Least Read Dark Poems
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Evil poetry and morbid poems about death and horror
Find an undiscovered masterpiece in the DU Poetry least read poems.
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
- Missy -
Poem Published
16th Apr 2017 7:16am
16th Apr 2017 7:16am
XV: Cernunnos (Tarot Series)
(haiku 5-7-5)
two femurs wrenched out
drummed war cries on his taut skin
beast moulded a man
two femurs wrenched out
drummed war cries on his taut skin
beast moulded a man
16 reads
2 Comments
Cyndi_Moone
Poem Published
5th Sep 2017 11:21pm
5th Sep 2017 11:21pm
RECKLESS
When eternity is out of reach
Washed away by waves of the beach
And you feel in your aching bones
And hear it in earthly tones
That you’ve lost your only chance
To have that wedding dance
With Jesus in heaven
Having lost your Lucky Seven
Your heart has no other choice
You lose your way and voice
And you step into the world of a reckless sinner
Destined to lose and not be a winner.
As much as one misses God and turn to Him
The light of the soul grows awfully dim
Cast into darkness, one sits in silence
As...
Washed away by waves of the beach
And you feel in your aching bones
And hear it in earthly tones
That you’ve lost your only chance
To have that wedding dance
With Jesus in heaven
Having lost your Lucky Seven
Your heart has no other choice
You lose your way and voice
And you step into the world of a reckless sinner
Destined to lose and not be a winner.
As much as one misses God and turn to Him
The light of the soul grows awfully dim
Cast into darkness, one sits in silence
As...
16 reads
6 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
3rd Feb 2019 5:14am
3rd Feb 2019 5:14am
8. Annotated Peoples Make Connections: if they walked around in love/for love/by love with SFX labels to their chests
My feet feel gravity un-gilled. They shuffle
how an airplane lands at night. The towers
hiccuping bubbles like they just had a habanero
telling us which way is up and which way
to burn in inkwater. Here a padded slope
with the headlights of trench fish, bifarious
and lighting the turning down, down, down.
Rows a hushed sway of seaweed heads.
How to show the fish a mirror since they live in one?
Cameron, you couldn’t have imagined the abyss better.
Cut lights, action in seats. We don’t
need a crowd, just the silver screen and the...
how an airplane lands at night. The towers
hiccuping bubbles like they just had a habanero
telling us which way is up and which way
to burn in inkwater. Here a padded slope
with the headlights of trench fish, bifarious
and lighting the turning down, down, down.
Rows a hushed sway of seaweed heads.
How to show the fish a mirror since they live in one?
Cameron, you couldn’t have imagined the abyss better.
Cut lights, action in seats. We don’t
need a crowd, just the silver screen and the...
#dark
#funny
#monsters #dating
#monsters #dating
16 reads
2 Comments
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
- Missy -
Poem Published
12th Jan 2017 5:33pm
12th Jan 2017 5:33pm
Skinned
My father shot pheasants,
pigeons, rabbits;
most things that moved
he'd bring three birds home
tied together at the neck
their heads lopsided,
eyes closed, claws relaxed
the brilliant male plumage
painting strange rainbows
against the outhouse wall.
I can skin a cottontail
in one piece
it's methodical work,
a meticulous bond
of steel and skin melding
in perfect sequence
sinew peels back to reveal
pink meat, cloaked grey
prostrated and gelatinous
the way nature intended it
the...
pigeons, rabbits;
most things that moved
he'd bring three birds home
tied together at the neck
their heads lopsided,
eyes closed, claws relaxed
the brilliant male plumage
painting strange rainbows
against the outhouse wall.
I can skin a cottontail
in one piece
it's methodical work,
a meticulous bond
of steel and skin melding
in perfect sequence
sinew peels back to reveal
pink meat, cloaked grey
prostrated and gelatinous
the way nature intended it
the...
19 reads
4 Comments
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
- Missy -
Poem Published
16th Feb 2017 11:11am
16th Feb 2017 11:11am
Four Leaf Clover
Loathing, the axis
suddenly turns, sours the petals,
splices through a poisonous stem
droplets of morning on the nub of day;
spring almost surrenders
for these emerald spades rotate
nestled in stumps of thumb and finger.
There is superstition in the air
buried, vacant;
it beats the blood right out of me
my body is rigid and worn,
I dream that I am feather-light,
I am so focused on my venom
possessed by this shadow
that sleeps within me
for this is my garden
this patch of Earth is mine,
and...
suddenly turns, sours the petals,
splices through a poisonous stem
droplets of morning on the nub of day;
spring almost surrenders
for these emerald spades rotate
nestled in stumps of thumb and finger.
There is superstition in the air
buried, vacant;
it beats the blood right out of me
my body is rigid and worn,
I dream that I am feather-light,
I am so focused on my venom
possessed by this shadow
that sleeps within me
for this is my garden
this patch of Earth is mine,
and...
19 reads
3 Comments
Cyndi_Moone
Poem Published
22nd Sep 2017 2:25am
22nd Sep 2017 2:25am
PRISON CELL
Here I am sitting in my prison cell
No one notices; no one can tell
My body in physical form is free
But my immortal soul-the real me
Is chained and locked away
A smile I carry day after day
But a heaviness I carry deep in the soul
Where no one can see...no one knows.
The knowledge that I may have fallen from grace
Living my younger days in total disgrace
Wearying the Lord and making Him cry
Taking for granted that for me He died
It cost me nothing and He asked for nothing in return
But doing the right thing I didn't...
No one notices; no one can tell
My body in physical form is free
But my immortal soul-the real me
Is chained and locked away
A smile I carry day after day
But a heaviness I carry deep in the soul
Where no one can see...no one knows.
The knowledge that I may have fallen from grace
Living my younger days in total disgrace
Wearying the Lord and making Him cry
Taking for granted that for me He died
It cost me nothing and He asked for nothing in return
But doing the right thing I didn't...
19 reads
7 Comments
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
- Missy -
Poem Published
1st Apr 2018 7:35am
1st Apr 2018 7:35am
Pocket Watch
the day
that fucker died
he told me there was no
better time than now
looked down at his watch
laughed at the inevitability
and swallowed himself
like a blanket
leaving his clutter
bills unpaid,
an old kitchen jug
marinating in hours
full of stale beer
and sadness
breath cut down
to the quick
where none
but strange ghosts
could be signalled
with a long arm;
a short hand
cracking gears
in dark melancholy,
creaking towards
something to give.
that fucker died
he told me there was no
better time than now
looked down at his watch
laughed at the inevitability
and swallowed himself
like a blanket
leaving his clutter
bills unpaid,
an old kitchen jug
marinating in hours
full of stale beer
and sadness
breath cut down
to the quick
where none
but strange ghosts
could be signalled
with a long arm;
a short hand
cracking gears
in dark melancholy,
creaking towards
something to give.
#NaPoWriMo2018
20 reads
13 Comments
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
- Missy -
Poem Published
2nd Mar 2017 11:21am
2nd Mar 2017 11:21am
Origins
i.
Your vines lived beneath my skin
sleeping, wholly set in ugliness;
every thorny ventricle
sent a white-celled angel
and trapped in Earth (beneath Earth)
you entered the labyrinth of my soil
an inferno of insects, black pits
of six-fold bodies, charred.
Do not believe that constriction
ever dulled the prophecies of my blood;
they crawled the rotting faces of the living
among mud, the everliving worms.
ii.
The God particle, the culmination
swallowed an...
Your vines lived beneath my skin
sleeping, wholly set in ugliness;
every thorny ventricle
sent a white-celled angel
and trapped in Earth (beneath Earth)
you entered the labyrinth of my soil
an inferno of insects, black pits
of six-fold bodies, charred.
Do not believe that constriction
ever dulled the prophecies of my blood;
they crawled the rotting faces of the living
among mud, the everliving worms.
ii.
The God particle, the culmination
swallowed an...
22 reads
4 Comments
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
- Missy -
Poem Published
1st Oct 2018 8:33pm
1st Oct 2018 8:33pm
Death Soup
It’s all you awoke too:
the hollowed out skull on the counter
next to morning coffee and sunlight,
facing the decorative plant pot
in reflection of a life.
I wondered how many times
you’d clicked the drill bit in place,
cored a brain like strange fruit
to inject your acid in layers
if thoughts had fallen from scalps—
their slow, lamenting memories
making their tearful descent,
marinating themselves
in Milwaukee drains.
...
the hollowed out skull on the counter
next to morning coffee and sunlight,
facing the decorative plant pot
in reflection of a life.
I wondered how many times
you’d clicked the drill bit in place,
cored a brain like strange fruit
to inject your acid in layers
if thoughts had fallen from scalps—
their slow, lamenting memories
making their tearful descent,
marinating themselves
in Milwaukee drains.
...
#murder
#death
#America #historical
#America #historical
22 reads
9 Comments
Vandel_Viaclovsky
Van
Van
Poem Published
13th Mar 2017 11:15pm
13th Mar 2017 11:15pm
untitled (collapsing atop the sad and broad glen)
i.
As bleak and murdersome crows
serve no mortal beauty nor
in tones of black assume
to beg pardon of the rose
nor in the obscuring dark
let pity's bones lay hushful and tenderly
so i am out of place
i am at a place out of place and with baleful heart
a space of no gardenias also nor honeysuckle
for brogue soles
deathly have trampled those under.
ii.
, collapsing atop the sad and broad glen
i shave my head to immersion ...
As bleak and murdersome crows
serve no mortal beauty nor
in tones of black assume
to beg pardon of the rose
nor in the obscuring dark
let pity's bones lay hushful and tenderly
so i am out of place
i am at a place out of place and with baleful heart
a space of no gardenias also nor honeysuckle
for brogue soles
deathly have trampled those under.
ii.
, collapsing atop the sad and broad glen
i shave my head to immersion ...
23 reads
7 Comments
Cyndi_Moone
Poem Published
19th Dec 2017 9:52pm
19th Dec 2017 9:52pm
HOPELESS
Imagine if there was NO heaven
And no one ever held a Lucky Seven.
Imagine if the fate of all of Mankind
Whether cruel or kind,
Whether good or bad
Whether Happy or sad
All eternally damned into a lake of fire
Without the Savior as a Sire.
No Savior with His Saving Grace
No God with a comforting embrace.
Will you still sing Sunday praises and do your charitable deeds?
Will you have any motive, strong grounds or any guiding lead
To live and lead the Righteous life
Free of malice, anger, and contentious strife? ...
And no one ever held a Lucky Seven.
Imagine if the fate of all of Mankind
Whether cruel or kind,
Whether good or bad
Whether Happy or sad
All eternally damned into a lake of fire
Without the Savior as a Sire.
No Savior with His Saving Grace
No God with a comforting embrace.
Will you still sing Sunday praises and do your charitable deeds?
Will you have any motive, strong grounds or any guiding lead
To live and lead the Righteous life
Free of malice, anger, and contentious strife? ...
#hope
#religion
#God
#Christian
#SelfReflection
23 reads
1 Comment
yelluw_always
Poem Published
29th Dec 2018 7:49am
29th Dec 2018 7:49am
Complicity in the Stars
When fragile
things collide
into constellations,
when struck
the glass volleys
off graphite.
At once
nothing like it was,
a container un-becomes
itself,
several imparts meet
the meat of a thigh.
Sharp transparent
hubris of life
finishes on tile,
sharp beading red dwarves
upon skin,
these are
the collusions
of nightly fragility.
things collide
into constellations,
when struck
the glass volleys
off graphite.
At once
nothing like it was,
a container un-becomes
itself,
several imparts meet
the meat of a thigh.
Sharp transparent
hubris of life
finishes on tile,
sharp beading red dwarves
upon skin,
these are
the collusions
of nightly fragility.
#dark
#stars
#humankind
#astronomy
#LifeCycle
23 reads
17 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Dark Poetry. Dark Poems about Death, Horror and Evil
