others' success,
And others who malevolent malice profess.
Some don't smile while others rejoice,
They feel elevated in death and shrill voice,
While others are afflicted by the world's woes,
Whether its their friends or their foes.

What then shall we say of this banal breed,
That prays that gloom and doom
May befall those of blessed and humble deed?
This we may leave to the Author of Truth!...

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Exercise to exorcise
  the masquerade in your head
that profound-thought-parade
  vapidity in sly disguise

Exercise will clear the cobwebs
  from that brain of yours
Your cerebral spiders
  poetic weaving yearn to do

Exercise to break a sweat
  to alter your stale mindset
From darkness, gloom and doom
  Fresh new flowers start to bloom

Exercise may not be a panacea
  but it helps unleash vibrant new ideas...

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I heard an interesting analogy to covid and our mortality. "escaping covid is like running from the sun." Obviously we all know that this can't be done. You can't totally avoid it, no matter what you wear, as long as the virus permeates the air. We may run from the sun. We may run from the moon but this virus keeps sending it's gloom and doom. Living out these days in between, thankful that vaccines are coming on the scene....

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Today the clouds have a purple hue,
Not like yesterday when they were blue.
Does the purple hue bring gloom and doom,
Or does it imbue a hint of pink in view?
 
The clouds have flattened,
And lost their cumulus shape.
Now exhibiting a lenticular view,
Still exposing the purple hue.
 
 
It appears something could be hidden,
Inside the disc-shaped cloud.
Could it be something from afar,
Just visiting to see how we are?...

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Spider bat in skeleton form travels through the night.
Waiting for the gloom and doom to feel just right.
There is a tension that grows to a tremendous height.
He floats into view flashing a sheen of sheer delight.

Oh my! What a sight! Yells a ghost with a light.
Is it a spider bat in skeleton form? Asks my Uncle Might.
Yes, for sure! And he is all right, says a ghoul named Sight.
It is a crazy observation even on Halloween night!...

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I am broken;
        decayed lying in a cold tomb-
      Collapsing fragments of raw words spoken
        bestowed much gloom and doom.
  O, I shatter when I dream of angels on high,
  fearing the break down of what I cannot deny.
    I cry with my head to my thigh-
  O, I crumble…falling into tears awoken.



Date written: June 10, 2019
For the contest,   Writing Challenge, June 2019, Crumbling Rhyme 
Sponsor, Dear Heart...

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Sun's life is long, but ends
We're immortal! This race pretends
In this sanguine world
The Jolly Roger's now unfurled
Corybantic, our fate
Sundial's shadow is marking late
The Great War is now past
The mad globe paralyzed at last
This unweeded garden
Awaiting the Royal Pardon
Gloom and doom ride the broom
Where the vultures disturb the tomb
The blind shall lead the blind
To a dank swamp of empty mind
Foul fiends who need glasses
Sell Anarchy to the masses...

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Summer’s over
fall gone past
the sun’s officially retired
gloom and doom
greyfulness
dreary days
the world is in decay
slowing down
finding time
for introspection
almost anxious
for a sprinkling
of the white stuff
till what joy again
when the sun
decides to bless us
with its gilded glow



AP: Honorable Mention 2022

Submitted on February 2, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (FEB 2) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  RANKED 1ST

Originally posted on November 5, 2019...

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What Kinds of Poems do People with Bi-Polar Disorder Write?
What kind of poems do people with bi-polar disorder write?
Are they up and down? Down and up? Down, down, down, down, DOWN.
Then up, up, up, up, up UP?

Are they more likely to write poetry on a manic-filled day
or a day of gloom and doom? They get depressed, don’t they?
It is something I think of sometimes.

But I do not dwell on it.
It is not something I lose sleep over.
I have other things that help me with that....

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Listen to poem:

Feeling sluggish, shelled.
Lithely lingering in the dust and grime.
Palette grey and dull, devoid of crisp bright hues,
Brushes all furry, frayed, blunt, incapable of fine detail.
Apathy and complacency palls to gloom and doom in my room.
Inactivity and being non-committal, chokes the creative urge, to be stillborn.
But then, words and poetry flood into the brain during sleepless nights.
There's no stopping it. 
Its spell, dispels the squashes, and quells the squishes to splats....

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