Tag Archives: Dark Poetry

Tragic Painting 

Crawl inside this decorated masterpiece. 

Crawl in the garden of this hollow fairy tale. 

Crawl in the trenches to gasp for air.

Crawl inside this lost graveyard. 

~

Crawl inside this wound of romance. 

Crawl in the river between anger and hate. 

Crawl in the carnival to laugh at despair.

Crawl inside this forgotten casket. 

~

Crawl inside this broken melody, 

Crawl in the words of this pale chapter.

Crawl in the tainted memories. 

Crawl inside this tragedy without a trace. 

The Hawthorn Tree, Fire, and Waterfall 

She mumbled words of Dylan’s poetry staring at the waterfall. Often times she sits Indian style below the Hawthorn tree. She reflects upon her childhood and her insides become numb. She has tried for years to store these memories in a treasure chest without a key.

She spoke two words of pain gazing into the fire in the distance. The fire reminds her of those two words “Stop” and “Please.” She has tried a lifetime to erase the distorted glimpse of his face.

She spoke a thousand words in therapy in her 30’s. Often times she drives by the Hawthorn tree and see its aged. The fire is no longer there. She is a poet, writer, with a heart of copper.

She published a book of a hundred thousand words in her 40’s. The words that drip from her tongue feel like the waterfall. She is educated, accomplished, and respected.

As Her Mascara Runs


The silver bracelet falls on the crooked pavement as her mascara runs.

Her bedazzled mindset sits in a empty jar.

Her pockets are empty as she fumbles for the keys.

His presence consumed her existence.

He stood as a curse with deranged tattoos.

She is entwined in failure, mediocrity, and her bones are as fragile as her captive heart.

She raised the white flag but clearly he didn’t recognize her surrender.

The discomfort and turmoil scatters through her veins.

The ache and lost flame disappeared in their youth.

She has outgrown his lack of maturity.

She drove away recognizing to move forward was to let go.

Shadows of Amber Leigh

 
Amber stares into the kaleidoscopic sky. She was baffled about her net worth, value, and the choices she made over the stairway of decades. She shrugged her shoulders even though the weight of conviction was a thousand pounds.

Amber stomped her feet on the hollow ground. She was perceived as having a heart of a mannequin. The shadows of Amber Leigh began to fade into the twilight. She craved the attention and ate up the selfishness with a big spoon.

Amber’s affection was treated like a doormat. She often blamed others for her state of disarray. She rarely ever looked inside of herself, focusing on the end result and the limelight. The fame was an addiction. She ignored the applause of the crowd.

Vision of Amber Leigh 

She woke up to the sound of her barking dog. She walked down the wooden steps to see her mother finish up packing. No goodbyes nor serenades. Amber saw her walk out carefree. Amber’s father was working on his pride and joy in the garage for the 12th day in a row.

Amber Leigh set her sights on being the bright lights. The vision she created in her twinkling eyes never went dim due to her tattered childhood. Amber needed to prove she was someone. Neither parent gave her the time of day nor did they spare a nickel.

Amber leaped on to the sinful streets. She danced around a pole in the dark entertaining lonely rich men. She craved the attention she did not get. Amber Leigh became a house hold name in the naked skin world. The vision of Amber Leigh has now become distorted.

Cold Hard Itch 

I’ve scratched the surface,
Seeking something I’m not good at being.
Staring at the mirror is harder than I thought.
The cold hard itch isn’t what I want to feel.

I’ve crumpled the paper,
Disliking the words that I have chosen.
Staring at a page feeling like a chameleon.
The cold hard itch isn’t what I want to know.

I’ve ignored the taste,
Fearing what will swallow me whole.
Staring at a chapter that I treasure.
The cold hard itch isn’t what I expected.

Rattlesnake Postcard


A restless strawberry blonde is posing for a pick up line.

The lipstick reeks desperate measures to fill an empty void.

The nicotine is vile as the band is warming up by playing the Allman Brothers.

Charlie stumbles in through the door cursing his ex wife’s name.

The bartender chuckles as he is pouring shots of Jack Daniels for the bachelor party in the corner.

The conversations feel dyslexic as the customers become trashed and plastered.

Some are trying to find the answers at the bottom of a glass.

Some are trying to celebrate a victory, milestone, or wash away the hollow shell.

Amanda never talks to strangers unless she has a beer in her hand.

Jackson is patiently waiting to make a transaction with Charlie.

This is the place for a midnight rendezvous.

The kegs are slowly disappearing.

The bottles are empty just like the customers that walk into the “Rattlesnake”.

I was just reading the postcard from Charlie and things haven’t changed.

Bittersweet Asylum 


She walked unbalanced,
standing cockeyed and moonstruck.

She glazed over the dim perceptions,
Seeing the reflection in the cracked rear view mirror.

She witnessed the crowd in her mind walk away from the ballet.

She prayed to the statues because it was something she could see and feel.

She ignored the spasms of the heartbeat but held on to the crooked insanity.

She fumbled through the masquerade without anyone seeing her voiceless face.

She endured the hecklers in the bittersweet asylum.

She left the podium with her tragedies but left the festival decades ago under the decaying sun.

The Lost Scarecrow 


Through the autumn fields the dark sky casts shadows of summer.

A lightening bolt strikes at midnight.

The bewitched scarecrow crawls out of the isolated barn.

The monster inside the scarecrow is now awakened.

The child inside the beast screams for his mother.

His mother of reason’s skin has become ashes.

The agony that the scarecrow holds becomes weight on his shoulders.

Time has made him the lost scarecrow because no peace was made with his loss.

The lost scarecrow’s heart has melted away.

He lives in the barn where he has watched his mother cry oceans of pain.

The lost scarecrow has finally made it to the lake of change.

He closes his eyes of anguish and falls into the lake to wash away the burden.

He is now sitting on the dock with flesh.

Reborn.