Dark Poems | Poemist

Popular Dark Poems

Disabled

by Wilfred Owen

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-

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Waterfall

by Lauris Dorothy Edmond

I do not ask for youth, nor for delay
in the rising of time's irreversible river
that takes the jewelled arc of the waterfall
in which I glimpse, minute by glinting minute,
all that I have and all I am always losing
as sunlight lights each drop fast, fast falling.

I do not dream that you, young again,
might come to me darkly in love's green darkness
where the dust of the bracken spices the air

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Borderland

by Henry Lawson

I am back from up the country -- very sorry that I went --
Seeking for the Southern poets' land whereon to pitch my tent;
I have lost a lot of idols, which were broken on the track --
Burnt a lot of fancy verses, and I'm glad that I am back.
Further out may be the pleasant scenes of which our poets boast,
But I think the country's rather more inviting round the coast --
Anyway, I'll stay at present at a boarding-house in town
Drinking beer and lemon-squashes, taking baths and cooling down.

Sunny plains! Great Scot! -- those burning wastes of barren soil and sand

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Sestina

by Elizabeth Bishop

September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.

She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,

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Smoking

by Elton Glaser

I like the cool and heft of it, dull metal on the palm,
And the click, the hiss, the spark fuming into flame,
Boldface of fire, the rage and sway of it, raw blue at the base
And a slope of gold, a touch to the packed tobacco, the tip
Turned red as a warning light, blown brighter by the breath,
The pull and the pump of it, and the paper's white
Smoothed now to ash as the smoke draws back, drawn down
To the black crust of lungs, tar and poisons in the pink,
And the blood sorting it out, veins tight and the heart slow,
The push and wheeze of it, a sweep of plumes in the air

......

Recent Dark Poems

Shadow Waltz

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Born in brilliant rose dawn, when dreams were still possible,
I'm a silent ebony shadow, who has never felt the fiery sun.
In cool, dark regions I live, where colors have come undone.
Yet, in this world of dazzle, it is I who ofttimes feels invisible.

But I am all that it is, waltzing on the far side of gold beams,
Until the time of my cheerful undoing, in the rich noon hour!
Then flower scents whirl, as my creator flourishes his power,
Before mellowed afternoon, when he lets me reign supreme!

The Mirror

by El Mann

Little Billy Chapman was a good boy he was,
Madam mummy and sir daddy he dared not cross.
"Go stand in the corner!" the teachers would say,
At the lunch table the mean kids often chased him away.
But for little Billy it was not all bad,
For special company he always had.
In the dark solitude he did find
A magic mirror of some kind.
His little secret the world did not know,
The mysterious magic he swore to never show.

......

Until the Music Spots

by Brendon Hall

Strolling in the evergreen park so slow
Head sinking to the speckled concrete
The cracks mirroring a broken sentiment
Press play and a sweet song blares
Then the black veil lifts ever so slightly

The feeling unsustainable yet welcomed
Vibrations echoing deep through each fiber of being
Melancholy holds no sway in this domain
The beat builds as runners pass by in cardiac bliss

......

Hell of a Life

by Brendon Hall

What a time to be alive!
Living in a world where morals have been commodified.
Will you be a leader that assists in shattering the oppressive cycle of societal decay, or will you be yet another redundant cog in this malevolent machine?
Most of us live in denial of the impending doom we’re marching towards, yet the majority fails to realize we’re already living in a dystopia of our own creation.

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?
I don’t know about you, but I see a reflection that matches our society as a whole:
An entity that’s almost unrecognizable, broken, and emotionally drained.
A being that wants to do what’s right, but is rarely incentivized to do so unless it’s broadcast to an audience in order to portray virtuousness.

......

Daytime Torment

by Victor Ambiguo

Such loudness is the king of day
Above the sky. Oh, what a noise!
No whiskey can subdue his pain
As sun rays cry like feral boys

When daylight rains, it pours for sure
When green trees sway, they breathe like trolls
His head pounds on, it begs for thoughts

Nature screams

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