In another forum, MrMidNight asked the question "Do you think you are a dark poet?" Several comments came in but there were no examples of the writings of the 'dark' posters' works.
Please post here perhaps between 2 -10 lines of some of your 'dark' work or comment on what constitutes 'dark' poetry.
censored by e.lee caleca
ripped from the quiet pool
knife to my brain
the courts' authority exposing the flood of my cradle
the middle seat, narrow and pragmatic, is unable to win me favor
and so before i taste the breath of the wind
i am flushed away with antiseptic nonchalance
my name drizzling down the drain in some surgeon's footpath.
The Cimmerian shade sets in
Then the dark, lonely agonizing night
And the agony of a crying tormented soul
The distant crying of a wounded heart
Feeling the dark vast abyss of voidness
Of a love that is a prisoner of herself
Intertwined in the darkness of dreams
Until the night he held me in his arms!
dark poetry with tinge of love
Dark, oh yes that undefinable bauble. the idyosycracy of poe unbridled and other hopefuls, dark as related to what? the neutality of words. the persona of the fearful? one more word to define that which is not known to begin with. dark is unknown so cannot legibly be written about.
If I speak not of darkness,
not even a refrain
the blood flowing from pen tip
answering for pain
it dwells in my cave under my name
a place to hide from you
wallowing in shame of feelings
unfit for my self
as my fingers itch
for the knife on the shelf.
like a monster
creeping inside me
I must keep you at bay
if only for my sanity
why is it you keep lurking inside my head
ready to engulf all my thoughts
ready to make me do the unthinkable
I wish you would just disappear
but there you linger
somewhere I do not know
This is only part of the actual work.
ahorseback 24 hours ago:
Are dark poets always as
unsettled as I.
Once I had the chance
and lost it.
The darkness of the night
skies give way to stars.
And the wolf moon dances for
pennies at the circus......
Yes....Yes I am dark
and getting darker still.
Are you too afraid
to look me in
the mystery of death is revealed
the magic deception is life's slight of hand
angel wings flutter upon my breath, soundless wards of my rage
death is not a painful thing, deep jewel of night
drown me in thy quay
for i have fallen to sweet relief...
listen...to the air...lucious sound of emptiness...
Tis Dark to deal
with the light of minds
flighty or ungrounded optimism
causes to rub
two brain cells together
forcing humanity to admit
that not all is gayety's
and light inspiration
but serious contemplation
of the consequences
of human vagrancy.
You could also just cheat and mention gratuitous amounts of blood, gore, despair, and death but where is the fun in that?
Why is it so dark ?
Why do I feel so cold ?
I remember a warm spark of a fire glittering gold
me and my love, total abandon in our couch mould
crossing the night to a new sunrise arc
carrying hopes, laughter, pages of life to unfold...
Alas, the journey went astray.
Begone night and day, somber shadows come to lay
like a hunter net upon a prey...
Now silence and stillness freeze in acceptation
of an eternity not of memories but oblivion
When I recently joined and began posting hubs the first posting challenges were 1) Title (I generally don't) and 2) Category - where was the one for Dark?! I've never thought to categorise them before - they just are what they are. Anyway, I would consider the following poem "dark" - but then, it's just whatever it is to the reader, depending on where they shine their own light.
They were never far apart: her
mirrored self, hate, and heart.
She got up close – just close
enough – to see the flaws to
pull apart. No more could she
step away and blur the line
between what she loathed and
what was fine than she could
say no to the Devil’s lair, it
held the strongest sway over
her despair. Her heart was
broke, it cared nothing for
life beyond the bathroom door,
and so she bled from the open
wounds of a razor tongue and
reflected moon. She would say
goodnight to loneliness, bid
empty farewell to what could
never be missed - except that’s
a lie the mirror told, it fed the
hate and made her bold, but it
never planned for the hollow
when her image was lost to
the black angel’s yen.
Just check out " Bloody Mary " on my page...Dark stuff is what i do best.Even though " Bloody Mary " i think is one of my ok ones. \m/
Darkness can come from anywhere, even in the brightest light.
Without one you can't have the other.
My stab at a little dark poetry...
Mid-section to "Nightmare of Abstracting Thought"; by manlypoetryman:
"And yet again...my Nightmare found me...though I tried hard to avoid...
Yet...now confronted by its' very presence...I must view that which I've least enjoyed.
I knew I must be again dreaming...but it was hard to feel...
Looking around...the Nightmare was...Oh, so real.
Everything here was set in place...to the most mi'nute detail...
I stood to fight...but all I did was fail.
I paid a heavy price...My Nightmare had come true...
There was nothing I could change for now...Nothing...I could say or do.
Welcome...to my own worst Nightmare...Sorry...you had to come along...
I'd tell you that it will all work out...but then...I might be wrong !
I was going along...At ease...and in quiet rest...
Now...managing Life's curveballs...struggling...at best.
I will give the moment...its' expected diligence...though I don't know how I'll get through...
Until I awaken from this Nightmare and come back once more...I'm alone....there is nothing anyone can do !
For it was a Nightmare of Abstracting thought...which truly drove me to be insane !
The screams I had were internal...the thoughts...though quiet...caused me great pain."
The reasons obvious to still open eyes
As the world painted its open skies
He would sit under and protrude his skin
Think this is the only way to win
Many others could claim his twin
Thoughts progress towards what is spent
His liquid angel had already been sent
Than a drive to see what he can find
Could be small could be white
Could make him fall or lose his sight
didn’t matter if it took away his mind
Almost the point to the scandal
To finally go off to lose his handle
If you could live in that bag
Would you see all that drag
He had nothing to his name
Only holdin out for the fame
Always endin in unnerving shame
That point to life is havin fun
As the one and forgotten son
Made his list of goals on a board
Only had one to add than no more
Sadly it was only for the next score
Thoughts could burn you to the core
Take it from everything you could want
Dreams to others don’t mean squat
Streams together are hardly fought
So hed run and cower
Let it fill with its gutless power
Itll all be gone by the hour
Wish he had time to look back and ask
For maybe one more pack
Too late its gone never more
Sit and cry on all your fours
Is this fair for him to blame
The reasons he never came
On all this mixture he has got in his brain
All it built up in his snot
Hed say yes but prolly not
Just like that hell die alone
The brightest star ever shown
Everyone will cry and moan
Although some will know
All about his late night show
And understand maybe better for him to go
A silent vengeance
sits lifeless and vast.
On the face is a look
that is aghast.
Fear is an inner merchant
of torment and pain.
Death is an ending
so we're no longer insane.
The snake is pure black
as he slithers between the breast.
An ashen skin makes contrast as
the eyes show rest.
Everywhere is bustle all around the town.
Everyone is rushing all who wear a frown.
Time is so important, it never stands still.
Yet time doesn't exist to those who do not live.
They sit in their squalor, do not dare a peek.
Names are nothing, to all just a freak.
Addictions are rampant life is shorter still.
Voices in the head at night, stop them with a pill.
Do not claim pity.
Do not claim fear.
For the Undesirable exists on a lower level tier.
Hide them in the shadows.
Put them in a box.
If they loiter outside then we
must change the locks.
Loneliness and loss of pride turns a soul to darkness wide.
Loss of will and grief in life turns the inner soul outside at night.
Lie your head upon the stone, waking up to the cities moan.
Hunger pangs and thirst to quench, discarded scraps of indulgence.
The monkey needs to be fed as well, on the soul is where he dwells.
Loss of pride and confidence, destroys the sense of arrogance.
When it's time to leave the world the undesirable pleads for pearls.
Emptiness spills from dark corners
Nothingness oozes from vacant space
Numbness kills all emotion
Light seeping away
Replaced by infinity
Easing onward into complacency
Life begins and ends in the middle
Fade out fade in
No light shines bright at the end of the tunnel
Never ending black whole
Regurgitating it's undying yet already dead insides
Onto and into the surrounding nothing
Of our big little world
Dark poetry is whatever you want it to be.
I take of the breather
to take a smoke.
I stare at the clock.
The wall looks sterile.
I cry but am not really sorry.
My fingers once strong
wrap the bone.
I look and see the sun
graying by smog.
It is paralyzed like me from cancer
It is silently accepting.
I lift my mask once again
to give my brain a treat.
Smoke fills the air
and the building burns.
The news title read. Cigarette causes a fire. Cause of death unknown.
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