Dark Poetry Thread

[CMWriter]

^

A poem for politicians?

[Nate2112]

QUOTE (CMWriter @ Dec 5 2011, 02:37 PM)

^ A poem for politicians?

[An Enemy Without]

Darkness really sucks

I mean, it really sucks bad

I hate the darkness

 

 

 

Take haiku's?

[CMWriter]

"Gone"

My friend is gone.

He has been

wrestled;

wrenched;

torn from my grasp.

I have failed him.

And now my best friend;

my comrade;

my brother-in-arms...

is gone.

 

(...I wrote a companion piece. )

 

"Lies"

Lies,

the voice whispers into my ear,

Your entire life

has been nothing but lies.

I struggle and I fight and I toil against it;

to my very last breath;

to my very death;

and yet it still whispers,

Lies, lies.

 

So I challenge it:

 

How,

I ask the voice in my ear,

How has this life

been a lie?

I remember my battles and I remember my victories;

my comrades;

my brothers;

and yet it still whispers,

Lies, lies.

 

It replies:

 

This,

the voice hisses in my ear,

This is how your life

has been naught but a lie.

And it tells me of my duties and my true loyalties;

where I stand;

what I am;

and it whispers again,

Lies, lies.

 

I tell it:

 

No!

I yell in reply,

I cannot believe this life has been a lie!

Yet I remember those years and my allies and enemies;

where I stood (stand);

what I was (am);

and then I believe its

Lies, lies.

Edited December 11, 2011 by CMWriter

[Tick]

Milder air moving through Times Square

Animals sleeping in their underwear.

Clowns busy on the seesaw

Animal crackers in the streets

The world may end today

[Tick]

Wounded clowns roam the darkness searching for solace

Their evil ever present to them all

Hungry wolves look to devour

To fill themselves with their filthy blend of colors

All one can do sometimes and turn the crank and hope the Jack does not emerge

Fear not the ones who hide behind these masks

The horn will soon honk for them

[Tick]

Pickled egg sitting on the shelf alone in a jar of vinegar

Rotting away like an old man in heat

Red as a beet but not embarrassed

He waits for someone to take a bite

Ending his long exile in solitude and suffocation

Edited January 13, 2012 by Tick

[Nate2112]

I died

[Mr. Not]

She laughs as I cry

oh why oh why

so sad that i could die

she laughs as i cry...

[Finding IT]

In the end I turned away, back

inside where it was warm while

the wind assaulted my home. The shutters

safely drawn, I started slowly up

the steps while the house darkend

with night and glowing firecoal fell to ash.

 

[Tick]

Not really dark but...

 

Time is time, we leave behind

We lose the things we never find

Do you know what I mean

Life is life, its not in the grand scheme

In the morning you wash your face

But in the mirror remains a trace

Find a way to break the spell

Life becoming just a shell

A days a day, its all the same

The way you lives a crying shame

Don't forget a man who's wise

Will have the vision to look through his own eyes

[Nate2112]

QUOTE (Ovningskora @ Jan 14 2012, 02:17 AM)

She laughs as I cry oh why oh why so sad that i could die she laughs as i cry...

[Mr. Not]

QUOTE (Nate2112 @ Apr 25 2012, 11:45 AM)

QUOTE (Ovningskora @ Jan 14 2012, 02:17 AM) She laughs as I cry oh why oh why so sad that i could die she laughs as i cry... Hey man! Those were dark times for me

[Nate2112]

QUOTE (Ovningskora @ Apr 25 2012, 04:46 PM)

QUOTE (Nate2112 @ Apr 25 2012, 11:45 AM) QUOTE (Ovningskora @ Jan 14 2012, 02:17 AM) She laughs as I cry oh why oh why so sad that i could die she laughs as i cry... Hey man! Those were dark times for me ...oops

[Shredder2]

The sky went from blue to black.

She told me "Let's be friends."

I replied "Okay, I guess."

My life was never back on track.

 

I can't simply pull magic from a hat.

She told me "You're so cute."

I replied with a poem to her.

She read it, then said "What the hell was that?"

[GeddyLeefan2112]

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...

 

[Nate2112]

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...

 

Outstanding!

[GeddyLeefan2112]

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...   Outstanding! Thank you!   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.

[GeddyLeefan2112]

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.

 

[barney_rebel]

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

[t2s]

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.

[Tick]

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

[Imaginos]

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.

[Tick]

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 July 7, 2012 by Tick

[Tick]