Dark Poetry Thread

The Abyss

The Abyss

Alone in the dark, I reach for you,
take you by the hand,
follow me into the abyss,
never let me forget,
the sound of your voice,
the feel of your touch,
hold me close to you,
my body wrapped in yours;
Sins yet to be commited,
mine and yours for the taking,
follow me into the abyss,
never let me forget,
the reason I can't let go,
this darkness inside me,
yours to share forever;
I can't die alone,
take this knife from me,
plunge it deep inside,
carving my name in your soul,
follow me into the abyss,
never let me go,
you are mine for the taking,
lovers till the death.

The Dark Side Of Me

As I lay in the Dark Awake
sleep I silently fake
My mind sparks a thought
For my body sleep is sought

I dwell on what I've done
continplate, "Shall I run"
or face the one
I did wrong.

The clawing in my mind
scratching for a sign
not blame darkness for being blind
answers, I search to find

The quest of soul
an ultimate goal
to be fullfilled before I'm old
my lust was bold

I'll keep my thoughts
inner concious fought
my mind that bark
the side of me that is dark

This is one work i wrote many years ago, then i translated to english in 1997. Reading it again i had to admit that the time passes but the circle of time always comes to the same feelings, so it is like i wrote it yesterday. I revised it then put here - to be dark it is dark..... i think it fits to this thread...


Atoms, Countries and Treasuries (revised)

At my eyes it was only a desert land,
neither rocks did have their shadow.
The night was without a star,
only a walk in the thirsty of an endless minute.
Waiting for the Sun.
Yes, but when the sun was there,
at the golden gates of dawn,
it was the hotness of the empty desert taking my heart away.
Tired pilgrim,
neither pains nor happiness did you know as your food:
a tired youngman, unknown to himself.
Ah, unknown borders of a gone happiness,
love has changed from its confused image,
a game, or the thought of being Somebody;
love as the way looking for ourselves.
Love, like a saucer full of secrets.
A snow ride in the white winter snow,
the air upon my face, not only tears.
I want to know, to know the new coming day,
to open my hands to the rain, to feel the sunrise upon me,
away; away from the desert of Time. Sand.
My hands full of sand, the fear of knowing;
the fear is like the sand that goes away from your hand!
Help me not to give a glance behind me,
I can't see the pain's waterfalls again,
the water that kills who we love.
Fear death by water.
A town in the stars, you can name me Mad:
golden walls, pretty faces of flowered images;
your scent, do you remember the Summer?
And the desert fields, born again in our songs?
You can name me Mad, I will win to the World!
A town in the water, I need to live again:
lighting walls, the future is in a tear of glass;
ah, how can I feel your love?
A kiss, feeling the warmth of a known glance at me.
Deja vu!
No! That's a petrified cloud, the shame of the defeat;
it is the harmony of a broken wall,
rock after rock, rolled down to the Ocean.
How can I leave that lifeless moments' cold,
the Death on a stone that’s unknown?
That's all a path between far away trees,
a dream, a rock in a flamed lake.
Dust. Seeing inside the days,
broken by an endless glance. Faster!
Something in the way.
But what's that sound? It moves.
It moves like the wings of the wind under my door;
but it's nothing, a gentle movement.
"Have you ever seen flowers making love?"
Smile - A bell's touch
should not always mean the birth of a world never yours!
Smile - "I like your scent"
Do you think we should be closer? CLOSER!
The hours are getting back to the past,
just one colour remains in my rhymes:
help me, help me not to give a glance behind me, never more!
Rocks. Shapeless rocks of a forgotten way;
I want to make them be alive again,
I want to see their happiness!
But give me some shadow, not immortal swords,
give me the sun, the real one:
I cannot keep breaking thousands of days
looking for the Absurd, the fear of a shame.
J'accuse, Tu mon frère, l'Homme!
And it is a mountain of ice,
that one that raised in the middle of the lake:
the sweetness of a dream, or the fear of a nightmare!
A mountain of ice,
it's a shining thought, and it strokes;
a wonderful, blue diamond,
the glance of one thousand furious eyes.
It's a boundless power indeed! "I saw!"
I saw the war between foes not known,
I saw Heroes dieing, and then returning to life.
Men and Supermen.
Sure, Heroes lost inside the faces of an awful prism,
imprisoned by a mirror, what are you looking for?
Here are the survivors from fratricidal wars:
"Everyone will have his Durazzo!"
Do not name me Caesar, do not name me a man;
my kingdom is not worth a thing more; only a light,
but it's lost in a mirror forever.
Do not call me a man; just Money,
or a pleasure from a body, possessed without love!
"But I’m fixing a hole in the sand we let go!"
The last words from a sighted,
the last prophet. But why?
Why did you tell me the Death was waiting,
when no one knew what else was life yet?
The last prophet:
to see the temples burning, longing to die,
to see men dieing with their eyes set on fire.
A new sun, an obscure galaxy,
just a little way to get into the mind;
yes, I heard the sounds from a petrified flower:
"Formidable hyperboles of chained lights" - It's Madness,
an Award for human nature.
Come, come with me.
"We will bought a house on the Thames"
"I will start to write, we will Live!"
Last dreams of a life with no rules,
last rattles of one brave expression.
"Do not talk to me. Do not look at me in that way, not now!"
Come, come with me.
Just a little bit alone.
And again, the Hope into a drop of glass,
the key to go into my flowers' garden.
Even if it's raining your eyes are my sun;
don’t answer me now, see me, don't cry.
Your wet hair, your love words;
Don’t answer me now, see me, don't cry.
"What are we going to do Tomorrow?" What?
Remember that Day.
To remember, remember to love,
and to love to have dreams: the future rises from one memory!
The memory of a day that is still being to come.
Ah, they are chained lights,
they are dogs without master, they are the lives
of free men; but where are they?
I will pay for my freedom; a challenge!
Old statues, the Life if they do want it;
"They do not want it!"
But with us is a sky of shining stars,
a true glance of love, an embrace into Love!
"You'll never get back without the Man's chalice!"
Then deserts too will be able to flower,
the azure for a dream, the sky for the Love,
till human voices wake us; and we’ll drown!
But will we drown between the ashes of a crystal wall?
A dream from which I cannot wake anymore.
Help me, I do not want to turn round;
Help me, I cannot turn round, never more.

Simplicity

White daisies bloom
eyes of simplicity
fluttered petal tears
withered, worn young
browned, curled inwards
defeat
from callused winds
scorching sun
alone in a field
hardened until one
then slow droop
dispersed drop
dim plunge
to succumb
within shrunken roots
and starved slugs

overshadowing
the old fresh salt lure
teasing pleasurable insight to draw
landscapes of lighthouses
craggy cliffs
mist spraying white
flouncing air
freedom tendrils tugged
and teased
kissing faces clean
with fresh scent of natures sea.

instead i lay curled
where waters worry stone
by the lip of seawall
tide turned to show bones
troubled light of passing spring
hovered with sunlight darkening
and in between
ribs writhed, sand colicky
sky empty, a blank slate
arroyo shifts, now a green gallery
with wind in whimsied whirl

To try not to understand
this agony within,
realign with furtive shift
steal out of its grasp.
Yet scars have healed
around its avaricious claws,
tightly weaved then fused
around each speared gash

Impaling...
Blood red dagger
sheathed in my warmth.
Quivering,
pleasure,
pain...
sweet liquid
pouring from within.
Ecstasy explodes
in a crimson haze
as the dagger is lovingly drawn from my body.
Surrendering everything
I succumb to myself
with a bittersweet smile.


My Poems & Stories...

Lost and Found

Bare seconds trickle by
Sweltering sighs turn inside out
Enrobing senses in forbidden hunger
Bent beyond will
Laid naked before probing eyes
Jaded Jane is startled into explicit realization
To be made over in your image of
Twisted pleasure and exquisite pain
And become more than common consumption...
Fulfillment is but a few words away
"Please, Sir."

This isn't heavy darkness, but it's what I have typed up.

Cold Tears

Times are difficult; worse then we see
I pride myself on fears, or courage do I lack

Does this loneliness follow my every move,
Or is it but reality I am destined to have

Why do I feel cold?
Banished by the fears of the world
Alone with my thoughts; visions through my mind
Stand alone, weak and I cry
Wishing for the end of all I love so dear
Let me move on let me retire
"I am a failure," a fool ‘tis what I am

This poem has no meaning
Just escape from my pain
Does not one person notice?
Me all alone, looking for answers
Crying till I die, praying my death is but cold and alone
Holding my hand; left not with remorse
Fall off the tracks; end of the line
Lying to myself; bitter cold I do find

One ray of light; overshadowed by the rain
Clouds of Grey rise deep within
And lost inside; overcast on my day

Night should fall early
Black all I wish to see,
The rays of mid-night
The future of cold believe,
Will end my experience
Bring back a passion for hate,
Alone I will stand
Tears run down from my eyes
Death be apart of me

Alone but I cry.

a pinch of valerian

when you visit my grave bring with you
an oil lamp or lantern and glass vial with lid
to carry back my feelings to your home

I am here at your feet buried and wrapped
tightly within a tunic of spanish moss
tendriled and snug against my face

can you breathe with me, feel my breath
bubble up warm from beneath the molded soil-
even the worms have feasted and gone

yet you remain,with just a pinch of valerian
you became my slave

Re: a pinch of valerian

normal jean said:

when you visit my grave bring with you
an oil lamp or lantern and glass vial with lid
to carry back my feelings to your home

I am here at your feet buried and wrapped
tightly within a tunic of spanish moss
tendriled and snug against my face

can you breathe with me, feel my breath
bubble up warm from beneath the molded soil-
even the worms have feasted and gone

yet you remain,with just a pinch of valerian
you became my slave

Click to expand...

Whoa!!!....good lord.....POST THIS!


Silent Midnight - new poem...check it out.

the House on Arant's Hill

shabby little house,built in a hurry
without good nails or wood
slapped together like a potter's shed
but-

it keeps out the water,
it keeps out the sun,
it keeps out everything
but the monster with the gun

Bill was a moody sort, his wife was Mary Sue
they had 4 kids and one on the way
the day Bill decided to shoot


rumors spread fast, small town, smaller minds
moonshine stills and Bill,
he had a guilt conscience but his wife was
a fine church going lady

the voices in his head finally took over
that trip Bill took to town,and he gave in-
went back up Saluda, to the little shabby house

it keeps out the water,
it keeps out the sun,
it keeps out everything
but the monster with the gun

Mary Sue met him , Molly in her arms
his face contorted as he bellowed,
revenuers in town
headed this way, damn you woman, damn you
was all he could manage to say

he picked up his shotgun, a double ought buck
herded his family to the back bedroom
but three lives were all he took

then it was up to the roof
little Bill, Beth and Mary Estelle
all a shiver, standing in the rain,
until the lawmen came

Bill looked wilder than usual,
this time no shine on his breath
the roof was stronger than anyone thought
cause not one fell to his death
and the children just stood there
waiting for daddy to fire
but the lawmen climbed up from the back
and took Bill down from the roof
then down from the hills and then to Bull Street
where he could hurt no one again

but Bill was resourceful and he stole
needles and whatever he could find
and one day when no one was looking, he left
teh hospital confines

and traveled back to Saluda,
trading his contraband to pay his way
but his babies were now in an orphanage
his dead wife ( Molly and the unborn one)
were lying in their graves

the local law caught up with Bill
made him a nicewarm bed, in a cell
and Mary Sue's sisters were notified
and planned a visit soon

the brought him food, customary thing
that people used to do ( back in the 1920's)
but they added a little somethin, somethin
to Bills hot home cooked food

I heard stories all my life
that he escaped and survived
butu the real truth is, in my family
the truth died, somewhere up on Hogback
and the souls of Mary Sue Garrett
and her babies, still pierce the darkened night

it kept out the water,
it kept out the sun,
it kept out everything
but the monster with the gun


for my great grandma and her 2 babies who were taken from this world much too soon

tara, I know this needs some hard work, but if you have any suggestions, pleasse feel free. Thi s is one I have been trying to write for years and it only decided to make its appearance today. I think it would be really good with your touch, no matter how sllight, if you have time thanks, maria

Well, I figure I could sit here silent. And just read like I always do. Or I could just step up an speak. Otherwise, I guess I never get herd.

The Needle and The Pen

A dungon, Or thats what they would say.
For no one understood, how she could live her life that way.
Pleasure taken, though only by pain from his hands.
Carassing her body. Leaving scars and marking bands.
Around her neck, A collar tightly worn.
But thats where her Pleasure, Pain. Submission was born.
Yet her life wasn't always this way.
For once upon a time she did have a say.
But it was all lost; In one stroke of the Pen.
The pricking of a finger. Needle sliding in.
On hands and knees she worships him.
Hands so tight around her neck; Filling her to the brim.
Was it his goal to break her?
Or simply violently take her?
Lost in a world of submission and command.
Pain, her pleasure. His tools for repremand.
But thats how she got here. The needle and the pen.
Takeing away her options, and locking herself in.
Would she change it if she could? If she got the chance?
Doubtful, for one can tell the happiness in her eyes, Simply at a glance.
Into eyes that have seen the world. The Angels and the Demons.
And choose above them all, a Master.
Some say she may be broken. And broken toys are no fun.
But that my children means it has really just begun.

Darkness gloams

Capitulation


Looks are glances
laden with longing
little Alphonso mangos
waiting to be plucked

Reach up take
slice it open
what lies within is the
morass of a soul
ripe oozing
oh so sweet
Dip Your hand
lift up the juices

three fingers
suffice, dig into the flesh
Taste , chew and swallow

A slow smile as
flavours explode on tongue
golden yellow
full of sunshine wrapped
in the fruit

She sprawls there
in the rattan chair
Under the slowly beating fan
The fetid air, hung over
clammy

a body needs to divest itself
Open up One
see inside
the writhings of My desires

she looks again
watches the world at the window
peering to look at her violation
who shall be first

Should not He
be the One
Stay the hands
He opened the door
watched as He tied her to the bed
His four-poster
Sat by her side
soothing her matted brow
her violation continued

That long line never diminishing
she only had eyes for her One
is this what He wanted
How long the testing

legs akimbo, spread
lips open and pulsating
gasping for more
more more

like a fish gaping for air
out of its element
what Must she do
she was willing to do
what He asked
transfixed transfigured

her friends all came
watched
and sighed
Yet none held her
save her One

Dankness smells
and she did
He inhaled smiled
Knew then
He smelled her fear
at first
And as the minutes dragged to hours
He smelled her capitulation
That flush of pinkness giving
way to the puffy lips of red
raw and moist

Watched the feather
slowly trailing down
describing lazy circles as
the fan slowly beat the fetid air
Strong her smell
her victory
she was His
but she smiled
He was hers forevermore

Nightflow

Hooded harbingers call your name
their footsteps echo alleyways
words they whisper are all the same
forgotten minions of their days.

To scream a night so void of hope
as cobbled light snakes thought the street
and shadows ooze a slippery slope
the inky black brings your defeat.

Re: Darkness gloams

RazzRajen said:

Capitulation


Looks are glances
laden with longing
little Alphonso mangos
waiting to be plucked

Reach up take
slice it open
what lies within is the
morass of a soul
ripe oozing
oh so sweet
Dip Your hand
lift up the juices

three fingers
suffice, dig into the flesh
Taste , chew and swallow

A slow smile as
flavours explode on tongue
golden yellow
full of sunshine wrapped
in the fruit

She sprawls there
in the rattan chair
Under the slowly beating fan
The fetid air, hung over
clammy

a body needs to divest itself
Open up One
see inside
the writhings of My desires

she looks again
watches the world at the window
peering to look at her violation
who shall be first

Should not He
be the One
Stay the hands
He opened the door
watched as He tied her to the bed
His four-poster
Sat by her side
soothing her matted brow
her violation continued

That long line never diminishing
she only had eyes for her One
is this what He wanted
How long the testing

legs akimbo, spread
lips open and pulsating
gasping for more
more more

like a fish gaping for air
out of its element
what Must she do
she was willing to do
what He asked
transfixed transfigured

her friends all came
watched
and sighed
Yet none held her
save her One

Dankness smells
and she did
He inhaled smiled
Knew then
He smelled her fear
at first
And as the minutes dragged to hours
He smelled her capitulation
That flush of pinkness giving
way to the puffy lips of red
raw and moist

Watched the feather
slowly trailing down
describing lazy circles as
the fan slowly beat the fetid air
Strong her smell
her victory
she was His
but she smiled
He was hers forevermore

Click to expand...

This is dark Razz?
Asolutely wordless to express this feeling, if it is what He wishes, how can it be dark

Smile

May I speak with tired blood
trembled by wisped whisker graze
to pool subterranean purple-red sunsets
just under the skin
then diminish
as moonlight yields green grass
glistened with diamond dew
fallen stars, meadow spread
and leaves from trees sprinkled a slow drip
to forgotten few left by and in the dark

It’s safe now, he said, for a while…
worse comes, there is flintstone style
wry, twinkled, smile
unless the seat goes first
then talk about cemented carpet burn
just remember back then
speed limit was 10 per mile…

an hour

But what is going to get you first
the race is on
medications to heal you
causing more ill
closer death
and you feel it’s call
body breaking down
maybe transplant?

I bought a new car

with insurance
I might as well die with a smile
taking care, listening
to each beckon, each yearning
even pain from within
and feed it’s desires
I’ll live longer…
maybe not

God I am sometimes scared
then I feel this is a joke
a worry, needless
something wrong, but I can handle this…

mmm

It is perhaps a marvelous thing;
We bring our hearts and suffering;
To each new day and offering;
Of life and love these days.

For it gives us all a unique perspective;
Rich and full, and reflective;
To talk and learn is the objective;
And add to our own experiance.

And yet to sit and talk of love;
That grand elusive craddle of;
"Happy ever after" stuff;
That no one seems to have.

And so we search, that is the chore;
To find that special one and more;
The one who thrills us to the core;
More ideal than real.

`Till at once we find someone;
Not ideal, but lots of fun;
And through the field of love we run;
Looking for salvation.

Explore the mighty power of lust;
So full inside and poised to bust;
Held in by a thin and painful crust;
Could they be the one.

Yet to go and give our heart;
To be wrenched and squeezed and torn apart;
To one who does this as an art;
Strikes fear into our soul.

And so we love, cautious and guard;
Always looking for signs of charade;
Preying never to find the card;
That shatters love's fine structure.

Suspicion, however, has a danger;
Infecting minds and even stranger;
Seeing things as being larger;
Than reality would seem to allow.

A line is drawn in the sand;
A face is slapped with open hand;
And on the ground a golden band;
Discarded...as am I.

Cuzinevil July 1988

From "Dark Poems Just Cuz" 1996

Re: mmm

cuzinevil said:

It is perhaps a marvelous thing;
We bring our hearts and suffering;
To each new day and offering;
Of life and love these days.

For it gives us all a unique perspective;
Rich and full, and reflective;
To talk and learn is the objective;
And add to our own experiance.

And yet to sit and talk of love;
That grand elusive craddle of;
"Happy ever after" stuff;
That no one seems to have.

And so we search, that is the chore;
To find that special one and more;
The one who thrills us to the core;
More ideal than real.

`Till at once we find someone;
Not ideal, but lots of fun;
And through the field of love we run;
Looking for salvation.

Explore the mighty power of lust;
So full inside and poised to bust;
Held in by a thin and painful crust;
Could they be the one.

Yet to go and give our heart;
To be wrenched and squeezed and torn apart;
To one who does this as an art;
Strikes fear into our soul.

And so we love, cautious and guard;
Always looking for signs of charade;
Preying never to find the card;
That shatters love's fine structure.

Suspicion, however, has a danger;
Infecting minds and even stranger;
Seeing things as being larger;
Than reality would seem to allow.

A line is drawn in the sand;
A face is slapped with open hand;
And on the ground a golden band;
Discarded...as am I.

Cuzinevil July 1988

From "Dark Poems Just Cuz" 1996

Click to expand...

I am sad after reading this......but I do know what you feel........my gold band is still on.......but the love behide it is gone for so long.........and to give the heart again.....not to easy to do......for trust of it not being broken again.

Blue

When I read junkie words
Scrawled on a plaster wall in my own shit
I can't look at the man with that stare
contorted and writhing in blood
He can't stop fucking himself
and so he dies alone...I wasn't even there.

I can self-immolate to my sense of beauty
I can then be reborn
A new vessel to fill
With liquids burning blue flame
Clean superheat, I can hear it
No man, no spore, no self exists
You make me blue
Thank you.

Hidden

Hidden in the dark
beats my little heart
waiting for that spark
that lets it all start

Hidden in the dark
waits my little soul
Hungry like a lark
waiting to be whole

Hidden in the dark
fist my little hands
hurting green-blue marks
shocked by your demands

Hidden in the dark
lays my little body
nobody gives a fark
of that skin so bloody

Re: Re: mmm

Angelofsex said:

I am sad after reading this......but I do know what you feel........my gold band is still on.......but the love behide it is gone for so long.........and to give the heart again.....not to easy to do......for trust of it not being broken again.

Click to expand...

You are an Incredibly perceptive person. I would bet you are deeply sensitive, and experiance emotional pain phyically.
People like us have to be careful about the people we let in. There are those out there who tear up people like us for sport!
I have known only 2, but the scars remain. I wish you better luck.


Cuz

Passage of time
bruising of flesh
drying of blood & tears.
Waves of pleasure
cascading pain
the past & present merge.
Refusing to submit
unable to do anything else,
I bind myself to you
never letting you know
the truth.
My Vanilla Angel,
do you hide the same secrets
I swear I can taste your darkness.
oh God,
please accept me...




The Precipice of Love - Please Vote!
My New Poem - To Be With You Again

Re: Re: Re: mmm

cuzinevil said:

You are an Incredibly perceptive person. I would bet you are deeply sensitive, and experiance emotional pain phyically.
People like us have to be careful about the people we let in. There are those out there who tear up people like us for sport!
I have known only 2, but the scars remain. I wish you better luck.


Cuz

Click to expand...

I to wish you luck........the heart is something you should never give away so easy.

The Feline Beast

As the placid moon rises
So does the beast within me.
Upon me is Satan's bliss;
My soul shall never be free.
Unlike the wolf, I do not howl
For my beast within is feline.
In the still darkness, I prowl;
For fresh blood shall be mine.
I can see you coming now;
Slowly, I raise my sharp claws.
My love, could you have known
That even my heart has laws.


Face to face do we now stand
As I hold your heart in hand.