Here is a list of Dark Poetry Poems ordered by Most Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Forbidden Love
Loving this, isn't something I should do,
Shouldn't want to spend my time in taboo.
I should try to be strong,
but it's the right kind of wrong.
This might be a mistake I'm maken,
But given waht it does, I'm happy to be taken.
Nothing's ever made me feel like this,
just holding the blade is near bliss.
They say it's something I should do with out,
but they dont know what goes on when the lights go out.
There's no way to explain,
All the pleasure is worth all the pain.
I should try to run, but I just can't seem to,
'Cause everytime I try to run, it's what I run to.
Cant do without, what it does for me,
The blood tells me I'm free!
Shouldn't want to spend my time in taboo.
I should try to be strong,
but it's the right kind of wrong.
This might be a mistake I'm maken,
But given waht it does, I'm happy to be taken.
Nothing's ever made me feel like this,
just holding the blade is near bliss.
They say it's something I should do with out,
but they dont know what goes on when the lights go out.
There's no way to explain,
All the pleasure is worth all the pain.
I should try to run, but I just can't seem to,
'Cause everytime I try to run, it's what I run to.
Cant do without, what it does for me,
The blood tells me I'm free!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2009
Post CommentWalking along the shore!
I walked the shore, along the sand. This beautifull place, was given to man.
I walked along the edge of the water,for life is so long,and i've only lived a quarter.
Walking in further, up to my knees,I feel the cold chill of the deep blue sea.
Walking in further up to my thighs,for love and affection, unheard went my cries.
Life is so cold, like the water i stand,people too cruel, to lend me a hand.
Walking in further ,up to my waist,the times we've spent will now be erased.
Walking in further up to my shoulders,of living in life, i'm one of the holders.
Walking in further, up to my ears,the pains deep inside but my eyes shed no tears.
Walking in further, covering my eyes,i no longer see, or hear peoples cries.
Walking in further over my head,for life was so hard, but now i am dead.
I walked along the edge of the water,for life is so long,and i've only lived a quarter.
Walking in further, up to my knees,I feel the cold chill of the deep blue sea.
Walking in further up to my thighs,for love and affection, unheard went my cries.
Life is so cold, like the water i stand,people too cruel, to lend me a hand.
Walking in further ,up to my waist,the times we've spent will now be erased.
Walking in further up to my shoulders,of living in life, i'm one of the holders.
Walking in further, up to my ears,the pains deep inside but my eyes shed no tears.
Walking in further, covering my eyes,i no longer see, or hear peoples cries.
Walking in further over my head,for life was so hard, but now i am dead.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
Oh boy...same time frame,around the age of 16. I suppose i may have been alittle suicidle, but dont remember,feeling THAT bad. (hind site) i suppose.Anyway...i'm much happier today.I Am Hate ((WARNING...not nice !!))
I Am Hate
I am Hate.
The very name pulls life from your lungs,
as you exhale to speak the word.
Hate
I am the spit that rides on your razor words.
That extra push that breaks through the rib cage.
The hand that strikes the tear stain cheaks.
I am the feeling after the fire, the father of rage.
Know me, I am Hate
I am the smerk on his face,
when you were only a child.
I am the sounds that drowned,
your screams for help.
I am every ripped pair of panties,
and blood stained rope.
I am simple, I am Hate.
I am the dirt in the lungs,
and the flesh under the nail.
I am the thousands of gallons of water,
that blanket your ravaged body.
I am the lie that hides the truth.
The shark in the lake, out of place, and all alone.
I am the dinasour too big to be swallowed
by the tar pit in the back of your mind.
I am forever and I am everywhere
I am Hate
I am Hate.
The very name pulls life from your lungs,
as you exhale to speak the word.
Hate
I am the spit that rides on your razor words.
That extra push that breaks through the rib cage.
The hand that strikes the tear stain cheaks.
I am the feeling after the fire, the father of rage.
Know me, I am Hate
I am the smerk on his face,
when you were only a child.
I am the sounds that drowned,
your screams for help.
I am every ripped pair of panties,
and blood stained rope.
I am simple, I am Hate.
I am the dirt in the lungs,
and the flesh under the nail.
I am the thousands of gallons of water,
that blanket your ravaged body.
I am the lie that hides the truth.
The shark in the lake, out of place, and all alone.
I am the dinasour too big to be swallowed
by the tar pit in the back of your mind.
I am forever and I am everywhere
I am Hate
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
I just wanted to share this poem and a few others that touched different subjects and emotions...With this poem I wanted to see what you all thought when i'm not writing about love, but yet the opposite...Hate.
Love me
Hit me
Beat me
Rip out my hair
Burn me
Break me
I don't even care
But love me
Curse me
Laugh at me
Force me in my home
Bruise me
Bleed me
Rip my skin from the bone
But love me
Pain me
Drain me
Nail me to the floor
Freeze me
Leave me
Until I beg for more
But love me
Because you never have before
Beat me
Rip out my hair
Burn me
Break me
I don't even care
But love me
Curse me
Laugh at me
Force me in my home
Bruise me
Bleed me
Rip my skin from the bone
But love me
Pain me
Drain me
Nail me to the floor
Freeze me
Leave me
Until I beg for more
But love me
Because you never have before
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
Post CommentI Cut My Wrists
I cut my wrists,
To show who I am,
If you don't like it,
I don't give a damn!!
I cut my wrists,
But not with pride,
You should have told me the truth,
But instead you lied.
I cut my wrists,
To me it feels good,
I wish someone understood,
I wish my best friends would.
I cut my wrists,
Whether I'm mad or depressed,
I do it not to please me,
I just live with to much stress.
I cut my wrists,
And though when I'm done,
I do not feel good inside,
I sometimes wish...
I'de cut deep enough to die!!
To show who I am,
If you don't like it,
I don't give a damn!!
I cut my wrists,
But not with pride,
You should have told me the truth,
But instead you lied.
I cut my wrists,
To me it feels good,
I wish someone understood,
I wish my best friends would.
I cut my wrists,
Whether I'm mad or depressed,
I do it not to please me,
I just live with to much stress.
I cut my wrists,
And though when I'm done,
I do not feel good inside,
I sometimes wish...
I'de cut deep enough to die!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
I don't do this anymore, but when i did it was a very depressing part of my life. People think about it all the time they just dont act on it. This is what i felt like when i was doing it... My life is differant now, i may not be the happiest person out there but i know that is not the way to handle stress, I have 2 wonderfull daughters to look out for now, and i want to be here for them while they grow up...
~etarg eht hguorht
in the road came my last cigarette that raindrops put out, as I flicked it away from the last puff I had when I sat in the chair, from closing the fridge for some cheese an a beer I got out of the chair, commercial was on from the movie I see, triple bill thriller right to the end as the buttons in play ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
:)Ophelia
Beside the waters edge
the curious bend
of tree bough lay
across the water
like an extended arm
there sits ophelia
her patterned dress
with flowered hem
of brownish light
decorate dress so white
a flower band
around her waist
her arms rise up
she plays with her
long flowered hair
pale she looks
though red her lips
appearing as if
to day dream
above the lillie pads
young and pure
her looks one sees
ophelia
the painting still
holds her life
and though
she drowned
by waters there
pretty girl
with longish hair
your memory
is still preserved
and better too
as if one could
save you
should painting
open up
and you go through
and catch
the sleeping beauty
door open
let us through
catch ophelia
let us do
save the girl
from such an end
to young to die
a life to spend...
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
the curious bend
of tree bough lay
across the water
like an extended arm
there sits ophelia
her patterned dress
with flowered hem
of brownish light
decorate dress so white
a flower band
around her waist
her arms rise up
she plays with her
long flowered hair
pale she looks
though red her lips
appearing as if
to day dream
above the lillie pads
young and pure
her looks one sees
ophelia
the painting still
holds her life
and though
she drowned
by waters there
pretty girl
with longish hair
your memory
is still preserved
and better too
as if one could
save you
should painting
open up
and you go through
and catch
the sleeping beauty
door open
let us through
catch ophelia
let us do
save the girl
from such an end
to young to die
a life to spend...
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
Written as i viewed her sitting on the tree bough..~it's been said~
We wrote our life before we were born
If indeed it's so, we'd think we'd know
Deja vu is claimed to be in that write
Feeling of being again in the place that we are.
If it's been once it's been a hundred times
That feeling of being of from once before
If you've felt it it's seconds of brain freeze on high
You can't make that feeling come as you want
A few minutes later you go back to that place
In the mind you can think it, but the feelings are gone
Try to recount those times that you've been
Your memory keeps away those Deja vu times.
~Bentlee~
If indeed it's so, we'd think we'd know
Deja vu is claimed to be in that write
Feeling of being again in the place that we are.
If it's been once it's been a hundred times
That feeling of being of from once before
If you've felt it it's seconds of brain freeze on high
You can't make that feeling come as you want
A few minutes later you go back to that place
In the mind you can think it, but the feelings are gone
Try to recount those times that you've been
Your memory keeps away those Deja vu times.
~Bentlee~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
Cheers
The final days!
The days are fast closing. Many events are unfolding. Signs or symptoms who knows? But things are on the brink. No one seems in control. Optimism doubts and fear abound. In a sense all are right. Surely there must be conclusion. Something must give, it's said. Answers are sure to unfold. But are we now prepared? Or has man run his course? The answer is in time. We must all take a stand. Victory or is it defeat? Weeping and sorrow nashing of teeth. Joy and laughter sounds sweet? Right now we don't know. We must overcome or grapple woes.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
Prophetic or evolution?
Dancing among Metaphors
Partner up with a poetic couplet-
Symbolically step with the cadence
of life's impulse-
Mirrors within mirrors reflecting
reflections-
Earths steel is but a liquid dream-
Gravity is the mother of cohesion,
and cohesion is the circle of life-
Shadows are frozen in ice and the
moon is a penny in our eye-
Sing to the birds and you will
fly away-
Thunderstorms never rain on themselves-
The ocean has died of thirst~
Symbolically step with the cadence
of life's impulse-
Mirrors within mirrors reflecting
reflections-
Earths steel is but a liquid dream-
Gravity is the mother of cohesion,
and cohesion is the circle of life-
Shadows are frozen in ice and the
moon is a penny in our eye-
Sing to the birds and you will
fly away-
Thunderstorms never rain on themselves-
The ocean has died of thirst~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2011
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