Here is a list of Dark Poetry Poems ordered by Last 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.
online today!My 100th Poem
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
All rights reserved
(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
All rights reserved
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2017
About this poem:
I hope this explains some of the themes, behind my previous poems.* Some use of irony here.
Angst
Demons
Rip
My skull and
Pierce
My brains ….
My soul
Wells
Lonely
Emptiness….
My bruised
Wounds
Scar
In laminations
Of an
Ethereal
Psychosis….
Sanity is
Leaving me…
Bad Luck
Oppresses
Me as a
Beast from
The underworld …
I am torn and
Fragmented
Like broken
Pieces of glass…
I sing a
Requiem
For my sad soul……
Rip
My skull and
Pierce
My brains ….
My soul
Wells
Lonely
Emptiness….
My bruised
Wounds
Scar
In laminations
Of an
Ethereal
Psychosis….
Sanity is
Leaving me…
Bad Luck
Oppresses
Me as a
Beast from
The underworld …
I am torn and
Fragmented
Like broken
Pieces of glass…
I sing a
Requiem
For my sad soul……
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2020
About this poem:
It's a poem on personal angst.
Black Magic
Wing of bat, Eye of newt,
Those of skill know I speak truth,
Candles made of human fat,
Spirits will contact,contract,
Laws of magic, snap, react,
Languages spoken, old, dead,
Barely remembered, so rarely said,
Hearing the voices in my head,
Down the darkest paths I'm led,
Few will follow or dare to tread,
For fear is in the hearts of men...
Those of skill know I speak truth,
Candles made of human fat,
Spirits will contact,contract,
Laws of magic, snap, react,
Languages spoken, old, dead,
Barely remembered, so rarely said,
Hearing the voices in my head,
Down the darkest paths I'm led,
Few will follow or dare to tread,
For fear is in the hearts of men...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2015
About this poem:
Some dark stuff...more coming...
Silhouette
It's just one of those days.
I told you all things to remain.
In the middle of the night.
When I couldn't get my pills.
Before I lose my mind again.
Hours after hours.
I'm already dead.
The moon is disappeared.
The sun is gone.
Where will I belong to?
Jesus? Death? Mother? You? my demons?
It's just one of those nights.
The candle burned inside of me.
I'm dead but I don't want to die anymore.
Sometimes,
Just once in a while.
In a second your It's just one of those days.
I told you all things to remain.
In the middle of the night.
When I couldn't get my pills.
Before I lose my mind again.
Hours after hours.
I'm already dead.
The moon is disappeared.
The sun is gone.
Where will I belong to?
Jesus? Death? Mother? You? my demons?
It's just one of those nights.
The candle burned inside of me.
I'm dead but I don't want to die anymore.
Sometimes,
Just once in a while.
In a second your silhouette haunt me.
Show me you there.
Even if I can't feel it.
-Vivian Lin
I told you all things to remain.
In the middle of the night.
When I couldn't get my pills.
Before I lose my mind again.
Hours after hours.
I'm already dead.
The moon is disappeared.
The sun is gone.
Where will I belong to?
Jesus? Death? Mother? You? my demons?
It's just one of those nights.
The candle burned inside of me.
I'm dead but I don't want to die anymore.
Sometimes,
Just once in a while.
In a second your It's just one of those days.
I told you all things to remain.
In the middle of the night.
When I couldn't get my pills.
Before I lose my mind again.
Hours after hours.
I'm already dead.
The moon is disappeared.
The sun is gone.
Where will I belong to?
Jesus? Death? Mother? You? my demons?
It's just one of those nights.
The candle burned inside of me.
I'm dead but I don't want to die anymore.
Sometimes,
Just once in a while.
In a second your silhouette haunt me.
Show me you there.
Even if I can't feel it.
-Vivian Lin
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2019
About this poem:
One day when you relapse and you do really need someone as a companion to comfort you, someone you expect to be your best side to at least giving you more time, but they were all gone and disappeared. So the only thing you could do just write everything on paper like I do.I know people have their own business.
So since that day I never beg for their time. Never beg for attention etc. People will make time if they want to. If they're not, just walk away.
Lottery Ruined My Life
I have just won the lottery of two million dollars. I say this as the money I recieved after the taxes were taken out. It has been about a year and you ask how much is left? Answer, I am broke, nothing is left. Where did it go? Here is where it went. New cars for my whole family, plus gas, insurance, repairs = 300,000 dollars. So now we are down to 1,700,000. So then it's eating out every meal for me and my friends = 40,000 dollars. New house and land = 1 million, so now we're down to 660,000 dollars. I gave 10% to the church, so that's 200,000 dollars, now we're down to 460,000 dollars. I got to pay my bills and I spent 1,000 dollars a day at Walmart, Cabelas, the Mall of America, etc. So there is where the rest went as well as 10 movies a week, popcorn, pop, etc. etc. So here I am 275 pounds, broke, my friends who I took along on this journey are all over 200 pounds as well and we are more miserable than ever. The lottery ruined my life, don't let it ruin yours!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2012
About this poem:
This is based on real people who have won the lottery and 90 percent of all football athletes who end up blowing their millions on frivolous things like limos, private jets, and fancy meals.We're In Trouble...
We're all in Trouble,
All in Trouble,
When The Lord Returns We're All In Trouble,
We follow devils,
And worship Idols,
My library alone has 13 Bibles!,
13 Bibles...!,
13 Bibles...!,
My library at home holds 13 Bibles!,
Confusing virgins, {versions},
Men put their words in,
Ask Jesus Christ why's human life so worthless,
I search for purpose,
But follow devils,
That worship Idols,
My library at home holds 13 Bibles!,
It's scurry hurry,
This funny running,
And nobody can get enough of money,
It's disgusting,
How we follow devils,
And worship Idols,
My Library at home holds 13 Bibles!,
13 Bibles,
12 disciples,
What cursed Lord would fill his words with Riddles?,
The truth is simple,
We follow devils,
That worship Idols,
My library alone has 13 Bibles!,
From everything I read we're all in trouble,
Its easy to see,
We're all in trouble,
Yeah...,It's plain to me,
We're all in trouble,
Ye..., Apparently we're all in trouble,
Whatever you believe we're all in trouble,
Alien or not,
Maybe pagan ancient gods,
No matter what they want,
We're all in trouble...,
All in Trouble...,
If Anyone Returns...,
We're all in Trouble...,
All in Trouble,
When The Lord Returns We're All In Trouble,
We follow devils,
And worship Idols,
My library alone has 13 Bibles!,
13 Bibles...!,
13 Bibles...!,
My library at home holds 13 Bibles!,
Confusing virgins, {versions},
Men put their words in,
Ask Jesus Christ why's human life so worthless,
I search for purpose,
But follow devils,
That worship Idols,
My library at home holds 13 Bibles!,
It's scurry hurry,
This funny running,
And nobody can get enough of money,
It's disgusting,
How we follow devils,
And worship Idols,
My Library at home holds 13 Bibles!,
13 Bibles,
12 disciples,
What cursed Lord would fill his words with Riddles?,
The truth is simple,
We follow devils,
That worship Idols,
My library alone has 13 Bibles!,
From everything I read we're all in trouble,
Its easy to see,
We're all in trouble,
Yeah...,It's plain to me,
We're all in trouble,
Ye..., Apparently we're all in trouble,
Whatever you believe we're all in trouble,
Alien or not,
Maybe pagan ancient gods,
No matter what they want,
We're all in trouble...,
All in Trouble...,
If Anyone Returns...,
We're all in Trouble...,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
Song...
the pub on poet's corner
I was mending a hull 'neath the crying gull
when the call came down the line
my dad had gone.. his time had come
and a world of hurt was mine
left my girl to anger swirl
told her "needed space"
but I was dust.. not even lust
could the hurtin' I replace
time dragged on when I was gone
my love I failed to warn her
about the rendezvous I shared with you
in a pub.. on poet's corner
"I'm the ghost of every girl you've loved"
your spectre said to me
I'll haunt your mind.. till you go blind
and then I'll let you be
and the bird that nested in the eve
fed its young in Byron's sleeve
in the pub
on poet's corner
hence every night my daily fight
is a scramble to emerge
strong and well from the bowels of hell
where the dark and madness merge
where music from the walls
is bled
by DJ spectres
and souls undead
and the bird that nested in the eve
told me that I'd never leave
the pub
on poet's corner
when the call came down the line
my dad had gone.. his time had come
and a world of hurt was mine
left my girl to anger swirl
told her "needed space"
but I was dust.. not even lust
could the hurtin' I replace
time dragged on when I was gone
my love I failed to warn her
about the rendezvous I shared with you
in a pub.. on poet's corner
"I'm the ghost of every girl you've loved"
your spectre said to me
I'll haunt your mind.. till you go blind
and then I'll let you be
and the bird that nested in the eve
fed its young in Byron's sleeve
in the pub
on poet's corner
hence every night my daily fight
is a scramble to emerge
strong and well from the bowels of hell
where the dark and madness merge
where music from the walls
is bled
by DJ spectres
and souls undead
and the bird that nested in the eve
told me that I'd never leave
the pub
on poet's corner
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2019
Post CommentIs this a life or is this my death
My life dead my wife dead,
How can I find life when everything's dead Inside outside,
Why take my life why do you think I get into strife I am the underword, I'm am immortal, how you say you know me,
I'm not alive you are, I don't know why you believe in life we are all dead, well I have read, so are we alive or we dead? These are the voices the haunt my head, I once was happy, now I want to die, how come no one else was insane, I say this as a gift I'll soon be dead, I have had enough of life it's scrarred my head, I want you to know and learn I'm not doing it to hurt I have learnt death is better then life, I have been there many of times, one day we will see and I'll come back and tell thee, what life use to be, a matrix of lies
How can I find life when everything's dead Inside outside,
Why take my life why do you think I get into strife I am the underword, I'm am immortal, how you say you know me,
I'm not alive you are, I don't know why you believe in life we are all dead, well I have read, so are we alive or we dead? These are the voices the haunt my head, I once was happy, now I want to die, how come no one else was insane, I say this as a gift I'll soon be dead, I have had enough of life it's scrarred my head, I want you to know and learn I'm not doing it to hurt I have learnt death is better then life, I have been there many of times, one day we will see and I'll come back and tell thee, what life use to be, a matrix of lies
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2019
About this poem:
Just circumstance
Whose is the real monster?
Get out of my face!
Before i pull this trigger,
On someone lousy fate,
Saw you sleeping with my brother!
Damm if i let you live,
Poison words that i believe,
You're not getting another chance,
Screwing another man's life around!
b*tch you came on to me,
Made a fool out of me with your sobbing tale,
And then i saw you sneak out,
Who the Hell did you go out to meet?
Should've known when you said your name was Ivy,
And that you are a healing witch,
Caught you humping cowgirl on your doctor!
And now you're calling me a monster!
Before i pull this trigger,
On someone lousy fate,
Saw you sleeping with my brother!
Damm if i let you live,
Poison words that i believe,
You're not getting another chance,
Screwing another man's life around!
b*tch you came on to me,
Made a fool out of me with your sobbing tale,
And then i saw you sneak out,
Who the Hell did you go out to meet?
Should've known when you said your name was Ivy,
And that you are a healing witch,
Caught you humping cowgirl on your doctor!
And now you're calling me a monster!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2013
About this poem:
i got tis inspiredpoem from MrLeo617
while reading his poems
if i was the lover betrayed
wit a Magnum gun in my hand
would i pull the trigger
or would i walk away. . . .
On matter how bad it seems
or what hands fate plays you
No one has the right
to play God or Death!
Katrina
I thought I was a good poet
but then again not.
I tried my best to connect
but had a proficiently in failing
more than want.
So here I am slumming in
the street of New Orleans.
Maybe you have met me.
Maybe not.
No worry, I treasure yesterdays
more than your want.
but then again not.
I tried my best to connect
but had a proficiently in failing
more than want.
So here I am slumming in
the street of New Orleans.
Maybe you have met me.
Maybe not.
No worry, I treasure yesterdays
more than your want.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2019
Post CommentPoems 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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