Poetry Everyday

[EMS]

I have a book half full of poetry and a couple of people read it and said it was pretty dark. Not sure where that book is, I don't remember them off of memory. I used to write poetry leave it in a church with a white rose in remembrance of my son. I'm sure it touched quite a few hearts.

 

[NavyRet]

You want dark? Here's dark. I wrote this about 30 years ago.

What's it like to be dead I cried, and heard Death say to me:
I'm cold, I'm hard and it's a long, long ride from here to eternity.
Breathe on me Thy breath, O Death,
And make my bones dry as the heath.
O wrap thine ice fingers 'round and with Thy chill'ed breathing bound
My throat, my chest, my body all and with me through Oblivion fall.
Then lay me in a sealed tomb and wait with me in wakeless gloom.

 

[Edna]

Ashes and Stars

We are made of dust and fire,
Born to climb, to break, aspire.
But every flame must one day fade,
And lie beneath the stone and shade.


Still, ashes rise and stars ignite,
And what was lost returns to light.
So mourn me not with bitter cries,
But lift your face and watch the skies.


For there I'll be, in silent flame,
A flicker whispering your name.
No grave can cage what love has known
You'll find me when you stand alone.

 

[Edna]

If Love Were a Garden

If love were a garden,
I would plant you at the center,
where the sun could kiss your leaves
and the rain could sing you awake.

I would tend you gently,
pulling away the weeds of doubt,
watering you with every word of kindness
I could find.

And when your roots grew deep,
when your blossoms turned
to colors unseen before,
I would not claim you as mine—
for love is not a cage.

I would simply stand in awe,
grateful to have watched you bloom,
knowing that even if the seasons turned
and petals fell like tears,
your beauty would remain
in the soil of my soul forever.

 

[EMS]

You want dark? Here's dark. I wrote this about 30 years ago.

What's it like to be dead I cried, and heard Death say to me:
I'm cold, I'm hard and it's a long, long ride from here to eternity.
Breathe on me Thy breath, O Death,
And make my bones dry as the heath.
O wrap thine ice fingers 'round and with Thy chill'ed breathing bound
My throat, my chest, my body all and with me through Oblivion fall.
Then lay me in a sealed tomb and wait with me in wakeless gloom.

It's dark without the mention of death or anything to do with death......nice one NR

 

[Edna]

The Hollow

Beneath my ribs, the hollow hums,
A cavern carved by death that comes.
It drips in echoes down the bone,
Where once I dreamed—I dream alone.

No heaven calls, no hell replies,
Just static stitched through empty skies.
I reach for ghosts that do not stay,
They flicker, then they fade away.

The soul, if such a thing exists,
Is not a flame, but fog and fists—
A wound that walks, a scream unfurled,
A shadow feeding on the world.

 

[Edna]

The Unburied

I buried him, or so I thought—
With roses red and silence bought.
But still he walks behind my eyes,
With broken teeth and lullabies.

The soil rejects what mourners weep,
For death, my friend, does not mean sleep.
It gnaws the soul, it stains the light,
It dances coldly through the night.

He whispers truths too sharp to say—
That peace is just the price we pay
To not remember what we've done,
To not become what we outrun.

 

[b1u3eyes]

Some things vanish.
Others become language.

A star dies in silence.
But the metaphor it leaves behind keeps speaking.

Some people burn loud and fast,
but leave nothing worth repeating.

Others live like quiet truths
and leave behind stories that stay.

 

[Edna]

Soul Rot

The soul is not a gentle flame—
It rots, it writhes, it starves for name.
It feeds on pain, and wears a grin,
And coils like smoke beneath the skin.

It isn't clean, it isn't white,
It's forged in filth and fed by night.
The saints all rot, the devils feast—
And both are bones beneath the beast.

So burn the prayers, and break the glass,
This life is not a thing to pass.
It grips, it drags, it never ends—
The soul decays, but never bends.

 

[Edna]

Hardship

The nights are long, the bread is thin,
You wear your grief beneath your skin.
The world won't stop to catch your fall,
It watches cold, if it sees at all.

But still you rise on splintered feet,
With nothing left, and no retreat.
For even when the sky won't bend—
You walk, you fight, you do not end

 

[b1u3eyes]

Two men looked out from prison bars,
One saw the mud, the other saw stars.

 

[Edna]

Hollow Lantern

My soul is a hollow lantern,
swinging in the wind of endings.
Its light has guttered,
the wick drowned in its own wax.

I feel the cold breath of the grave
curling into my lungs,
teaching me to exhale silence.


Beneath my ribs,
a black ocean rises,
and somewhere deep inside it
a single bell tolls,
calling my name
again and again
until the marrow answers.