Category: Dark

Dark poems from the dark corners and corners. Those dark places that have no names or addresses in my psyche.

The Warrior

I am the warriorWarrior

sure and true.

I feel the hate

thick blood in my brain.

My love is like my hate

Thick

powerful and sweet.

I love to hurt.

I hate to love.

I was the child.

I am your fear.

My eyes burn.

So far so near.

*

When I was born

the universe screamed.

People cried.

I hurt.

I was.

My Innocence

My innocence has condemned me.Innocence

The life I want so sacred to me.

Knowledge has made them hate

despise

loath

what we have.

They do not see my child

my innocence.

With no understanding

they cannot comprehend.

So minds twist

in disgust

contort in misleading

misunderstanding.

My innocence

so vulnerable to the shadows

to the dark of night.

I feel hate and it disturbs me

it’s evil and it hurts me.

Aches, hangs and sags my mind.

Distorts me

and my face.

My innocence will always be

will always strangle my understanding

will keep me blind and numb

to their thoughts.

Their sinister ways.

To their all knowing insight they don’t have

for they do not believe.

Serving Self Denial

Slow soul-serving silenceSelf Serving

Fleeting noise

A cold defiance

Stuck with words

I cannot speak

Hand so gentle

touch my cheek

*

Serving self denial

so close to heaven

so much like hell

The serpent twists

round the holy grail

Slow ring-a-rosie

and from grace I fell

*

From the cup

she takes a sip

Approaches close

licks my lip.

The Broken Throne

Broken Throne

The broken throne

of something past

He was first

I will last

Make the mold

break the cast

The broken throne

of something past.

*

I kill the urge

of mortal sight

Do you know

what’s wrong – what’s right?

Me and all

my mortal might

I kill the urge

of mortal sight.

*

In fleeting moments

death draws near

In all defiance

I show no fear

When he’s close

life is clear

In fleeting moments

death draws near.

*

I cannot see

wood for tree

I cannot see

what’s good for me

I lost it down

on waters edge

I lost my crown

in a thorny pledge

I tried to save

a mortal soul

and fell…myself

in this mortal hole

The cross was not

my idea

My sweat and blood

no mortal tear.

*

The broken throne

of something past

He was first

I will last

Make the mold

break the cast

The broken throne

of something past.

On the Brink

I’m on the brink of some great event.

Something large and heavy is hurtling toward me.

I can feel the rumbling in the ground.

Hear the thunder.

Feel the shift in the air.

The unsteady winds whipping.

I’m about to fall off the edge.

Backwards.

Falling to disaster.

A new beginning?

Let me see…let me see.

The Evil Fantastic

Black sleek

silver flashes

Lightning in the night

Shiver-shining across scales

of the Black Beast

Claws of yellow bone

hard and scarred

Knuckles

powerful hinges

Fingers

scaled and slender

Tendons of wire

*

Face filled with hellfire

washed with blood

and flamed flesh

Eyes yellow

hot

Black slit

Tongue

forked and fang flanked

Evil intent on its solitary mind

Deep within its burning brain

In it’s ribs seeth and stoke

the demons

Big bat cloak for its cloak

and for its flight

It’s tail for the fight

The Evil Fantastic.

The Beckon.

SmokeNight after night I fight this obsession

With a slow entwining death

that squeezes my chest.

Little by little stealing away

choking.

My air possession.

Dawn after dawn I indulge again.

Add a spark to the flame

that burns my core

numbs my senses.

Sinks it’s tar-black talons

into the flesh of my brain.

Day after day I hasten the final call

tease closer the reaper,

Beckon like a beacon

to the pall.

From dusk to dusk I wish to break

the coil.

That a moth spirals toward a flame.

The constriction of habit

of breathing away

my endless toil.

,,,

3/6l98 – on smoking.

Monster.

I hurtMonster

therefore I am

therefore I die.

*

And all the voices all around me

were the voices in my mind.

And all the voices in my mind

rose like smoke from the ground.

Made me weep

turned me blind.

*

And in the stillness of my coma

was the wreck of a broken heart

And in the silence of my eyes

was a sole torn appart

I see love…it swiftly dies.

*

Perhaps I’m too naive

I was always innocent.

Love was always loved.

Hate was just resentment.

Perhaps I’m too naive

I was always innocent.

I learned to hate

through other’s contempt.

I lost my innocence

when I learnt what it meant.

*

I hurt

therefore I am

therefore I die.

*

I always believed that if I loved someone, I’d be able to freely express my feelings.

People hate and fear what they cannot understand, cannot comprehend.

They call it a monster.

I am a monster but take comfort…I’m still loved.

Grey

There was a little grey man

in a little grey suit.

Shoes neat ‘n tidy.

He got up at morn

and went on the world’s way

into the orderly grey yonder.

His little grey wife worked at home

his little grey kids at school

to be like their little grey father

in the Big Grey World.

One day the little grey man died.

They put him in a little black box

buried him in a hole

and forgot about him.

The Big Grey World had other little grey men

in little grey suits

with shoes neat ‘n tidy.