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#41 GeddyLeefan2112

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Posted 27 April 2012 - 12:56 AM

I figured I'd bust this badboy out since this is a dark poetry thread. I wrote this when I was probably about 16, so you'll forgive it if it isn't the best.

The Fountain

Beyond the trees,
beyond the night.
Beyond my fears,
beneath the moonlight.
What is this curious
object that is so forsaken?
What power lies in it,
that I can awaken?
In the cover of night,
I flee to the place
where lies the fountain,
with essence I embrace.
The water flows gently
down to the pool,
as if inviting me over,
with water so cool.
I, furtively, walk in
and let the water steep
my body into a timeless
and entrancing sleep.
I feel myself being submerged,
but I cannot awaken.
I choke and sputter
as away I am taken.
Deep in the pool,
I reach a depth unheard
and when looking at the surface,
one would think absurd.
In my mind,
images are shown,
of far off places,
and things unknown.
The fountain fades away,
and so does the pool.
I see mad dictators
and their iron fisted rule.
I see light hearted places,
with no troubles at all.
Disreguard for civilization,
shall be their downfall.
I see the future,
I see that past.
Races that will spread,
and kingdoms that won't last.
I see the end of the world
and by own death.
It passes as the visions end
and I take my last breath.
Drowned...


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#42 Nate2112

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Posted 27 April 2012 - 10:33 AM

QUOTE (GeddyLeefan2112 @ Apr 27 2012, 12:56 AM)
I figured I'd bust this badboy out since this is a dark poetry thread. I wrote this when I was probably about 16, so you'll forgive it if it isn't the best.

The Fountain

Beyond the trees,
beyond the night.
Beyond my fears,
beneath the moonlight.
What is this curious
object that is so forsaken?
What power lies in it,
that I can awaken?
In the cover of night,
I flee to the place
where lies the fountain,
with essence I embrace.
The water flows gently
down to the pool,
as if inviting me over,
with water so cool.
I, furtively, walk in
and let the water steep
my body into a timeless
and entrancing sleep.
I feel myself being submerged,
but I cannot awaken.
I choke and sputter
as away I am taken.
Deep in the pool,
I reach a depth unheard
and when looking at the surface,
one would think absurd.
In my mind,
images are shown,
of far off places,
and things unknown.
The fountain fades away,
and so does the pool.
I see mad dictators
and their iron fisted rule.
I see light hearted places,
with no troubles at all.
Disreguard for civilization,
shall be their downfall.
I see the future,
I see that past.
Races that will spread,
and kingdoms that won't last.
I see the end of the world
and by own death.
It passes as the visions end
and I take my last breath.
Drowned...

  ohmy.gif

Outstanding!

#43 GeddyLeefan2112

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Posted 27 April 2012 - 11:37 PM

QUOTE (Nate2112 @ Apr 27 2012, 10:33 AM)
QUOTE (GeddyLeefan2112 @ Apr 27 2012, 12:56 AM)
I figured I'd bust this badboy out since this is a dark poetry thread. I wrote this when I was probably about 16, so you'll forgive it if it isn't the best.

The Fountain

Beyond the trees,
beyond the night.
Beyond my fears,
beneath the moonlight.
What is this curious
object that is so forsaken?
What power lies in it,
that I can awaken?
In the cover of night,
I flee to the place
where lies the fountain,
with essence I embrace.
The water flows gently
down to the pool,
as if inviting me over,
with water so cool.
I, furtively, walk in
and let the water steep
my body into a timeless
and entrancing sleep.
I feel myself being submerged,
but I cannot awaken.
I choke and sputter
as away I am taken.
Deep in the pool,
I reach a depth unheard
and when looking at the surface,
one would think absurd.
In my mind,
images are shown,
of far off places,
and things unknown.
The fountain fades away,
and so does the pool.
I see mad dictators
and their iron fisted rule.
I see light hearted places,
with no troubles at all.
Disreguard for civilization,
shall be their downfall.
I see the future,
I see that past.
Races that will spread,
and kingdoms that won't last.
I see the end of the world
and by own death.
It passes as the visions end
and I take my last breath.
Drowned...

ohmy.gif

Outstanding!

Thank you!  biggrin.gif

I'm quite fond of it, though I haven't written any poetry in a long time.

I guess all my teenage angst dried up.

#44 GeddyLeefan2112

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Posted 27 April 2012 - 11:44 PM

Okay fine. I've been fueled. Here's some more. I wrote this when I was 18.

I wrote this one in parts.

Part one:

Struck,

like the fawn...

collapsed in the darkness.

Battered, broken

crumpled, beaten.

Between the bright beams of light

reflected

coldly on the road.


Part two:

Just like the fawn

my eyes...

glaze over.

My lungs...

void.

Blind to the night.

Immune

to feeling.


Part three:

I can feel

callous eyes...

watching.

Through the frosted glass

it seems unreal.

The fawn's plight...

just...

nothing.


Part four:

I can...

pick myself

back up.

Battered,

broken,

but not beaten.

Dazzled,

blinded,

confused

between the bright beams of light

dashing back and forth

through the cold twilight.


Part five:

I am stunned.

Amazed.

Dumbfounded.

I limp.

I stumble.

I crawl along the road.

The cold pavement

beneath my fingertips

mirroring your feelings.

You cast

a stare so deadly

it strikes me through

the heart

as if hate were

tangible.


#45 barney_rebel

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Posted 28 April 2012 - 08:27 PM

Battery Life

Her eyelids are blue
victim of words
victim of scars
All those years how she knew
guilty of all his crimes
battered and bruised
Throughout sour times

That day she felt strength
The throbbing pain
of her sprained wrist
Devil asleep - her eyes gleamed
Laying soundly beside her
Drowned them both with kerosine
and set their bodies on fire

-B Lee

#46 t2s

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Posted 15 June 2012 - 08:39 PM

Bad Omens by Brittany Murphy

I once was a Hollywood power.
Compared to a cute little flower.
Pills to stay skinny,
shit that's too many,
I'll just go relax in the shower.

#47 Tick

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Posted 27 June 2012 - 03:14 PM

The Grave

Sitting there, by the grave
Feeling quite alone
Grampa isn't coming back
He's in his resting home
In the light or in the dark
No one ever knows
The pain for those they leave behind
Is torture for there soul
So whether there is life or not
Beyond the great beyond
The answer will not come to us
Until our final hour
And if we wait and wonder
We drive ourselves insane
For what is rotting in the ground
Is not important today

#48 Imaginos

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Posted 03 July 2012 - 09:33 AM

You want dark poetry huh?
In that case, I present "Darkness" written by Lord Byron in July 1816...

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour
They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food.
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again;--a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought--and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails--men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress--he died.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died--
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful--was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless--
A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd
They slept on the abyss without a surge--
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon their mistress had expir'd before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them--She was the Universe.


#49 Tick

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Posted 07 July 2012 - 07:38 AM

Inspired by the guy who stands at the bottom of the exit ramp everyday.

Oh to be be a skid row bum
Live in the streets, drink cheap rum
Beg for my meals, never shower or groom
The world your palace, its an awfully big room
Having one of those cardboard signs
Painted all pretty, looks divine
Says he'll work for food, but that's not the truth
Only wants money, and the keep his last tooth
So if you see him on the corner, don't look the other way
Don't feel guilty, cause you have a place to stay
He might clean up his act, and find himself a job
Probably won't happen, will just continue to rob

p.s. If you are going to stand there begging for money, ya might want to take that f***ing cigarette out of you mouth. Probably a bad idea.

Edited by Tick, 07 July 2012 - 07:43 AM.


#50 Tick

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Posted 17 September 2012 - 01:01 PM

Domestic Abuse

Dad had too much to drink again and anything can set him off.  Mom makes a comment that angers dad and the nightmare begins. The young boy barely 8 years old watches in horror as his father throws his mom to the floor.
He kicks her in the head then reaches down to grab her hair. She starts to scream as he drags her across the room. Moments later come a knock at the door.
The police stand there staring the father down. Your neighbor called and said its sounds like there is a problem going on over here. Is everything ok?
The father calmly responds. Sure officer, we just had a bit of an argument that got a little loud. Were sorry you had to come out.
The police exit. The nightmare continues. Maybe its over for the day. Maybe something will again happen later.
The cuts are deep. The scars are permanent. Hopefully the boy is strong enough to rise above it all. There is no way to know just what the repercussions will be long term. He lays his head down on his pillow. He closes his eyes. He is at peace for now. Tomorrow is another day.
      

#51 gangsterfurious

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Posted 17 September 2012 - 02:44 PM

I present to you a pathetic break-up poem. Written by yours truly

----------------------------------------
You used to be beautiful
And we were so young
So stupid
Or at least I was
Giving you so much of my time
And moments that don't come back
Years have gone by so quickly that I cannot remember much
But you always find your way back into my thoughts
You still hurt me
Every day

----------------------------------------
Yay break-ups!  cheer.gif  

#52 Tick

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Posted 09 October 2012 - 03:04 PM

This isn't dark but it is poetry...

Sitting in the darkness, listening to the sounds
Of madness that is brewing, deep inside your mind

The calm before the storm, beginning of the end
To fake a sense of sanity has become a fashion trend

Only when we are willing, to see reality
Will we ever have a chance, to have some clarity

The choices that we make define the path were on
The road can split and leave you helplessly bound

Choose the left or choose the right, which way should you go
Open your eyes to see the light, only then will you ever know


#53 librarian

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Posted 10 October 2012 - 11:46 AM

Morrissey was on the Colbert Report the other day!  I was like, Wha??? ohmy.gif  ohmy.gif  ohmy.gif  

#54 Tick

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Posted 25 February 2013 - 03:56 PM

When one wanders through the dark recesses of one’s own mind the twisted thoughts of perversion eclipse any fictional idea ever written. In the darkness we see far more than in the light. The imagery can manifest to reality and then the danger really begins. Trapped in a vortex of deception the things we think to be illusion are the things we set in motion to destroy. Unknowingly we hide behind the mask of sanity while the madness spills onto everything we touch. We fool others primarily because we have fooled ourselves and the lies we perpetrate are the truths we conceal. Only when it crumbles down around us do we recognize the lies in disguise. Beware of the well that leads us to hell, as we calmly devour our daily bread.

#55 AnalyticalEngine

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Posted 25 February 2013 - 07:14 PM

It's obvious that all poetry, when broken down, is about death...

(No its not that's just what pretentious and misguided High School English teachers say)

#56 Boots

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Posted 10 September 2017 - 04:40 PM

THE DEVIL AND PEYTON MANNING

Peyton Manning was a behemoth;
He was never a pretty boy.
He dominated the field for years
And governed it like a viceroy.

Peyton was All American,
The burly leader of the pack.
Forever the fan favorite,
He was the people's quarterback.

He had everything he ever wanted,
A great mansion and a charming wife.
But for some reason he still wanted more;
There was something missing from his life.

His coach and his fans were relentless;
Peyton heard their phantom screams.
The clock was ticking away for him
Along with his hopes and dreams.

He tried to find some allies in Denver
And another Super Bowl ring.
He was supposed to be the game changer;
They thought he could do anything.

He drank a can of Heineken
As he sat on his patio deck.
The Dark One appeared before him;
He placed his hands around Peyton's neck.

The Devil shed droplets of sulfur
On the patio where he leaned.
In spite of his large, bulky stature,
Peyton was frightened by the fiend.

He said, "I know you, Peyton;
I can sense your greatest desire.
It dwells deep inside your heart
And burns violently like a fire."

Peyton asked, "How can you know me?
And where, pray tell, did you come from?"
To the dark beast who gripped his neck
Who could send him to Kingdom Come.

"I know more than the eyes can see,
And I can hear your innermost thoughts,"
Said the Devil in his terse way
While Peyton's stomach was tied in knots.

The Devil said, "What you covet most is
Another shot at the Super Bowl.
I have the power to help you succeed,
But you will have to give up your soul."

Peyton reflected for a long time
As the Devil relaxed his death grip.
He wondered if he needed his soul
And if his team were a sinking ship.

Then after much consideration,
Peyton made a deal with the jinn.
In his next season with the Broncos,
He would trade his soul for the win.

His game improved at lightning speed
As if he were a young buck again.
He rushed the field like a soldier,
And he had the strength of twenty men.

As the Dark One had promised him,
Denver made it to the final round.
Peyton was hailed as a hero;
A finer quarterback couldn't be found.

His team played like never before;
They put their opponents to shame.
The Broncos owned the football field,
And they won the Super Bowl game.

Peyton hoisted the trophy above his head,
But the Dark One returned to collect his soul.
The crowd gasped at the horror before their eyes,
This ghastly conclusion to the Super Bowl.

The Devil's cloak billowed behind him;
His glowing eyes and horns were a sight.
Black smoke filled the air all around him;
He stole the entire show that night.

It was quite an unfortunate ending
For a glorious, eventful day.
The Devil latched onto Peyton's helmet,
And then he carried him away.

[April 27, 2013]

#57 Boots

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Posted 10 September 2017 - 04:41 PM

THE KNIGHT'S EXIT

He used to rule the world
So many years ago
Then it overwhelmed him
A brutal, crushing blow

His reign suddenly ended
Defeat swallowed him whole
The loss was devastating
It burned inside his soul

He left the match that day
And was embarrassed by the score
Somehow he'd lost his way
It wasn't in him anymore

He retreated to his castle
Where he collected his thoughts
He wondered where he'd gone wrong
And tried to connect the dots

The knight announced his exit
He decided not to return
He was finished dueling
His career entered a nocturne

He brooded for many months
And really let himself go
He found no purpose in life
Except to watch the wind blow

One day out of boredom
He picked it up again
No one was keeping score
No records were broken

The pressure had vanished
But his talent had returned
He found his swing again
His misfortune was adjourned

Then before he knew it
The knight was back in the game
He'd been gone for ages
But his stroke remained the same

He was still a hero
One they'd never forget
And soon he realized
He wasn't finished yet

[December 4, 2012]

#58 Boots

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Posted 10 September 2017 - 04:42 PM

DEATH OF A SCIENTIST

He adored physics and math
When he started at college
All his professors had faith
He wouldn't misuse his knowledge

Theirs was a sacred trust
A tunnel without light
The world would someday end
Because of their hindsight

He played with bright chemicals
They were a source of seduction
He studied Bohr and Einstein
And weapons of mass destruction

He found some plutonium
To build a nuclear bomb
He hid most of his secrets
In an old CD-ROM

He worked day and night
To fulfill his sinister plan
But his plot was foiled
By a mysterious gentleman

He headed to the mountains
To gather fuel for his lab
He packed his leather briefcase
Then he phoned for a taxicab

His ride was rather tardy
The cab was an hour late
He worried for the driver
And wondered about his fate

He paced the concrete pavement
And looked at his watch constantly
His head was filled with tension
When his ride arrived finally

The scientist saw his cab
It swayed wildly on the road
There was no driver inside
Suddenly did it explode

His comrades built a mausoleum
Their purpose was intensified
They later resumed his work for him
A month after the day he died

[January 13, 2012]

#59 Boots

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Posted 10 September 2017 - 04:43 PM

THE LAKE

The children saw it that summer
When they waded through the lake
It was over seven feet tall
With teeth as long as a rake

Its body was covered with slime
Dark and slippery as the mud
Its eyes were bright green and glowing
And its tongue the color of blood

They told their parents of the beast
It was a fantastic revelation
But of course no one believed them
They blamed it on their imagination

A day after the discovery
The youngest child disappeared
His parents worried to no end
And the worst was what they feared

The other children were grounded
It was safer to stay inside
They picked up their toy cars and dolls
In their playroom they went to hide

Their mother patrolled the cabin
As the day turned into night
Her husband had gone into town
It was a careless oversight

The firewood burned steadily
It crackled and it roared
She watched the flames dance wildly
Their movement struck a chord

Her head throbbed so relentlessly
As she kept her midnight watch
She took her analgesic pills
And she chased them down with scotch

She fell asleep shortly after three
But her husband never returned
Her children woke her in the morning
After all the kindling had burned

They decided to search the entire grounds
Around the cabin and the lake
Determined to find the missing ones
Their grief and fear kept them awake

As the group reached the pier
They saw the monster again
It raised its ugly head
And scared the little children

Their mother tried hard to protect them
She brandished a hatchet at the thing
She hit the creature on its shoulder
Before it dourly began sinking

Blood poured from the gaping wound
As the monster howled in pain
It lunged forward clumsily
And looked at them with disdain

After the beast sank below the surface
They searched for the rest of the day
They encountered their father and brother
And carried their bodies away

They drove home the morning after
And held a funeral service
There was an investigation
Into the monster that caused this

The lake was swept completely
This lasted till the end of autumn
The police found the creature
The beast was lying at the bottom

The family never recovered
From the pain of their heartache
No one could forget the horror
Of the creature from the lake

[February 5, 2012]

#60 Boots

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Posted 10 September 2017 - 04:45 PM

FALL FROM GRACE

He was once a man of promise
They saw a bright future in his eyes
He would have made a great leader
His entire career was on the rise

Then he was involved in a scandal
There was no end in sight
It was impossible to amend
No way to make it right

He exercised poor judgment
It was obvious he crossed the line
He violated the code
Eventually he had to resign

Everyone shunned him far and wide
And his life became more grim
His woes got progressively worse
His wife and children left him

People ridiculed him on the street
Children threw garbage at his head
One day he began to wonder
If he would be better off dead

His situation became hopeless
There was just nothing he could do
He couldn't run away from his past
His unsuccessful little coup

The postman always came to visit
Before noon almost everyday
He saw the mail accumulating
And he smelled the scent of decay

Then he called up the authorities
They appeared rapidly on the scene
They opened the door with a crow bar
In their most authoritative mien

They were overcome by the stench
Their canines led them to the source
They found many prescription drugs
And a petition for divorce

The dogs ran up the staircase
Attracted by the smell of flesh
They stopped beside the bathtub
The death was relatively fresh

His bloody cadaver dangled from the shower
They found his note on a shelf
But he committed political suicide
Long before he hung himself

There was no funeral for him
He was cremated in a secret place
They never forgave his misdeeds
The catastrophic day he fell from grace  

[February 20, 2012]




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