Dark Poetry Thread

my skin just doesn't feel right.

I tried smoothing away the worry, with rest
from emotional tirades to testing my first steps
all over again. I elasticized back and rejoined
the river, from happiness into nothingness.

My cyclone of feelings broke forth, fighting
dreams, dressed down in invisible visions.
They lie naked, under cells of doubt and worry.
But love, remains. Burning in her lust for life.

Flowing, flourishing, she took over, made me
step up and recant every motion, while giving
new life to false skin, who's foundation
is anything but honorable.



...
 
Read if you want, post if you want, don't if you don't want :cool:

A stranger again

Oh to sink into a numbed abyss
of conciliation,
to yearning for amity of mind and body,
body and soul,
to dream of dreaming,
long for peace and tranquility
away from undesired obsession,
erratic fornication of the mind.

Seeking sovereignty from political turmoil
of unjustly magnifications of emotions
rendering me emotionless.
I sob without pain
yet agonized defeat screams
my name in multitudes
of frenzied gesticulations.

"Yeah though I walk through the valley of death..."
echoes wearily within
seeking comfort
yet disclosing confusion,
dehabilitated exposure to torment...
once previous titillation.

Madness claims my state
of mind though still I struggle
to contain myself within
expectancies of habitual living.

Shall I crawl, because
for I can no longer walk
towards the pews of purity?
I seek your permission
for I question acceptance within,
incapable of comprehending
where the boundaries
begins or ends.
I am a stranger again




Just wanted to BUMP this thread. It's been a while since anyone has passed by and it might be a good spot for someone to write .... It's helped me quiet a bit in the past ...

Hoping ya have a great write ~~


:rose:
 
Just wanted to BUMP this thread. It's been a while since anyone has passed by and it might be a good spot for someone to write .... It's helped me quiet a bit in the past ...

Hoping ya have a great write ~~


:rose:
I've been in a dark (actually, darker than usual) place and writing so much dark poetry that I'm disturbing myself with it. So this may be a good place for it until I lighten up. I'll move a few of my new dark poems in here from the suddenly thread.
 
This one is dark but humorous.

Ways to Leave This World

He shoos her old body into the cellar
to fetch her death. Most of his jar
labels have faded and she wonders if she's foolish
to look for pulsing gel black, like in a horror's

B movie. Death might be a uranium
beauty queen, a glow
flooding the glass inside. Mayhem
in a tiara
could break out and cover
her flesh with a sash of sores.

God should mark these things
with either Scraped into a Bodybag
or Found Beneath a Young Man.
 
I slip into my black dress with ease
its the only easy thing i’ve done today
I want my makeup back
the the white cream and baby powder
the black lipstick
the clumpy mascara
the shadows that embodied mine
I curse that I threw away this comfort

I want to wallow in my emo state
to goth it up
I wonder if this mall has seen
home seems so far away
days of unabashed glory in the pain
I'm too old for it now
too wise to give in
I know it will pass
but now

now it just hurts
 
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don't ask


if you do, I'll have to be honest
I might say something, anything
that will make you look at me differently.
a china doll made of sand, each grain
drifts away, leaving - dead doe eyes
on a pebbled beach - staring back, my

emptiness pours over the ground, touching
toes of happy people,
watch as the turn, trod away
not needing the drama nor the what's
new - for nothing is. old consumes
contaminates each memory - don't ask
unless you seek - truth ...




...
 
last breath

I know that this is too little, too late
So hard to push past the tears and the fears
Please dearest one, do not negate
You're all I had for so many years
Receiving the hit I went flying, trip
Stumble, you're watching...embarrassing slip
Never meant to return to you this way
I love you is all I can bear to say
Devil lurks in the shadows, He aims at my face
I duck down swiftly - you're hit in my place
So much to tell you, so much you don't know
Don't leave me my love, I can't bear you to go
But time has run out, red pools on the ground
Taste your last breath, eyes close without sound
 
I want to do murder
just once in my life
see how it feels
that all out expression
of hate, finality letting it all go,
What freedom, such joy,
the planning, the trap.
Exquisite almost orgasmic desire
till the deed is done,
pleasure reliving each detail.
 
As it can come to you

Out of bed, I raise for the dead
The long lost,
Calling.
I tread outside
Hit with bitter cold,
Razor sharp snow
Nicking my skin. I close the door behind me
and follow the sunken footprints
Left behind.
I cloak my head, stay out of site
Of wolves that howl in blue moon light
Through the labyrinth of trees
I follow…my head held low
Until I read your epitaph
Wind rose,
powerful blow
filling the corners of the letters
written in stone.
With shaking hands
I pull out
Those words I wrote for you,
Revealing my shame,
How I ruined your name
And never returned…taking the blame.
Gust
Rips the letter
From my open hands…
Causing ascension to the tree tops.
Balancing
A spire,
close
As it can come to you.
 
The Monster Under The Bed Relocates

his accordion shadow extended
until decapitated by the gathered dark
instinctively he swallowed
remembered his mother holding his hand

deep breaths and slow steps
deep breaths and slow steps
she would say

at his shoulders the reaching dark
pulled in his second self with hurried gulps
he ignored the warning creaks of the stairs
the cool air that kissed his fingertips

deep breaths and slow steps
deep breaths and slow steps

he was completely inside it now
unable to separate it from him
at the last cry
of the last stair
he looked up into the daffodil light left behind

then the cold embraced him
he blinked at nothing
it changed from kiss to shiver
he focused on nothing

deep breaths and slow steps
deep breaths and slow steps

stood tombstone still
slowly the door closed
the stairs stayed silent
 
Question

Can we post critques or should that be done in PM? I really love some of these poems. I see many poems, but few thoughts by the readers.
I don't want to step on any toes being this is my first time here.
 
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As far as I know it's ok on this thread or you may want to go to 'Other chit chat' Don't worry lol if you do anything wrong someone will kindly (but firmly) head you in the right direction! :D
 
Other Chit Chat?

As far as I know it's ok on this thread or you may want to go to 'Other chit chat' Don't worry lol if you do anything wrong someone will kindly (but firmly) head you in the right direction! :D
Thank you, UnderYourSpell. I will keep that in mind. I did not want to talk about anything else except the poems I read here. I will take the other stuff on my mind to the other threads.
I hope to post some of my own poems one day.
 
Sorry

Errrrrr yes but is it dark?
Of course it was dark; I don’t carry a flashlight when I 'dive'. My technique in the dark, or light, has rated 12 out of 10 before so I am not there to sightsee, but it is a LOVELY sight from that angle.

BTW, the 'MUNCH' was supposed to be the dark part. I wouldn’t “Munch” while I dive due to the sensitive nature of the 'dark' place unless someone asked. It was suppose to cause you (and other females) to cringe. A very dark feelings for a dark area.

I will try better next time.
 
I bestow upon you the title of Muff Diver of the Year ......... *applause applause*
murmff
murmff


Sorry! My mouth of full. Let me try that again:

Thank you.
Thank you.
It is quite an honor especially without seeing me in action!

*Takes a deep breath*
 
Living With The Dead

A friend reminded me of this poem, and it seems to fit here.

I wake in a cocoon of down,
light feathers bound to earth
in a skin of cotton.
In death there is freedom creation never imagined.
My feet slip into the soft cry of animal skins,
their coolness takes my heat and gives it back
grateful to be alive again.

We live the world of the dead,
with a debt owed to relish and enjoy them;
to arise as vampires and drink the blood of coffee beans
while the electric coffin hums a requiem,
in preservation of the flesh of animal and vegetable.

Memories of sacrifice haunt me.
I take extra steps to avoid my leather chair,
and squirm uncomfortable in plastic seating.
I rise, to reverently circle the wooden rocker,
whose sweet creaks cry of chainsaws and mills,
dismembered bones crucified to cradle me.

Dying each day.
Coming closer to that which I consume
I make a truce with all the dead things,
a promise to one day join them, add to their value.
Now modern necromancer I conjure lustful
in the rocker, by the window,
hearing whispers of tombed poets
written on crushed trees bound by tanned skin.
Rocking comfortably in the arms of the dead.
 
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Errrrrr yes but is it dark?

Hey UnderYourSpell,
Is this dark enough?
I also have one that rhymes!

Dark, Damp place
of pleasure and pain
four rounded walls that feels slick
touch gently
Now rough
River washing out
Same river allowing in
I feel the urgency to leave
I am compelled to return
No light without pain
No pain without light
 
longing for youth
I'm left
starring at
the portrait
hanging of
our Adams Apple
family tree
above the tele
that flickers.
I shut out
the absurd
noise
bouncing off the walls
screaming random
black and white dots now
piercing across the glass
grab my attention
you see that
desperate I am
to change channels
you give
me
the
remote
so
I can
 
I like it. What is the "1-54" at the bottom?
longing for youth
I'm left
starring at
the portrait
hanging of
our Adams Apple
family tree
above the tele
that flickers.
I shut out
the absurd
noise
bouncing off the walls
screaming random
black and white dots now
piercing across the glass
grab my attention
you see that
desperate I am
to change channels
you give
me
the
remote
so
I can
 
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