Nets Of Perdition
No one swings this way
under chalky tangerine skies
where crowded rooms resembled
the white noise of the highway
and its vigilant nostalgia
The equipoise of day and night
creates a velvet sheen upon us -
in different angles and degrees
life and death passionately osculates
hatching demise over and over
In a saturnalia, valiancy
brings you to the hilt of bliss
but when the moon cascades and
when inebriation leaves the soiree
the hollowed chamber reeks of regrets
The nets of perdition
extends its resilient breadth
into our furtive rumination
like how shadows fell
into our brazen nights
You see yourself cringe
with unanticipated bleakness
amidst happy places
reveling in wine asunder
and the chasm is bottomless
from holding your individual darkness
poem by Norman Santos
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Lonelier Than Alone
I found a labyrinth
that desires to be traversed
and I have thought of no one else
but your memory
The fluttering numbers
now reckoned asunder
with your sudden rebirth
it could only whet the daggers
kindling the vesper
I wallowed in this empty room
with florid riddles
but no one to excavate
the wisdom hidden
Nothing in the moon's penumbra
is immense like its demise
even the blue ether
lied
In the undulations of your
superfluous departure
the darkness had encumbered
the heaving chamber
of vacant words
And in this desolate time
after the moonshine
drains your interpolating echoes
while the shadows of yesterday
goads the bleakness
that came to me tonight
without remorse
I am lonelier than alone
as I stubbornly yearn
for what I had abjured
poem by Norman Santos
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Moon Shade (acrostic)
My eyes beheld a shadow of light.
One mid spring mysterious night,
Only the moon could shine so bright.
Nearer to the wooded crest in my sight,
Shadows glimmer amidst the leaves of green.
Heavens glow falling now I have seen.
Amidst the obscurity a growing sheen,
Darkness blends to enhance the scene.
Each moment I gaze at this, so serene.
poem by Cecil Hickman
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Tangerine
Tangerine, turning green
Cellophane, window pane
Socialise, paralysed
Plastic faces suck me dry, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine
Chorus:i know its sad, lifes just a piece of fruit
Touch down, new ground
Stop living on the moon - (repeat chorus)
Twenty eight, suffocate
Take a ride, see me fly
Detonate, feel it break
See myself disintegrate, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine
(chorus)
See it as I climb, the rain burns in my eyes
So catch me as I fall away, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine, tangerine
(chorus)
I know its sad...
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Superfluity of Her Petals
In the dark of the pitch black velvet
Of the town's fluttering skies, she;
A rose, with quaint petals of solitary
Cries and somber interpolations
Scars the escritoire that could never
Bleed for her marred verve and demise
Saliently in silence she stirred the ripples
Of quietude and eviscerated the scorches
Perched upon her poreless skin
In the heraldry of emollient light orbs
Dangling in asunder lampposts parceling
The slumbering hostile doors and windows
Creating latticing shadows to eagerly dispose
The svelte prism of pristine strangeness
Austerely ensconced in this odorless town
Where motes plummet down eagerly
Whetting the lackluster sheen of her
Mystical redolence of truancy
Like an arachnid she spun her home,
Her grave, her trap, inside her bones
Like an arachnid she swings rooftops
With a silver thread in the semblance
Of a lynch and of an eloquent lace
To bind the mistral spell in the haze;
Her laces creates a psychedelic marquetry
That only few people can grasp and see
Those who danced with the shadows,
Those who pounced with the fall,
Those who quaffed the tea and spew
The pseudo-saccharine innuendo,
Those who plucked the thorns
Crawling the ladders of your hue,
Are here with me for you.
poem by Norman Santos
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Sonnet – Amidst
Amidst pitch -black darkness, God shows a light;
Amidst a Forest thick, He shows a way;
Amidst black clouds, He brings a moonlit night;
Amidst sorrows, God gives a happy day.
Amidst the desert, Oasis God shows;
Amidst the stormy Sea, He brings calm;
Amidst much strife, He opens newer doors;
Amidst much hopelessness, a helping palm.
Amidst tempest, God shows a bright light-house;
Amidst the glaciers, much sought-after peak;
Amidst our solitude, He gives a spouse;
Amidst the ravines deep, the lost lamb meek.
Amidst the chaos, God ushers new hope,
Amidst the gloom, He gives the church a Pope.
poem by John Celes
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Nocturne [Nocturnă]
That night the moon resembled a skull that through a blow
By guillotine was cut, then dumped into the Sea –
A head, which the dark billows, with a malicious glee
Towards the beacon rolled, which in the port did glow.
That night the moon resembled a ball of shining twine
Which fell from the right hand of God, who in this life
Ties and unties all people, forgives their sin and strife
And makes them leave the winter to meet the spring divine.
That night the moon resembled an amber nice to see
Detached from the Christ's belt, who died as a meek sheep
To rise again and banish the deep and dreamless sleep
And sanctify His cross left on the Calvary!...
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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War...
war creates fighting that kills everyone...
war creates hate where love should be...
war creates tears that will never dry away...
war creates pain that wont go away...
war creates sadness that wont feel better...
war creates destruction that will take too long to fix...
war blinds us of what’s right or wrong...
war steals us of the right to be happy...
war creates gaps that keep us apart...
war creates a fire you cant put out...
war drops bombs on our hopes and dreams...
war creates children without a father, no one to tuck them in at night...
war makes it hard for a parent to say “everything will be alright” when then don’t even have anyone that they can say “good night”.
war scars a child's mind with things they cant erase...
war makes a good nights sleep a living hell...
war creates nightmares that are never-ending dreams and then, just screams
war creates guilt that eats you alive inside...
war makes you see things that make you scream inside...
war creates scars when all you've seen is blood and more...
war only leaves death when every body drops to the floor...
war creates silence after it ends, so how long till it starts again?
and when all the willing that will fight, die and say their last good night
the war will end, the living will mourn, all for peace but what was it all for? For all those people who died, just so now everyone alive, can do nothing to cope but cry...
Age 14
poem by Alexander SaPonte
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Antimatter
Solitary moon makes a silent ascent,
penetrates into blue sky.
Night is cool, careless,
throws long shadows.
Undulating wind unfurls a tree.
My thoughts are pinned down to a nostalgia,
unbutton a grief.
Even the death has a charm.
Into every choice there is a hollowed one self-center,
anxiety begins, makes a crouching trail.
It is the untouchable, stillness, which hurts.
Passon for survival softens the blow.
I become moment of truth filled with anguish.
Another life begins with swooping dawn,
the soul sprints out of the emptiness,
darting on the brink of darkness.
The sun seeks the windy arms,
the innocent side of the world.
Soon the day will ride on antimatter.
poem by Satish Verma
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A Season of Wine and Roses
Remember when the wine was red,
and the rose was red, as well ~
and how the two were wed as one,
when the sunlight softly fell.
The pinkened kiss, the gentle blush,
beneath a soft, green canopy ~
and wine flowed there beside the rose,
'til sunlight set on autumn's eve.
And there within the autumn's breath,
came an orange and golden kiss ~
that found the wine and lovely rose,
beguiled by summer's bliss...
remembering when the wine was sweet,
and the rose was a budding bloom ~
and velvet was the reddened wine,
when the red rose danced in June.
Thinly brown, with winter's death,
the vine and thorn entwine ~
and wait impatiently for spring,
when, once more, a life they'll find.
And now upon the chilling wind,
there's a whisper that gently fell ~
'Remember when the wine was red,
and the rose was red, as well'...
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Night-Bound.
Comes the night that brings me rest,
Comes the dark that folds me in
This of all my nights the best,
Nights of virtue, nights of sin.
I can hear a water moan,
And it seems no mortal tide,
But my own grey life that's gone
With the darkness to abide.
Ah! beyond the veil I pierce —
See my pain and pleasure done
In a mouldering universe
Without stars and without sun!
Through my warm red veins the chill
Of Death's coming seems to creep,
Till the world grows ghasty still
To me in my lonely sleep
So I cease: this night is mine;
Other nights for other things!
Comes the gloom that is divine
With the peace for me it brings.
poem by Robert Crawford
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To The Edge of Despair Worry Took Me
To the edge of despair worry took me
and the bottomless pit I could see.
Then the awful chasm opened wide
and I felt myself falling inside.
Slipping and sliding as I went down
and in the bleakness began to drown.
All dark and sombre it seemed to be
I wondered what would happen to me.
Then deeper and deeper in I fell
and I thought I'd fallen into hell.
How long I was there I do not know
for each day dragged on so very slow.
When at rock bottom I called out
to the Lord my God Who heard my shout
and in the depth He reached down to me,
lifting me out and setting me free.
Some Silent Way to Cope
Does humanity have hope
To find some silent way to cope
With the white noise in the head
Moaning softly through the dregs
Charred and burnt off ends of dreams
Fertilize the fallacy
Echoing through greyscale rot
Sadism amidst deep thought
Throwing its shadows to the skull
'Til medicated slumber lulls
Stinging psychopathic pain
The only path to flee the rain
That winds its way through all deplored
As mental strain comes back for more
Breaking the bells' sweet euphony
Stripping bliss of its company
While the only place to be alone's
Perdition in an eight inch dome
Oh joyous is the day we find
That existence is a waste of time
Yalda
Wolves cried for the moon's return
Along with the aubade of the beaus
Beating themselves for their truant muse
But I am not amongst these paramours
And their torrent brawls with oppression
Because in this prolonged dark vesper
You will never be my shattered moon
For you are its very absence -
You are the darkness that enwalls me
And this tryst - a pilfered time
In consummate darkness where everything -
The somnolent sands of time,
The weeping banshee of the yesterday,
The weaving arachnid of the tomorrow,
The city's vindictive rules and calculations,
The prison of the soul, the rhythm of hearts;
Lost their keen eyes in senility
And in this parallel plane
That scarcely comes like the wind
I need not to touch you
For it is enough to know that you
Remained askance in our individual meanders
And that you remained a part of me
Hiding in my gigantic shadows -
An immense night unraveled
By the moon's peripatetic escapade
While these nights are blind we intertwine
In a sea of unreality and fantasy
You are my labyrinth of darkness
That I pleasure to get lost with
With empty hands and a slivered sky
The moon away and somewhere else
I rekindled with you, my darkness;
My nights of stolen moon; my yalda.
poem by Norman Santos
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Quite Pollue
Asunder me from this plane of existence
Where ephemeral defeat coils down into
Perpetual scars that meanders deep
Rising every full moon regardless
Of the infinite susurrations of the harlot
Whiffs of bliss, evanescent whips
Dabbing the stings of death
Lead me down to the ethereal trance
Of perpetual demise, a consummate defeat
Withholding concrete bliss in the margins
Teetering out of keel, out to kill
This coarse grating feel
poem by Norman Santos
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Night owl for Friend Colin
The sky a layer cake of hues
from darkest greys to palest blues.
The sun has set and daylight fades.
The birds have sung their serenades.
All noise is hushed as darkness falls.
The shadows vanish from he walls.
As curtains drawn against the night
deprive them of the yellow light
that’s cast from windows far and wide
Confining shadows to outside
The living rooms kept warm and bright
perhaps because men fear the night.
But I do not I am content
the darkness is my element.
28-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Vera Pim
As I sit upon this ancient tomb of the dead
and watch the clouds pass the moon.
I feel the damp and cold in my bones
and wish my life would be over soon.
For too many years I’ve felt like this.
Life just isn’t what it used to be.
The exciting lust for life I used to have
has changed to relentless monotony.
My appearance has definitely deteriorated
and my clothes have seen better days.
The mystique of which belonged to me
has disappeared with my elegant ways.
I am now looked upon as a down and out
when seen in the shadows of the night.
Time is not my friend like it used to be
and starvation will soon douse my light.
The last of my teeth fell out some years ago,
which is the cause of my demise.
My honourable code forbids me to kill
and to drink from the one who lies.
For centuries mortal man has given me life,
I’ve toyed and drank their blood as well.
Alas I have no regrets for being what I am,
but without dignity I must soon go to hell.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Desperate Heart
One night, one empty room, one man gettin over you
One star, one lonely moon, I make a wish, I know will never come true
You call my name, and you beg me to hold you again
But the truth remains, Im only a fool who cant help but pretend
Chorus:
Its all over but Im holding on, I cant let go until the love is gone
Its all over but I keep holding on with a desperate heart
With my desperate heart
Some nights, I try in my mind, I see myself learning someone new
Still I know, Im wasting my time, no one can take the place of you
So I close my eyes, I swear I feel you here by my side
But its all only a lie, I need to believe for my heart to survive
Its all over but Im holding on, I cant let go until the love is gone
Its all over but I keep holding on with a desperate heart
With my desperate heart, I keep holding on
(guitar solo)
All this time Ive been drowning in hopeless illusions Im keeping inside
That someday youll walk out of the shadows and back into my life
Its all over but Im holding on, I cant believe your love for me is gone
Its all over but I keep holding on (with a desperate heart)
Yeah with my desperate heart, I cant let go until the love is gone
(all over but Im holding on) I keep holding on
(all over but Im holding on) I cant believe your love for me is gone
(all over but I keep holding on)
(all over but Im holding on)
(all over but I keep holding on)...
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deep In The Middle Of The Night And Beyond
deep in the middle of the night
and even beyond
this darkness
in my solitude
below the stars and the
full moon
i sit in the form of the lotus-god
praying
there is this silence
contained in the circles
of divinity
this is the throne of the ear
the bed of the mind
this bridge
between God and Myself
the strong silence amidst
all the noise
the glitter
amidst this cacophony
of a tarnished
silver
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dark Poetry - Dark Love
It is a night of dark desire,
A song of darkness,
Wolves howl and vent their anger,
The immortal one wakens,
Wisps of death shroud her elegant form,
A timeless desire,
Her raven hair cascades over pale shoulders,
And her blood-red lips part, smiling,
White fangs gleaming, she tastes the blood of life,
A Night Of Darkness,
An evil thirst
poem by Kieran J1996
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Snow White
In a sea of darkness,
Amidst an ocean of silence,
Rustling trees in the wind,
Creates a nostalgic scenery.
A subtle mellow drama,
A ghastly feeling,
A strange chill down your spine;
A scene that creates a mixed feeling!
The drama unfolds,
With the appearance of the protagonist!
She appears with the cloud,
As a veil, like a bride!
She is dressed in pure white;
An ageless and timeless beauty!
The Serene Moon.
poem by Vivian Thompson
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