Last Commented Dark Poetry Poems (2,485)

At night when I shut out the light, I fear something is creeping...
Behind closed walls, and through dark halls, I hear dark spirits speaking...
And tears they fall, albeit small, I feel my spirit weakening...
And though I've wept, I have not slept, my fears keep me from sleeping....

This decision of mine, it is not of my choosing...
Nor do I need to explain with false words...
Cast me now into the refiners fire...
The suffering I've endured is absurd...

I will disavow all promises...
As I stand upon the edges of time...
Time that has lied...
Eyes that have cried...
Lies that divide...
My cries are denied...

Torch this wretched product of inhumanity...
Saturate my soul which doth' surely suffereth...
Reverse time, and destroy every last strand of my being...

It is only you Dearest Father...
That is capable of removing me from all of existence...

Do not send me to spirit-worlds...
Do not send me to space...
Remove every last molecule and fiber of my being...
Without leaving a trace...
I wait no longer for Your Eternal frozen flames....

Silent shadows
running thru everglades,
Silence molds clouds
all-day

Silent moonlight
bouncing thru cypress trees,
Silence swings low thru
the gate

Yet
when my heart
is with you
its shield breaks
oh Lord how it breaks
in the most
tender way.

Silent snowflake
falling like a dancing ghost
Silence two steps across
the lake

Silent stones
cobble no thoughts,
Silence gives my heart
away

I met her
in the winter
in a bar
upon the hill

when the dark
was carved by starlight
and the moon
had paid the bill

I stepped in
from the wilderness
from the howling
wind and rain

I was weary
from my journey's
around other
people's pain

"you are bearded
broad and ugly"
said the prairie girl
in fright

not one
for moralising
we shared our bones
that night

I told her
of my story
from the famine ships
I came

in a world
of madness hunger
where I killed men
to my shame

corruption
took our homelands
our humanity
and our dead

I hated a world
that priced our lives
in the currency
of bread

I left her
at the dawning
as a coyote
fought the moon

one night
was our forever
she'd be over me
by noon

my journey
is a lonesome one
thrown far
by a devil's hurl

so I bellow
out two fires
for the prairie
and the girl

Unseen
Silent your there
Can't be seen
You wander
You lurk
Victims you seek
The weak the volunable
The sick
Victims of all to the ends of earth
From victims breath you lurk
You don't care
For your the killer of the weak

peggy sue.. got blue
as her man
he ran away
and left her
with a cabin full of bills

It's true.. she knew
that he'd up
and leave one day
and she slept
beneath a bottle
full of pills

and this bottle
eased her pain
bouncy castle's
for her brain

and she worked
her fingers
to the bone..

.. and the only friend
she had
was bein'
alone..



peggy sue.. like you
had dreams and plans
and schemes
voted
most likely
to rule the world

she tried..
and cried..
and cried and tried
some more
as the years
got caught by winds
and were unfurled

there's a hole
in mamma's brain
where all the pain goes
and that is life
and life is hard
I suppose
.
big dogs
do have big ears
its the same
with blood and tears
sweet bones
dont last too long
on broken rodeos

peggy sue
died too
in the fall of 85
after serving
in her own
domestic war

and bottle was put away
and her kids
went seperate ways
to a place called
god knows where

with god knows who

As a child I recall such horrible visions...
Staring at four corners of the room in my prison...
Spirits would appear in such abhorrent conditions...
And torment me, I felt no choice, yet made my decision...

Lacking toys that normal children play with as kids...
A broken mirror, most pieces clear, I formed a crude sphere...
What was I to do?......I longed for light in the dark...
A spark of thought, I do recall, I'd lost all my fears...

I summoned several Demons through a process of prayers...
They dared me to surrender on invisible chairs...
Then handed me a laser and said...'child don't fear'...
'Just point the light, into the shards, no need to be scared'...

As light reflected into the first piece of sharp glass...
It's speed continued to proceed....it went very fast...
It traveled from one broken piece, then into the next...
Complex it was, the Demons knelt.....'Twas Satan at last...

'Confused' is not a word that I would use to describe...
The feelings that the Devil made me feel deep inside...
He offered me some candy in exchange for my soul...
His goal was done, Lucifer won, a fallen Angel's Son.....

Damned by alcohol, our convict forebears;
Put a pub on ev'ry corner of old Newtown,
A night in Newtown - nothing compares -
(This suburb by its pubs, still has renown);-
Places for daydreams, and for quick affairs -
They are not formal - you don't need a ballgown;-
I can count at least five, or six, or seven;-
For drinkers, this is a kind of "God sent" heaven*.

This night a young man finds himself adrift,
In a big city - Sydney (to be exact);-
And from his mountain home - there is a rift;-
From what's familiar - he can't re-enact.
His former life - how reality does shift!,
Place and Time, and Time and Place react;-
So as to produce a strange perplexity;-
City life in all of its complexity.

A young man finds himself, at age eighteen,
In Newtown, in the dirty inner city.
A strange place, where things aren't as they seem;
(For a country lad, much more's the pity;-
In some ways knowing - although far too naive);-
So I must continue my poetic ditty,-
(By a ditty - I only mean these stanzas;-
Not the whole of life's extravaganzas).

My Newtown, (jaded Newtown) - an old whore;-
A faded jaded lady, down at heel,**
What you first see, you see, then so much more;
(Tonight reveals the bums, and the genteel);
Where students, derelicts, and junkies score;-
(She cloaks herself in night - so to reveal);-
Innocents find a fantasmagoria;-
If she had a ladies name - it be Gloria.

King Street winds, in serpentine complexity;
Like a river, down into St Peters;
Here you find every type of humanity,
From the wealthy, down to the Metho drinkers;***
Dulls the senses, of the night's black vanity;
A brilliant jewel, is to what this verse refers;
Australians, and other Nationalities,-
Into this melting pot now find finality?

The Beatles, and of Lucy's Sky with Diamonds;-
And how, at times, things seem like plasticine,
Trees, and palm trees, with their dark black fronds;
Lurched up before us like figures of glacine;
And paraded on the streets - the demimonde;
To Erskineville, we walked a dark ravine;
Through night's brocade - in all its strange regalia;-
To the bosom of the Rose of Australia.

Still, things seemed like an oddity we dreamed,
In this hotel Steve^, and I bought schooners,*****
The trip had not worn off (or so it seemed);
Overhead the full moon, white and lunar;
Silvery moonlight down upon us streamed;
I then wished I had finished my beer sooner;
As all about me patron's skeletons;
Were seen bereft of their clothe's curtains.******

It's not surprising, then, we fled the hotel,
And walked along the molten plastic streets;
Through Alexandria^^ - factories, and hovels;
Then, suddenly, the rain fell down in sheets;-
Before subsiding to a gentle drizzle;
Then we found ourselves on Boundary Street;
I said to Steve "I need to take a piss"
Beneath a street light - diamonds from my d*ck!

In this strange way, our trip came to an end;
(I think we walked back, but I can't recall);
"All's well, that ends well" ^^^- I can recommend;
You take a trip, or take one not at all;
Please yourself; although never do pretend;
That you have seen what I have seen - don't enthrall;-
Or guild your memories, with pretense false;-
Be honest now, and honest with your self.



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there are many issues in the world today, but mike forgot them all and shells out millions for his campaign so hey,mike you"ve got to grow some more. put your billions in things that will make you taller.your taller than napolean. you have to be a moron to believe this man. how can he get it done when he can"t even get it up!! the animals told me that they:ll never back someone who gives so much money to run a losing campaign. the vote is in. you can be president of the turkey farms,at least you"ll be president of something. i"m a democrat only because i loved john f kennedy. his own country killed him.

Like a moth into the light,
the world is ours to unite,
so purified, as we ignite,
and toss ourselves into his flame,
to free ourselves of nature's blame.
His hunger, habitual.

Like a whore of hearts lament,
our fate is ours to regret,
so mortified, as we forget,
and drown ourselves within the sea,
to wash ourselves at his decree.
His avarice, immortal.

I curse thy life, we leaveth thee behind.
Thee not worthy of the dragon's sight,
wash thy sins, or beget the blight.
As burning winds are blowing south,
we throw ourselves at the dragon's mouth.
The dragon cult ritual.