Last Edited Dark Poetry Poems (101)

In the pride of his knowledge,- he soared too high;-
His wings of wax and paper come undone;-
He plummets down now;- from that same blue sky;-
(And I am cow'd as Icurus' son).
Who feels the mortal damage to his pride;-
(And so I write of how I've come undone);-
The splitting and the splitting;- of wounds that run so deep;-
As sentimental tears course down his cheeks.



© lovecanbereal
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The fake,
The hollow fake;
The Impostor.

The one-dimensional one;-
Shallow as a wading pool.

The empty vessel.

The one, who puts on another's robes;
But who, underneath, is just a monkey.

The one who wishes,
To turn the freely given;
To a profit.

The one, with no discernible talent;
Will be exposed.

Beware, the anti-plagiarism software;
Beware, the originals, on my USB.

Beware, the original Time and Date Stamps;
Beware, the CS Copyright Warning.

Beware!



© lovecanbereal
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My 100th poem - and my last billet doux,*
(And please don't take my writing for granted);-
There's more I could tell you - and some that is new;-
(Though lust over love has been oft been supplanted).
Where poesy (it seems) appeals to the few;-
(There's a lot to say about things that I once did);-
And never has there been a much truer word,
Than what I've writ now in front of the World.

Though how can I say it's my last billet doux;-
What hope have I got,- when such are my failings?
Thus under my pen, my verse blooms anew;-
To describe my young self in emotional railings.
Well it's true (as a young man) I did go askew,
And my life was far; - far from plain sailing;-
So then, please excuse this my biopic;-
In which I write on various topics.

So I find it can't be my last billet doux,
(Merely a break, or a quiet hiatus);-
Should I go and hide from the World, and it's view;-
Or write and describe some more of my coitus?
It's hard to believe it would cause much ado,
In this graphic life, where half the World hates us;-
When really I write of the "damage done";-
And the abuse that made me an "orphan."

It's not that I here write with self-pity,
It's more that I say here God "please explain"
Or maybe a tale of "sin and the city",
And human potential that's gone down the drain.
I write not to seem too clever, nor witty,
(In fact behind lies emotional pain)
Of a type that's quite hard to comprehend;-
So I think that it's Karma, and death's not the End.

So what must I do to repay the sins,
That were likely acquired in many past lives?
When life's credits roll up,- will it say "fin";-
Or at this juncture, does my energy survive?
Well, I must go on;- and to live is to win,
To spite them, and say:- "hey I'm still alive";-
And like the Phoenix, fly above the Narcissist,-
Who can't triumph, in all his cruel self-interest.


© lovecanbereal
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I see you girl - in the corner of this pub
I see the sorrow in your downcast eyes,
I see you nod your head - as now a drug -
Holds you close with its deceit and bitter lies.
The air around you cloyed - as in a fug -
The glasses on your table stacked three high;
I look but cannot think of things to say -
All I can do is witness your dismay.

What went wrong so early in your life?
You don't look much more than twenty-three -
What demons do you fight? What monstrous strife?
(And if I cried a tear t'would be for thee).
I can see your heart is broken - like a knife
Had cut you there - now plain for all to see -
The expression in your eyes as hard as stone
As you sit there at your table - drinking alone.

On a raft of beer and drugs you now escape -
I can see you float upon this poison tide;
Your eyes becoming glassy - now opaque -
As you try - and try some more - your hurt to hide.
I can see you've taken more than you can take -
That somethings broken down there deep inside;
On your fingers - just for show - a few cheap rings -
Another angel - has gone and lost her wings.



© lovecanbereal
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From this reality, my spirit flees
To the disembodied entities
Cast net wide for all my days;-
World unwilling to give in praise.

From my spirit's broken halo
Thoughts or fancies off they go
Walking on the water's edge
The dreadful deep of cyberspace.

Hoping for a forlorn grace
Or something good to take its place
Never have I felt so old
With my spirit growing cold.

Feel affection drying up
Like a beggar without a cup
Homeless heartless without a place
See the ruin in my face.

Cast off another virtual thought
Poet's feelings can't be taught
See a list of hollow conquests
Yet I don't have any regrets.

The artificial world is coming
Rats in mazes - we are running
No more romance of yesteryear
The uncertain futures here.

Population exponential
Don't say that I haven't warned you -
Like the sheep in a paddock
Don't know that a drought is coming.

Still, we care, still, we love
Take a pill and cut feelings off
Maybe I have loved too many
Now it seems I can't have any.



© lovecanbereal
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Caught in a rip - the beach was unprotected
And no lifesavers there on Christmas Day
Where father now my life he resurrected
As I sunk in the white spume - my mortal clay
Was close to drowning - had he not detected
My Mums alarm - and witnessed her dismay-
As I sunk so very close to drowning
He leap't into the surf - his own life risking.

There I was - half drowned and hearing bells
Stuck in the vortex of a boiling surf
So very close - indeed- to where death dwells
And only nine years on from my birth
Drowning vitality in stormy swells
(And being too young to know just who to curse)
Though - almost - I did not live to tell of this:
Fighting - panic - drowning - in the sea's blue abyss.

The surf's wild spume of salty spray engulfed me
Dragging me into the current's vortex
And now the puppet of an angry sea
Where life can end so fast - like a shipwreck
I started to relax - my strength left me
I tried in vain to signal my two parents -
'Twas strange that the only thing I thought then
Is that I did not want to die a virgin.

I raged and struggled against Neptune's chains
Dragged beneath the boiling sapphire surf
Heroic George a hero now remains
And in this way still proves a hero's worth.
I - growing weak - almost - felt my last refrain
When father rescued me from a watery death
Both heaving against the roiling turquoise waves
At Narrabeen* my life my father saves.

In this rip, he found a lucky sand bar
We stood on this while the swift current raged
And would have dragged us both into deep water
(The current had just for a moment flagged)
On an incoming wave, we now toward, were
Carried thus to the shore (more swept and dragged)
And lying both exhausted on the sand
Now thanked "the Skies"^ that we had found dry land.





© lovecanbereal
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All your life - you've heaped up all your gold; -
You think you've got some substance in this world?
Though surely - you must know - that its a shame -
When history - will soon forget your name.

All your hours - you've hard pinched every penny; -
Has it an extra day of life - now bought you any?
Hoarding stacks of money - like a crime -
Will buy you not a second - of extra time.

And what it is - I still find very odd; -
Is that you won't see money - as a false God -
And that you can never hear - what is truthful -
That golds not God; - that it is merely useful.

It is sad - you could never know sublime,-
Just hoarding all your money - all the time; -
As if you could now go, - and buy salvation:
Too soon you will taste - bitter libation.




© lovecanbereal
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Lying on the grass in Newtown Cemetary
To see the setting Sun in his hot ire
Drown in a riot of colour - soon sparkling sky -
As Titan sinks now in a sea of fire.
Bright trace remains- although the day must die -
The sinking sun to night almost retired
In what will be a darkling mess of stars
Which mix full soon in moonlight's shining bars.

The dying light, with pink and scarlet shot
Through with indigo, and purple fading rays
Spans the sky now - above our Earthly lot
With colours dancing as the twilight fades.
This Sydney night hangs still and heavy - hot
The gloaming gone as darkness now invades -
Then all around me tends to soft charcoal
As true night time comes upon my soul.

Gravestones lean in odd black silhouettes
Jumble stones which cover these old lives
So old now that their ancestors forget
To tend these plots where memory survives.
With all feelings gone - of joy or of regret -
There is an angels face which now contrives
To show her rotten features old and pitted -
As the full Moon haunts her broken visage.

Where once she was an angel on a grave
She's now a broken whore - with hair cascading -
With nothing left of looks except to save
So little of for which she was created.
Maybe her former beauty now she craves -
Her weathered looks I stare at facinated;
With orange sandstone sparkles in her face
Now lending to this moment a strange grace.

The dark water stains from lost ancient rains
Run down her face - to etch and pock each feature -
For she cries black tears now - nothing remains -
To the ravages of time she doth surrender.
Broken lips over broken teeth - her lost refrains;
And nothing I could say would ever reach her;
Time flows endlessly - in rivers of deep sorrow -
And a broken angel, weeps for a lost tomorrow.


© lovecanbereal
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The Demon Mistress of last night's horror,
Dreams away in sacred little fancies;
And sick the morning after to abhor,
Now that she has cast her necromancies.

The dark last night was one of restless sleep,
In the shadowland 'tween wake and slumber;
T'was dragged to sink in Morpheus' deep,
Arms there to forget and not remember.

She's a woman - (though I've not seen her face);
As floating gently, in seas quite fathomless,
I'm then roused a little by her unquiet grace;-
To be plunged into an ocean bottomless.

My life force and my energy desire;
Is taken by this ghastly Succubus,
She mounts me in my sleep - my rod of fire,
Thrusts upward, and into her nothingness.

She wants it all, to drain my energy;
The rhythm of her hips now grows more frantic,
I'm helpless to resist too young to die;
She stops me at my peak in taunting tantric.

I start awake now drenched in sweat and shaking;
I hear a she-cat shriek in piteous cry,
Mewling at the midnight moon and taking,
Weak souls to their dreadful destiny.




© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

Rap a tap,
Not feeling the vibe
Rap a tap.
Information online

Sending a text
Information untamed.
The aftermath can send us insane.

Rap a tap,
Quick to release.
Into the world like a raging beast.

Connection to the world.
Just one tap away
Yet we treat in so nonchalantly.

Rap a tap,
No checks just release
Rap a tap,
Deletion the impact dose not decrease.

Rap a tap.
Be careful what you text.
But you’re not alone.
Millions rap a tap away.
Ironically with very little to say.