A Dozen Dark Poetry Pieces: Rhummi, En Silence and Changing

Like I said in the first quarter, I stumbled on this piece, but they were mesmerizing. I was looking for pictures of deep sea creatures (they scare the hell out of me and yet mesmerize me at the same time) when I came across a picture that looked like a perfect picture prompt. When i went to the site I saw a lot of other interesting pictures, so i decided I’d do a short poem on all of them. Check HERE!

Some of them are just PERFECT for some stories I had planned to upload here… so don’t be surprised when a picture pops up in other corresponding stories! Read them and tell me what you think…

Pretty Cool Huh?

I picked about a dozen so I’d be posting in threes. So… enjoy the second quarter of the poetry series!!!

Rhummi

Mystery is the most overwhelming of all concepts existing

You find yourself plagued with so many thoughts

That could or could not define the dead or the living

In a bid to overcome the vacant feeling of knowledge’s droughts.

 

Mystery itself might take a form, but not a name

Represented in a haze as literal as it is metaphorical

With bloodshot eyes like those that have lost sleep over the unknown, and a mane

On which resides the unidentified object that scrambles our coherence of the metaphysical

 

Pale skin representing those shut in buildings

Laboriously trading sunlight for the insatiable thirst for new knowledge

Discarding color in the pursuit of findings

But never satisfied with the few they manage to salvage

 

Mystery loves that it evades definition

And fights for its freedom in the form of a lack of coherence

For what man cannot handle, God for that reason

Hid them in the shadows, allowing limited knowledge of their existence.

 

 

 

 

En Silence

The eyes are the window to the soul

Where the heart and mind merge to express themselves in one form

Only those who look well enough can see in a whole

What the mouth would like to speak, but cannot bring forth

 

Our lips are sealed, in life and in death

By pride, affliction and a loss of life

Amongst many other forces, in sickness and in health

In success, failures, peace and strife

 

Even those who speak loosely or in abundance

Don’t stop talking because they feel they haven’t expressed their innermost thoughts well enough

Our core will forever be trapped in silence

No matter what part of ourselves we reveal; the smooth or the rough

 

A girl walks forlorn, cloaked in the dark

Her huddled figure ignoring your call, but she doesn’t take flight

You reach out to touch her, her short wispy hair searing on your skin like a freshly made mark

And she looks at you, and you’re overwhelmed by her screams, even as her lips are sewn tight

 

 

 

 

 Changing

Change starts from within and ends with the manifestation of the physical

It could come naturally or be induced

It is the representation of the concept of life down to the metaphysical

A constant force that can never be removed

 

A lone nymph hidden in the forest, becomes one with the wild

Trading mobility for durability

Thick strong bark once skin so mild

She embraces her idea of surety

 

Trees live longer, she thought,

And know no pain

But time passed without a doubt

And man had come to the forest to reign.

 

They brought the axe, they brought the sword,

And the dear nymph had no legs to run

The might oak had fallen to make the Queen’s bed,

And the poor woman would not each night, escape the sound of that last groan

 

 

A Dozen Dark Poetry Pieces: Marie Antoniette, Snow White and Dreamcatcher

Like I said in my last post, I stumbled on this piece, but they were mesmerizing. I was looking for pictures of deep sea creatures (they scare the hell out of me and yet mesmerize me at the same time) when I came across a picture that looked like a perfect picture prompt. When i went to the site I saw a lot of other interesting pictures, so i decided I’d do a short poem on all of them. Check HERE!

Some of them are just PERFECT for some stories I had planned to upload here… so don’t be surprised when a picture pops up in other corresponding stories! Read them and tell me what you think…

Pretty Cool Huh?

I picked about a dozen so I’d be posting in threes. So… enjoy the first quarter of the poetry series!!!

No, Snow White, No

No, Snow White, No

Don’t ignore your instincts telling you to flee

Don’t push back the fear welling up inside when you know

That she’s likely to be more than the frail old woman she appears to be

 

Vanity evolves into bitter disdain

Hatching plans to remain the fairest

Innocence radiating far more than needless pains

Pale skin and a light heart overshadowing the darkest

 

No, Snow White, No

Don’t listen to the voice telling you not to trust

Not to reach out for my gift and give it a try

You’re the reason I’m here, accept this you must

This isn’t the envy, or jealously even

It is merely a misconception to correct, a title to redeem

I’ve worked too much to be the fairest; your beauty alone couldn’t have been

Enough for you to be held in high esteem

 

 

Marie Antoinette’s Revenge

No, I meant not to do it

You didn’t believe me then

Your judgement was swift

And for me that was the end

 

But regret kept me breathing

In the darkness of my grave

Turning my confusion to loathing

Spurring me to be brave

 

I couldn’t stand up for myself then,

But I guess I can now

As I break from my den

At my feet you all shall bow

 

The axe you know not of, was placed at my feet

As I stick my head back on I hold on deftly to this instrument of revenge

I come in my pretty dress, formerly sweet,

And whatever I do now, I meant to do it.

 

Dreamcatcher

The web of your dreams spun in your mind

The gossamers intertwining as you fall deeper in sleep

Forming a complex design that forever binds

In your subconscious hidden deep

 

Why then, do we forget

Most of our dreams as soon as we wake to reflect?

Why do most of the sweet sensations and terrifying appearances met

Fade from our memory when we try to recollect?

 

The gentle caress of her heavily ringed fingers

As she traces our minds with her pointed nails

Her hair is made with the cobwebs of the memories of the old that lingers.

And her clothing from the fibers of the vibrant youth that sails

 

Your personal thoughts are sealed in her soft kiss

Your secrets she does not care to reveal

Her horns crown her, more valuable than her jewels as they drain the bliss

And the terrors our minds unveil

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Demented Poet II

I’m dedicating this piece to a good friend Archangel. Please check out his work on YouTube and support the debt of poetry expressed beyond paper. He’s not demented though,  he’s just an amazing poet.
Encourage the Spoken Word!!! 🙂

THE DEMENTED POET: PART TWO

 I am staring at a well,

Clear with a soft chiming… like a bell

I know it’s impossible to hear,

But I’m well aware, of the powers this well can bear

 

I’m waiting at the well,

Diane should be out anytime soon.

I helped her down the well,

But she’s not been out since the last full moon.

 

The moon reflects in the well,

Red like the image of hell

I suddenly see my dear Diane in the well

And that was when I tripped and fell

 

I’m falling down the well

Flames instead of water entrap me in this cell.

I hear the soft chiming— like a bell,

And Diane’s screams, I sure can tell.

 

I wake up, and there’s no well,

And Diane is alive and well.

I never killed her, we were never dead,

So I guess it was all in my head.