Tag Archives: dark

Happy Birthday XIX

Gray shirt, gray day, gray life,
Artificial wax candles, haphazardly placed,
Blood splattered face slammed into the dust

Of the cake, cut irregularly,
With the dullest blade, bleeds its painful velvet,
Drips into a murky mess of cold lumps,

Cement in our mouths,
Cupcakes upside-down,
Fire-lit table, orange-red raging by our ears,
We hear anger and frustration in the flickers
Of the screaming wax candles.

Screaming happiness onto walls,
Meaningless in their hopeful meaning,
Achieving nothing with mere words
Regardless of volume.

The only indication of special-ness,
The blood bending in my heart and stomach,
Reminding me that I am nothing,
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Hugs and kisses, XOX

Poète Maudit II

Darkness, dainty, dashing, disastrous, wrap your arms around my waist,
Make me feel better, clothed in your black magic, healing
Darkness, touch me with your texts, tomes frozen in time,

Telling tall tales, indecent adventures, inspiration for yet another
Night, let me nestle into the crook of your neck,

Gentle caress, carrying me off to nightdreams, feeding off dark essences,

Night, tell me of your treachery, trick me into thinking you are my safety,

Sedate me, let me sink into your vast blackness, where I can be blind to the world’s cruelty
Shadows, subtly whispering secrets, sneaking forms with silent sources

Subdue me with your invisible touch, such sweet surrender

Shadows, let me in on your private words, private world of wandering,

Souls pumping dark blood, fluid lies
Darkness, night, allow me to stay in your melancholic comfort,

Shadows for company, shadows of company,

Your arms around my waist,

Strait jacket to hold me back


Poète Maudit

Poète Maudit

Lingering on the edges of society,
Dark fringes, cliff (hangers) of the world,
Cursed life, such strife, eternal battles,
Fought with feeble words, genius, unnoticed.

Melancholy, macabre, mad
Angry black ink stains, yet uniform,
Sensical in their nonsensical marking
Universal, unmisunderstandable,

Yet not unmisunderstood until death
does he part,

In his night without day,
Debts unrepaid, familyless, moneyless,
Wealth only in inspiration,
Yet there’s lack of motivation,

–Until funeral bells toll, then pen scrawls,
O, the potential of a dead body
in his beautiful,
unimitatable
poetry.


Poète Maudit II
Poète Maudit III

Labyrinth

Inconvenienced in every way,
saddened and limited everyday.
Formerly, in the warmer season,
she could go anywhere within reason.

Now, she sits inside,
listening to those faces chide.
So badly, she wants to hide
her own face that had cried.

Restrictions and conflictions
affect her every action.
Never will she grasp independence,
for her “family” is relentless.
Relentlessly caring, repentless in taking,
easily faking, lies in the making.

Touching, tearing, trying,
she heeded no warning.

Eventually, she found her way out,
the pieces of labyrinth scattered about.
Under the layers, she found the map,
now, it is perched upon her lap.

To the X she will go,
with nobody else, no.

Unrestrained, she stepped outside,
into the sunshine where she can’t hide.
She is finally out, leaving all behind,
out of the labyrinth that is her mind.

A Found Poem: Barely

Alive,
moving slowly.
daily the same deprived souls struggle along.
eyes weeping, hearts barely beating.
swollen limbs thrown aside,
we hung on in agony,
heads leaning weakly.
no longer hungry,
still, it troubled me; it tasted of despair.
condemned crouching upon death.
I gave my all, slightly not enough.
Wake up!
Dead.


A “found” poem from years ago. Sadly, I don’t remember the original piece.