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.
the player
camped on a barstool at the dungeon
it's three a.m. - i'm drinking rum
another drunk sitting at the other end
his whiskey glass is empty - he's nodding
it's a back-alley after-hours joint
john the bartender is b|tching about some cr@p
i'm giving him maybe half of one ear
mainly just drinking and smoking
there's one other guy there about three stools down
i don't know him but i've got him pegged as another player
the door opens and a young couple walks in
they're all smiles and all over each other
they order champagne! at three a.m. in the dungeon!
the bottle is dusty
he tells john they just got married
they're on their fu*king honeymoon!
the player at three stools down swoops in
he starts talking to them but i can't hear
i can just imagine how the pitch goes though
he has them both fully engaged
but he's concentrating on the groom - talking earnestly
the kid is rapt wrapped up and awestruck
he's all ears!
the player orders another round - not champagne - tequilla
he is working them - playing them like a brace of fiddles
the kid starts crying - the girl is observing
the player starts turning the charm on her
alternating now between the two of them
charm to her - pity and sorrow to him
i could see it unfolding - knowing the outcome
sure enough - the player left with the bride
the groom left there crying - waving goodbye
i finished my rum and headed to the door
as i passed i patted the kid on the shoulder
better luck next time i told him
typical friday night in the big easy
it's three a.m. - i'm drinking rum
another drunk sitting at the other end
his whiskey glass is empty - he's nodding
it's a back-alley after-hours joint
john the bartender is b|tching about some cr@p
i'm giving him maybe half of one ear
mainly just drinking and smoking
there's one other guy there about three stools down
i don't know him but i've got him pegged as another player
the door opens and a young couple walks in
they're all smiles and all over each other
they order champagne! at three a.m. in the dungeon!
the bottle is dusty
he tells john they just got married
they're on their fu*king honeymoon!
the player at three stools down swoops in
he starts talking to them but i can't hear
i can just imagine how the pitch goes though
he has them both fully engaged
but he's concentrating on the groom - talking earnestly
the kid is rapt wrapped up and awestruck
he's all ears!
the player orders another round - not champagne - tequilla
he is working them - playing them like a brace of fiddles
the kid starts crying - the girl is observing
the player starts turning the charm on her
alternating now between the two of them
charm to her - pity and sorrow to him
i could see it unfolding - knowing the outcome
sure enough - the player left with the bride
the groom left there crying - waving goodbye
i finished my rum and headed to the door
as i passed i patted the kid on the shoulder
better luck next time i told him
typical friday night in the big easy
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2010
About this poem:
true story. experimenting with style. big Charles Bukowski fan!sick of looking at you
you ever feel the dark edge of a knife i hate you for being you so perfect i hate you im sick of looking at you i hate you i hate you this is my poem to you suicide is the answer
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
Post Comment
down in the well
down in the well, to coin a phrase
i used to drop a hint or two
light to dark words fell to vanish
musty ol' mossy green to begin
colors bright at first then quickly
darken all around to echos down
where all is black and silent cool
welcome after the blaze of the world
thoughts drop wordlessly to unknown
bottoms without phrase or syntax
just weightless falling...falling
at velocities vanishing point
away or toward, no matter, sensing
the odd lifting feeling of falling
is the wind rushing by the thought,
or the thoughts flying by the wind?
behind...above toward the light
seems heavenward tunnel receding
will i splash into you hard or softly
splayed in all directions like a crown
when i get to the bottom of this
© agoodguy2have 2010-08-12
i used to drop a hint or two
light to dark words fell to vanish
musty ol' mossy green to begin
colors bright at first then quickly
darken all around to echos down
where all is black and silent cool
welcome after the blaze of the world
thoughts drop wordlessly to unknown
bottoms without phrase or syntax
just weightless falling...falling
at velocities vanishing point
away or toward, no matter, sensing
the odd lifting feeling of falling
is the wind rushing by the thought,
or the thoughts flying by the wind?
behind...above toward the light
seems heavenward tunnel receding
will i splash into you hard or softly
splayed in all directions like a crown
when i get to the bottom of this
© agoodguy2have 2010-08-12
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
dark down here ... filed under dark poetry ;-)
A thought
I wrote a poem.
It was of sensuality,
It was of intimacy,
Not of sexuality. It
Was of passion and desires.
It was of me, asking
My lover, to give
Up her passion so
I may have my desire.
A critic told me this,
Which I was unaware.
To which I could say
" Tis my poem, let me be."
I say nay to this!
An artist with his brush,
Paints so that another
See the beauty he sees,
A poet's brush is
His words, yet if
They are not fashioned
Targeted, honed precisely
At his intended, they
Fall on deaf ears,
Satisfying no but
himself.
And to even of
Vainest men, this
Is a worthless endeavor.
So to you, my friend,
With that one thought,
I say thank you.
It was of sensuality,
It was of intimacy,
Not of sexuality. It
Was of passion and desires.
It was of me, asking
My lover, to give
Up her passion so
I may have my desire.
A critic told me this,
Which I was unaware.
To which I could say
" Tis my poem, let me be."
I say nay to this!
An artist with his brush,
Paints so that another
See the beauty he sees,
A poet's brush is
His words, yet if
They are not fashioned
Targeted, honed precisely
At his intended, they
Fall on deaf ears,
Satisfying no but
himself.
And to even of
Vainest men, this
Is a worthless endeavor.
So to you, my friend,
With that one thought,
I say thank you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2010
Post CommentThe Mask
I ought to have an Oscar
for every day I live
I walk amognst you with a mask
to hide the pain beneath
It isn't much
it's bearable
but each day takes its toll.
I grin and bear it and wear a smile
to convince you otherwise
But that isn't the case at all indeed
I'm torn up constantly
Time heals no wounds
it covers them in cobwebs
and every time Mary Jane
and the Joker wonder who's inside
I retreat to within myself
where I am only less depressed.
It is a matter of habit
an issue with behaviour
that makes this tortoise shell
It cannot break
not by one's will alone
but together it shall fall
I am a man and an island
No one shall dare approach me
I protect myself with shoals and reefs
and lurk within the jungles
I am lost
Half found
for every day I live
I walk amognst you with a mask
to hide the pain beneath
It isn't much
it's bearable
but each day takes its toll.
I grin and bear it and wear a smile
to convince you otherwise
But that isn't the case at all indeed
I'm torn up constantly
Time heals no wounds
it covers them in cobwebs
and every time Mary Jane
and the Joker wonder who's inside
I retreat to within myself
where I am only less depressed.
It is a matter of habit
an issue with behaviour
that makes this tortoise shell
It cannot break
not by one's will alone
but together it shall fall
I am a man and an island
No one shall dare approach me
I protect myself with shoals and reefs
and lurk within the jungles
I am lost
Half found
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2010
About this poem:
If you haven't noticed by now, I am my own archrival. Or was, anyway.
online today!an affair not to remember..(R rated)
I lived in a rented one bedroom trailor
at the top of mill creek hill
when I met, hit it off with,
then moved in with, a woman in town
the rent on the trailor
had been paid for, a month in advance
I left it idle, as my time was spent
at the home of my new friend, that I had found
I was a truck driver/warehouseman
at a local Caterpillar equipment shop
next door was a Chevy dealership garage
with a dreamy secretary that I vouch was "tip top"
we would see one another each day on the street
I was age twenty five and she was nineteen
well, she and I, had ocassion to meet
I was so overwhelmed, I stopped using my bean
(since my new girlfriend was far away in her town,
opportunity knocked for foolin' around)
we arranged rendezvous for later that week
at my trailor rental on mill creek hill
it was both our' day off, nothing to stop us
from getting acquainted, our passion to fill
meanwhile, a great fire destroyed the house
of a family near mill creek, suddenly homeless
friends of my landlord, and they needed shelter
they decided to let them use my place, I guess
when miss nineteen and I arrived at the trailor
much to our chagrin, there were folks all about
were boxing and moving all of my belongings
wrongly assuming that I had moved out
it was a hot summer day (and I was getting hotter)
I burst in demanding "what the hell's goin' on?"
"our friends lost their home in a fire" they said
"we wanted to help and we thought you were gone"
"well I'm not gone and my rent is paid up"
"to the last of the month, so get the hell out"
they stopped what they were doing and shyly departed
windows open wide, they could still hear me shout
when me and the "tip top" girl made our way in
my stuff was all over, my face was beet red
but there was a mattress leaned up to a wall
we lowered it down, we now had a bed
we started in, with some kissing and touching
quickly were naked, then soon joined as one
as we roiled about, in great thralls of passion
the neighbors were nearby, they never had gone
all of a sudden, my eyes popped wide open
great fear gripped my heart, due to the sound
of a bloodcurdling banshee like howl below me
the other folks heard it, they still were around
oh, ho ho,
oh, my darlin'
the sound from your throat
is so alarmin'!
the longer we made love, the louder, her screaming
I was quite taken aback by this state of affairs
my eardrums near burst, when she started creaming
my prior dreaming, now became a nightmare
stop it, shut up, I was trying to shout
but the outcry from her lungs was drowning it out
her noise and the neighbors, were all so offputting
I had not the muster to trigger my gun
like a deer in the headlights, it felt so disarming
calamitous circumstance quashed all my fun
oh, the humanity!
well, there you have it
no tall tale
details of a tail tale
my tail got tail
I got a tale
moral of the story:
be moral or make damn sure that your neighbors ain't around
at the top of mill creek hill
when I met, hit it off with,
then moved in with, a woman in town
the rent on the trailor
had been paid for, a month in advance
I left it idle, as my time was spent
at the home of my new friend, that I had found
I was a truck driver/warehouseman
at a local Caterpillar equipment shop
next door was a Chevy dealership garage
with a dreamy secretary that I vouch was "tip top"
we would see one another each day on the street
I was age twenty five and she was nineteen
well, she and I, had ocassion to meet
I was so overwhelmed, I stopped using my bean
(since my new girlfriend was far away in her town,
opportunity knocked for foolin' around)
we arranged rendezvous for later that week
at my trailor rental on mill creek hill
it was both our' day off, nothing to stop us
from getting acquainted, our passion to fill
meanwhile, a great fire destroyed the house
of a family near mill creek, suddenly homeless
friends of my landlord, and they needed shelter
they decided to let them use my place, I guess
when miss nineteen and I arrived at the trailor
much to our chagrin, there were folks all about
were boxing and moving all of my belongings
wrongly assuming that I had moved out
it was a hot summer day (and I was getting hotter)
I burst in demanding "what the hell's goin' on?"
"our friends lost their home in a fire" they said
"we wanted to help and we thought you were gone"
"well I'm not gone and my rent is paid up"
"to the last of the month, so get the hell out"
they stopped what they were doing and shyly departed
windows open wide, they could still hear me shout
when me and the "tip top" girl made our way in
my stuff was all over, my face was beet red
but there was a mattress leaned up to a wall
we lowered it down, we now had a bed
we started in, with some kissing and touching
quickly were naked, then soon joined as one
as we roiled about, in great thralls of passion
the neighbors were nearby, they never had gone
all of a sudden, my eyes popped wide open
great fear gripped my heart, due to the sound
of a bloodcurdling banshee like howl below me
the other folks heard it, they still were around
oh, ho ho,
oh, my darlin'
the sound from your throat
is so alarmin'!
the longer we made love, the louder, her screaming
I was quite taken aback by this state of affairs
my eardrums near burst, when she started creaming
my prior dreaming, now became a nightmare
stop it, shut up, I was trying to shout
but the outcry from her lungs was drowning it out
her noise and the neighbors, were all so offputting
I had not the muster to trigger my gun
like a deer in the headlights, it felt so disarming
calamitous circumstance quashed all my fun
oh, the humanity!
well, there you have it
no tall tale
details of a tail tale
my tail got tail
I got a tale
moral of the story:
be moral or make damn sure that your neighbors ain't around
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
1977How did we get here?
How did we get here,
In this place so dark?
Where I can no longer see,
But still feel your mark.
How did we get here,
Where I feel so much pain?
Where i'm sitting, soaked,
In the cold, unforgiving rain.
You used to be my umbrella.
But now you're my storm.
How did we get here,
Where it's no longer warm?
In this place so dark?
Where I can no longer see,
But still feel your mark.
How did we get here,
Where I feel so much pain?
Where i'm sitting, soaked,
In the cold, unforgiving rain.
You used to be my umbrella.
But now you're my storm.
How did we get here,
Where it's no longer warm?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
This is about an ex I had. That relationship was probably the worst I have ever and will ever have.done with the hurt and the crying
iam done with trying the hurt
and the crying
may the depts of hell
have it all i say
because many were the tears and sorrow
that would not go away
begone with trying the hurt
and the crying
may the depts of hell
have it all i say
becasuse of many heart breaks
along the way
in seeking thepath
of true love
oh jesus oh jesus was it
really worth the dieing
may the depts of hell
have it all i say
and the crying
may the depts of hell
have it all i say
because many were the tears and sorrow
that would not go away
begone with trying the hurt
and the crying
may the depts of hell
have it all i say
becasuse of many heart breaks
along the way
in seeking thepath
of true love
oh jesus oh jesus was it
really worth the dieing
may the depts of hell
have it all i say
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2010
About this poem:
loneliness and heart breakmy hour of darkness down at the
lonely hearts club
I'M PERFECT
No one cares how I feel
I look back in the mirror
I seem so unreal
No reflection just a distorted face
I wonder why I'm here
I feel like a total waste
No chance to meet someone
If it ever happens
I don't think I'd be much fun
Don't care I guess you see
Been on my own too long
I don't wish you were me
No one wants to steal my show
If they knew the end result
I'd be thrown out in the snow
I don't care what they say
I will not change for anyone
And that's how I'll stay
No chance to be with someone
I live my life in horror
I'm always on the run
I don't want to get to close
It seems so much easier
Living my life as a ghost
No one wants me at all
I try and look my best
I'm close to a porcelain doll
Self love is pretty hard to beat
Pull the rug from under me
I'll shatter down to you're feet
No chance to be with you
Once I think you're perfect
I'll always stick by you
A round peg can't fit into a square
I hope you understand me
Life can be so unfair
No one wants to make a mistake
If you were perfect like me
I wouldn't think you're fake
I think its time for you to go
Close this curtain
I am the show!
I look back in the mirror
I seem so unreal
No reflection just a distorted face
I wonder why I'm here
I feel like a total waste
No chance to meet someone
If it ever happens
I don't think I'd be much fun
Don't care I guess you see
Been on my own too long
I don't wish you were me
No one wants to steal my show
If they knew the end result
I'd be thrown out in the snow
I don't care what they say
I will not change for anyone
And that's how I'll stay
No chance to be with someone
I live my life in horror
I'm always on the run
I don't want to get to close
It seems so much easier
Living my life as a ghost
No one wants me at all
I try and look my best
I'm close to a porcelain doll
Self love is pretty hard to beat
Pull the rug from under me
I'll shatter down to you're feet
No chance to be with you
Once I think you're perfect
I'll always stick by you
A round peg can't fit into a square
I hope you understand me
Life can be so unfair
No one wants to make a mistake
If you were perfect like me
I wouldn't think you're fake
I think its time for you to go
Close this curtain
I am the show!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2010
About this poem:
admit it....we have all felt like this at one time or another,i wrote this,while lying in bed...thinking...i want to meet someone PERFECT!
Let me be
If i feel the need to die to fly high to touch the sky. Let me be let me be, should i happen to write to souls in the night the ones that lost the fight, let me be let me be, if theres nothing inside left to hide i fall down on a blade to take away the pain felt from yesterday, let me be let me be, if i wander out to a desert ranch with no chance for a return dance, let me be let me be, if i am not for this world anymore because i cant settle the score, let me be let me be, if i come through and continue to see, just let me be let me be!!.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2023
About this poem:
My liver is stuffed. Point of no return.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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