Evans
Evans? Yes, many a time
I came down his bare flight
Of stairs into the gaunt kitchen
With its wood fire, where crickets sang
Accompaniment to the black kettle"s
Whine, and so into the cold
Dark to smother in the thick tide
Of night that drifted about the walls
Of his stark farm on the hill ridge.
It was not the dark filling my eyes
And mouth appalled me; not even the drip
Of rain like blood from the one tree
Weather-tortured. It was the dark
Silting the veins of that sick man
I left stranded upon the vast
And lonely shore of his bleak bed.
Submitted by Andrew Mayers
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas

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You, the Dark
Dark, She is the mind of yours.
Icy chill of thought becomes
A steely shimmer.
Behold a glimmer in the black -
A flash of grey, that even glows
In show against the hallowed dark of you.
And that is why you scream in jarring tones
'I have no heart for joy!
My white and brittle bones have died'
You cried in dark and fractured moans.
So now the Queen of Black you writhe,
Whence from dark of shade
That honed an evil form afar;
In curse of me you bade:
'I, the wave shall rape the shore!
Violence will there be in glares I'll throw
At all who prey, and more:
A dark and fetid sea I'll bleed.'
And now, the bitter tinge
And bleak of waste
That eyed the death of once your soul
Will here forever be!
Indeed you tell:
'The cramping pain is here!
Eternal spasm, infinite chasm,
The Devil's chaplain plays!
We'll climax in a tortured glee
As all my love decays.'
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Dark dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark
Dark dark dark
Dark dark dark dark dark
dark dark dark dark dark dark dark darkdarkdarkdark
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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The First Tooth
There once was a wood, and a very thick wood,
So thick that to walk was as much as you could;
But a sunbeam got in, and the trees understood.
I went to this wood, at the end of the snows,
And as I was walking I saw a primrose;
Only one! Shall I show you the place where it grows?
There once was a house, and a very dark house,
As dark, I believe, as the hole of a mouse,
Or a tree in my wood, at the thick of the boughs.
I went to this house, and I searched it aright,
I opened the chambers, and I found a light;
Only one! Shall I show you this little lamp bright?
There once was a cave, and this very dark cave
One day took a gift from an incoming wave;
And I made up my mind to know what the sea gave.
I took a lit torch, I walked round the ness
When the water was lowest; and in a recess
In my cave was a jewel. Will nobody guess?
O there was a baby, he sat on my knee,
With a pearl in his mouth that was precious to me,
His little dark mouth like my cave of the sea!
I said to my heart, "And my jewel is bright!
He blooms like a primrose! He shines like a light!"
Put your hand in his mouth! Do you feel? He can bite!
poem by William Brighty Rands

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Shadows are my sun
Ive fallen in a hole
so deep, dark and cold
No one is there
no one to hold
My eyes are bloodstained
tears and they fall to my
lips
My plams are scratched with
blood, it trickles to my
fingertips
My blood is cold and my veins
are ice and my hair is dark
dark like night
I sit in a dark corner
shadows are my sun
I fare myself,
what have i done
I pick up a mirror
but fail to look
I will only see an unknown
place so i put down,
myself i cannot face.
poem by Nicole Buckland

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Dark Night
Dark dark night storm over me
Dark night is a holy blur
Dark dark night stop taunting me
Dark night and I think of her
Dark dark night I'm so lonely
Dark night why leave in me such a mess
Dark dark night I feel so much
Dark night filled with nothingness
Dark dark night please please
Bring the light
poem by Ary Bolanos

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From My Room
From my room I hear
The wind blow
Strings from icy harp
Filling the dark
Now outside
The morning comes with night
And leaves with night
My heart is in dark
Like flickering light
Pounding on and on
Through to dreams gone
In the dark clouded sky
With beams of low sun flight
Time slowly passes by
With shadows left to right
From my room I hear
Where I now dwell
The dark voices near
Of iciness and its cartel
Strings from icy harp
Filling the dark
Now outside
*Federico García Lorca once wrote:
“From my room I hear
The water jet
A finger of grapevine…”
poem by Peter S. Quinn

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Krishnakali
In the village they call her the dark girl
but to me she is the flower Krishnakali
On a cloudy day in a field
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She had no covering on her head,
her loose hair had fallen on her back.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelleeyes.
Two black cows were lowing,
as it grew dark under the heavy clouds.
So with anxious, hurried steps,
the dark girl came from her hut.
Raising her eyebrows toward the sky,
she listened a moment to the clouds' rumble.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
A gust of the east wind
rippled the rice plants.
I was standing by a ridge,
alone in the field.
Whether or not she looked at me
Is known only to us two.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
This how the Kohldark cloud
rises in the northeast in Jaistha;
the soft dark shadow
descends on the Tamal grove in Asharh;
and sudden delight floods the heart
in the night of Sravan.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
To me she is the flower Krishnakali,
whatever she may be called by others.
In a field in Maynapara village
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She did not cover her head,
not having the time to feel embarrassed.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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Death of Dusk
The sun resigns,
bleeds out the vestiges –
remnants of the day.
Exsanguination edges into twilight:
red-brown hangs;
upwards darkens:
blue-brown,
blue-black,
death-black,
disquiet – furtive,
like ghoul-ridden fog.
A sombre moon assumes its role,
gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape –
a prequel of supernatural undertones
to chill the scene,
ice the spine,
kill the brain –
we have unnerved the very firmament.
But now a shadow closing down the globe:
dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze,
claims the late hour –
declared in a dying crow caw.
I, the hidden owl
– nemesis of claustrophobic minds –
awake! for mammal flesh –
fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death.
Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness
with my crooked night-tree,
emanating nocturnal allure.
Together we scowl
together we play the dark
upon the land and sky
and mind
while you lie as dead in your box.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark
dark dark dark dark night
dark dark dark dark night dark dark dark dark night
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Dark dragon wings
Skies beneath black wings
That binds and lashes winds
Knight of the night ride dark
Brash flames rain to burn lark.
Cast on the castle as thunder
And shadow the land under
Dark wings they've a hole and tear
Dark dragon through red eyes stare.
The skies defence revel in mist
And dawn a kingdom to resist
This warrior wear blood of night
As dry air burns in to light.
Dark dragon in skies dark your hidden
Rapture and reign the forbidden.
poem by Andrew Lockley

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Tears of Blood
It's dark and cold in this room, the feel of cracked busted wood floors on my skin as I am thrown against it, and millions of long splinters pierce into me.
blood ripples out of the little pain ridden holes, and falls into the cracks, but no sound of drops come from the dark never ending oblivion were my dreams are lost to never be found.
It feels as if my heart runs cold, my mind runs blank, my stomach turns to fire, and my vomit turns to blood.
The walls are closing in around me till the life is squeezed out of my soul.
My bones cracking and crunching, my blood flowing out of my veins and burning the darkest most vial red, my heart pounded stabbed crushed and beaten until no pulse is herd, till feelings were nothing but fear and pain, now I'm left in this dark corner, alone and crying cause no one has come to save me from this hell!
poem by Jacob Gifford

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Incantation
A white well
In a black cave;
A bright shell
In a dark wave.
A white rose
Black brambles hood;
Smooth bright snows
In a dark wood.
A flung white glove
In a dark fight;
A white dove
On a wild black night.
A white door
In a dark lane;
A bright core
To bitter black pain.
A white hand
Waved from dark walls;
In a burnt black land
Bright waterfalls.
A bright spark
Where black ashes are;
In the smothering dark
One white star.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie

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When Evil Comes
I don? like this anymore than you
In fact I? scared
At the top of the stairs in the dark
Throw away all the dreams you had
Slow and broke
And just for you
You were barely there
Hey little girl where? your momma gone
Has she left you scared
At the top of the stairs
In the dark
It? too late for come backs
And I?e been wrong before
Now I need
I need no more
Except for you
Making up the sides
Evil is when evil comes
At the top of the Stairs
At the top of the Stairs
And in the dark
The world won? listen
And it gets this scared
Standing there at the top of the stairs
In the dark
Come on baby
Let? lose this fear
And let? stand here
Where it? always fair
And never dark
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drip, drip, drip
tears roll down my face
drip, drip, drip
that's all I hear as the tears fall
in the dark
I sit alone as blood runs down my arm
and mixes with my tears
drip, drip, drip
my door is locked
my knife is a deadly scarlet
getting closer every time
to the veins I desirer
drip, drip, drip
I push the blade deeper into my arm
it hurts but it's a good pain
a knock at the door
I grab my friend and scream
as I find the veins I want
drip, drip, drip
my mom walks in as I fall to the floor
my dying words to my mom
'I live no more'
she rushed to my body and calls for my dad
I smile as they see my pain
drip, drip, drip
as my blood hits the floor
my mom screams my name
I smile once more
and say good bye
my mom screams ' why god why? '
the last words I heard were a plea for help
until the final
drip, drip, drip
poem by No Reason To Care

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Anne, Oh Anne
Anne, oh Anne how you bleed
Your veins scream of rain
Confessions fading on the leaf
Your pain spilt on the grain
Candy from their little jars
Inebriates your muse
Dark and light stirred inside
Your breath exhaled, confused
In your room, dark and cold
A blade held to your soul
Carves the niche of memories
That walls could never hold
Voices drip in cold thin lines
Crawling slow to death
Maggots eat away the will
To steal your final breath
Vapors warm and black as night
Seep in to snuff the flame
And lays to rest the whispering winds
That you tried so hard to tame
poem by Leria Hawkins

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A Blackbird Singing
It seems wrong that out of this bird,
Black, bold, a suggestion of dark
Places about it, there yet should come
Such rich music, as though the notes'
Ore were changed to a rare metal
At one touch of that bright bill.
You have heard it often, alone at your desk
In a green April, your mind drawn
Away from its work by sweet disturbance
Of the mild evening outside your room.
A slow singer, but loading each phrase
With history's overtones, love, joy
And grief learned by his dark tribe
In other orchards and passed on
Instinctively as they are now,
But fresh always with new tears.
Submitted by Andrew Mayers
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas

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Melancholy wintertime thoughts
Its cold outside and the fire
Crackles in the hearth, sends forth
Merry sparks to conceal you from
the dark.
You will not let the fire dim,
Because you know they will come in
All the wonderers in the dark.
All the dancers in the dark all the lonely
And the old, those from before who are
Here searching through the dark.
The peikko and the shamleg the journo and the ancient one
who slides on his belly, seek refuge in the dark.
The beast with many horns and he who
sleeps the day seek refuge in the dark.
So draw near to your little fire, throw on
A log or two. Think not of the beasts of winter and
they wont care for you
Dark Night, Dark Blood (couplet)
Dark night, dark blood
Blood that is as dark as mud
Stains the life of many afar
Stains the blackness of the tar
Dark night, dark blood forevermore
Blood in the night and on the shore
poem by D'Anna Abril

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The Wood And The Shore
The low bay melts into a ring of silver,
And slips it on the shore's reluctant finger
Though in an hour the tide will turn, will tremble,
Forsaking her because the moon persuades him.
But the black wood that leans and sighs above her
No tide can turn, no moon can slave nor summon.
Then comes the dark: on sleepy, shell-strewn beaches,
O'er long pale leagues of sand and cold, clear water
She hears the tide go out towards the moonlight.
The wood still leans… weeping she turns to seek him,
And his black hair all night is on her bosom.
poem by Muriel Stuart

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Darkness And Daylight
You love the day, worship the light.
You mourn the setting of the sun, hide from the night.
I?
I curse the light of day, though most would praise and cheer.
I say if there were no light, the dark would hold no fear.
How would we feel about the dark if the harsh bright sun had never shone?
We would not wish for light!
For we would know the dark, alone.
It is the harsh, stark light of day which makes the dark of night seem cold.
Dark is bad and light is good, or so I have been told.
But without the dark, what would be the light?
What would a day mean, if we had no night?
poem by Lynda Remus

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Three Dark Shadows
Three dark
Shadows lurking
In the dark park
On a dark night
One leads
The two others
Follow wearing
Black raincoats
On a dark road
I lead
I tell them
My name
My work
My place
The two
Did not follow
Since then
They realized
Perhaps that
With what
I tell them
I am blacker
Than black
On a dark
Raincoat
On a dark
Park
On a dark
Road
&
In my dark
Mind
It would
Be so hard
For them
To follow
Through &
Through.
They quit
They split
&
So I
Walk alone
In the dark
As one lonely
Shadow
Darker than
Dark
&
Now
It is you
Here
Following me?
In fact
We change
And it is
You
In effect
Who is
Leading me
Through
These lines
Flowing
Slowly
Gradually
Getting
Darker than
Dark
You have
Indulged &
Surely
You are
Involved
Deeply
Long enough
You win
& lose…
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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40
Three dark
Shadows lurking
In the dark park
On a dark night
One leads
The two others
Follow wearing
Black raincoats
On a dark road
I lead
I tell them
My name
My work
My place
The two
Did not follow
Since then
They realized
Perhaps that
With what
I tell them
I am blacker
Than black
On a dark
Raincoat
On a dark
Park
On a dark
Road
&
In my dark
Mind
It would
Be so hard
For them
To follow
Through &
Through.
They quit
They split
&
So I
Walk alone
In the dark
As one lonely
Shadow
Darker than
Dark
&
Now
It is you
Here
Following me?
In fact
We change
And it is
You
In effect
Who is
Leading me
Through
These lines
Flowing
Slowly
Gradually
Gettin g
Darker than
Dark
You have
Indulged &
Surely
You are
Involved
Deeply
Long enough
You win
& lose…
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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