dark poetry
Here
In earshot people speak like I'm not here.
I scan the room there's blood flowing like tears
From every guest that mills and mumbles low,
But do they care, or don't they even know?
I tool around this unfamiliar place.
Where have the players gone without a trace,
While eerie music drones on the wrong speed;
It's then I know I've done a horrid deed.
It's gotten very quiet I confess
By any other standard more or less.
I know what is and need to make it clear,
The only sane one uninvited here.
I tip & toe and slide around the chairs,
And squint my eyes to make me more aware.
What kind of party was this meant to be?
The scattered bodies leave no clues for me.
I'll try to make some sense about all this,
But first I need to plant a little kiss
Upon the bloodied lips of someone dear;
The only sane one uninvited here.
Where this has since gone:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/374787-here-visceral-revisited/
I scan the room there's blood flowing like tears
From every guest that mills and mumbles low,
But do they care, or don't they even know?
I tool around this unfamiliar place.
Where have the players gone without a trace,
While eerie music drones on the wrong speed;
It's then I know I've done a horrid deed.
It's gotten very quiet I confess
By any other standard more or less.
I know what is and need to make it clear,
The only sane one uninvited here.
I tip & toe and slide around the chairs,
And squint my eyes to make me more aware.
What kind of party was this meant to be?
The scattered bodies leave no clues for me.
I'll try to make some sense about all this,
But first I need to plant a little kiss
Upon the bloodied lips of someone dear;
The only sane one uninvited here.
Where this has since gone:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/374787-here-visceral-revisited/
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
Go To Page
Anonymous
Love it. Fantastic ebb and flow style with imagery out of this world. Awesone write!
The Monster (within us)
Steadily upon the sterile hallway
A crooked grin beseeches upon the castaways
The neglected, the abused, the traumatized
His thoughts spiraling into corporeal slaughter
A mind consumed with ethereal voices
The void in his stomach as hollow as his soul
A knife coddled in one hand,
a virulent disposition jammed in the other
embarking on a sanctimonious expedition
With archaic parchment in tow
chained to its wretched doctrine
a voluntary prisoner bound in blood.
and a tidy haircut freshly trimmed.
Swaddling a briefcase decayed as Cleopatra
sheltered by a man's prodigious facade.
An inviting proclamation he declared
was a generous offering bestowed to an institution
persecuted by Alcotts and Mcarthys alike.
Nervously ticking like an antique clock
Within its licentious 6x10 confines
lays a menagerie of snarled, mangled wires
like an orgy of hissing rattlesnakes entwined.
Mounds of concrete shield the faux samaratin's eardrums
A bulwark against shrieks of the damned belting in cacophony.
As the scaffolding plunges into smoke
And the silenced victims number in dozens
The man adorned by exquisitely combed scalp
And sinister sneer of a leopard
Scoffs and giggles at the completion of his work
A masterpiece of carnage, a circus of agony.
A singular scream, a shriek of indignation
pierces his auditory fortress of wax
A crack in its grandiose engineering
breaths a meager sigh of regret in his lungs
A crack with the potential to multiply
but sealed with ducktape post-haste.
The monster preaches good faith.
The monster is unbroken
The monster shattered all of his mirrors
The monster is within us
Desperate to emerge.
A crooked grin beseeches upon the castaways
The neglected, the abused, the traumatized
His thoughts spiraling into corporeal slaughter
A mind consumed with ethereal voices
The void in his stomach as hollow as his soul
A knife coddled in one hand,
a virulent disposition jammed in the other
embarking on a sanctimonious expedition
With archaic parchment in tow
chained to its wretched doctrine
a voluntary prisoner bound in blood.
and a tidy haircut freshly trimmed.
Swaddling a briefcase decayed as Cleopatra
sheltered by a man's prodigious facade.
An inviting proclamation he declared
was a generous offering bestowed to an institution
persecuted by Alcotts and Mcarthys alike.
Nervously ticking like an antique clock
Within its licentious 6x10 confines
lays a menagerie of snarled, mangled wires
like an orgy of hissing rattlesnakes entwined.
Mounds of concrete shield the faux samaratin's eardrums
A bulwark against shrieks of the damned belting in cacophony.
As the scaffolding plunges into smoke
And the silenced victims number in dozens
The man adorned by exquisitely combed scalp
And sinister sneer of a leopard
Scoffs and giggles at the completion of his work
A masterpiece of carnage, a circus of agony.
A singular scream, a shriek of indignation
pierces his auditory fortress of wax
A crack in its grandiose engineering
breaths a meager sigh of regret in his lungs
A crack with the potential to multiply
but sealed with ducktape post-haste.
The monster preaches good faith.
The monster is unbroken
The monster shattered all of his mirrors
The monster is within us
Desperate to emerge.
Written by Madbuttonhatter
(Ryan R Morgan)
Go To Page
The Onryo
Hair as dense and impenetrable as a foggy night
Eyes piercing like blades of obsidian
gazing, stalking, visage consumed with fury
Ceaseless anger, a woman violated and scorned
Cruel misfortunes of innumerable souls
Damned to hades
by a hand not of their own
A man with no fortune to abuse or lose
A night, peaceful, calm as a stillborn child
No voices, no squeaks or creaks
Like the infant of his wretched defeat
Mother and son passed very fast
Police confused, a killer on the loose
Atmosphere tense, a chinook carries ominous whispers
As Stringy fingers caress a self-made widower's pane
Gasping, wheezing, their lungs like hot potatos
Ashen strands and ragged kimonos
Encompassing his tortured visions
A crimson glow consumes his meager abode
Eyes faintly bursting from his skull
Skin crawling across his starving flesh
a wriggling bucket of worms in coitus
Slithering across the bamboo floor
As he initiates rigor mortis
An unforgettable face
Lips that exude nostalgia
Memories of unsettling violence
Visions of past altercations
The desecration is prevalent
Scars of jealousy and aggression evident
Closes his eyes, kisses goodbye
As the fingers enfold across his broken features
A fate inevitable, a fate eternally sealed
The Onryo strikes with vengeance
A new victim is collected.
Eyes piercing like blades of obsidian
gazing, stalking, visage consumed with fury
Ceaseless anger, a woman violated and scorned
Cruel misfortunes of innumerable souls
Damned to hades
by a hand not of their own
A man with no fortune to abuse or lose
A night, peaceful, calm as a stillborn child
No voices, no squeaks or creaks
Like the infant of his wretched defeat
Mother and son passed very fast
Police confused, a killer on the loose
Atmosphere tense, a chinook carries ominous whispers
As Stringy fingers caress a self-made widower's pane
Gasping, wheezing, their lungs like hot potatos
Ashen strands and ragged kimonos
Encompassing his tortured visions
A crimson glow consumes his meager abode
Eyes faintly bursting from his skull
Skin crawling across his starving flesh
a wriggling bucket of worms in coitus
Slithering across the bamboo floor
As he initiates rigor mortis
An unforgettable face
Lips that exude nostalgia
Memories of unsettling violence
Visions of past altercations
The desecration is prevalent
Scars of jealousy and aggression evident
Closes his eyes, kisses goodbye
As the fingers enfold across his broken features
A fate inevitable, a fate eternally sealed
The Onryo strikes with vengeance
A new victim is collected.
Written by Madbuttonhatter
(Ryan R Morgan)
Go To Page
The Starving Artist
The wooden utensil streaks across the empty vessel
Lines that manifest into shapes and forms
Infinite possibilities, a horizon of concepts
A world embrewed in chaos dissipates
Replaced with a realm of endless creation
Pure concentration, pure focus, no mimosas
Playing God with some led and a pad of paper
Images in his head, spread upon a canvas
Window into the soul, dragons, samurai take the role
This is a world, no mortal can forsake
His fragile dwelling amidst caved earth
Conspiring to manifest in reality,
What he could only whisper in dreams
Relinquishing his woes,
money, career, and miserable foes
The family of friends he warmly misses
As he gently reminiscences of times of yore
His life poured on an LED monitor,
eyes are sore
A legacy engraved upon this blinding portal
To the realm of instant connection
images that entice through fluid instigation
Carved a hollow shell
where a soul was once lit
Tortured in nine circles of inferno
A reality consumed by wrath and hatred
He evades it through a shimmering wall of bliss
The emptiness that consumes his mind
An acceptable side effect of his condition
Divorced from reality
Without any alimony
Abandoned by a society fraught with malice
He develops a new universe
His ego planted firmly in the center
Even as his throat yearns for Earth’s endless mercury
And his stomach is besieged by images of succulence
The heap of flesh and bones doubles over
Content with his suffering
Apathetic to his laughable fate
A blip on the local news
Inconsequential
Lines that manifest into shapes and forms
Infinite possibilities, a horizon of concepts
A world embrewed in chaos dissipates
Replaced with a realm of endless creation
Pure concentration, pure focus, no mimosas
Playing God with some led and a pad of paper
Images in his head, spread upon a canvas
Window into the soul, dragons, samurai take the role
This is a world, no mortal can forsake
His fragile dwelling amidst caved earth
Conspiring to manifest in reality,
What he could only whisper in dreams
Relinquishing his woes,
money, career, and miserable foes
The family of friends he warmly misses
As he gently reminiscences of times of yore
His life poured on an LED monitor,
eyes are sore
A legacy engraved upon this blinding portal
To the realm of instant connection
images that entice through fluid instigation
Carved a hollow shell
where a soul was once lit
Tortured in nine circles of inferno
A reality consumed by wrath and hatred
He evades it through a shimmering wall of bliss
The emptiness that consumes his mind
An acceptable side effect of his condition
Divorced from reality
Without any alimony
Abandoned by a society fraught with malice
He develops a new universe
His ego planted firmly in the center
Even as his throat yearns for Earth’s endless mercury
And his stomach is besieged by images of succulence
The heap of flesh and bones doubles over
Content with his suffering
Apathetic to his laughable fate
A blip on the local news
Inconsequential
Written by Madbuttonhatter
(Ryan R Morgan)
Go To Page
Just one more, lol. Don't wanna spam too much here.
Anonymous
Oh, okay. Still new at this. I'll do that. Thank you.
Anonymous
"Reaping the Young Souls"
Atop a cliff over looking murky
water, the fog creeps in,
rolling like the death rattle of
a western diamondback.
Lightning strikes the tree-tops, illuminating a child.
Why does she sit there alone in
the fading light? Blank her
expressions if waiting for an
uninvited guest to appear,
Trembling her lips, chanting,
thou it's meaning unclear.
Yielding Sacrificial Blades
She carves a Pentagram into her head, like she can see every point
every line perfect and the circle
mimics one of hells centers.
This demonic dogma progress'
as she pours tar onto the
ground - ancient scribes beckoning the presence of something wicked.
She pools blood from lacerated abdomen center mass, reversed crucifix.
Licking blades, split dialect
This child is serpentine prayers
and the air rushes out from the peak,
impending doom crashes as laughter shakes the earth, malevolent.
As the red dust and toxic black smoke clears death is grim and grinning.
"We meet at last my young fallen angel, you are ready?" He snarls.
Choking from tongue bleeding a gurgled " It is done my dark love"
"Obscure my Prowess"he grins
"I used the knife as I was told,
here inside my satchel I hold,the
heart of my youngest kin, never will
he steal again, the eye's of my
mothers soul, never again will she fawn and hold any affection for another man.
For there in that pillow case is the intestines of my dad, a miserable sonuvabitch, just broken and cold, I blame my mother - that cunt was just sad. As a surprise I severed some heads, my granny, her dog they shouldn't have gotten out of bed.
It's quite alright thou, they were rather old, she missed my grandpa, he's in hell I know." These words ran fluid from that childish mouth, like she was a tyrant and no pity or a tear drop came out.
"Rather impressive!' He said with esteem
The Reaper was impressed indeed, never had he seen such moxie in this young of a child! He thought for a moment she'll make a great part of his clan. Then from below he heard quite the fuss, a ruckus down south, the child he drugged right out.
"Master what need you?"
He started to shout
Then the darkest most sinister of voices Rang out! " My servant you have been with me so long, you grow old and weaker, you're fading out! So do as I beckon and immortality I shall grant.
Eat that little demonic bitches soul, don't forget to ingest the bounty she holds, make her the chaser, first siphon her blood, then roast the little sinner and come back down!
This I command from the darkest recess of hell" The voice rang pungent with the smell of decomposed flesh and fire from lava's deepest depths as it trailed off in maniacal laughter.
Grinning Sadistically now is the Grim
"Wake up you little tart, Now!" His venomous voice rang out and shook the ground. The little sinner stood dazed and stunned..looking up she whimpered "Yes omnipotent one...........Swhackkk, the scythe did swing opening her carodded artery allowing the juicy fruit cocktail of life spray. He ravenously took her into his arms and drank the life away, like some malnourished thespian dying for his art.
He gorged on the vessels entirely - sinew,flesh and bone. Hell bound eternal, disappearing without a sound, feed on lost souls.
© Sinister Spital
Atop a cliff over looking murky
water, the fog creeps in,
rolling like the death rattle of
a western diamondback.
Lightning strikes the tree-tops, illuminating a child.
Why does she sit there alone in
the fading light? Blank her
expressions if waiting for an
uninvited guest to appear,
Trembling her lips, chanting,
thou it's meaning unclear.
Yielding Sacrificial Blades
She carves a Pentagram into her head, like she can see every point
every line perfect and the circle
mimics one of hells centers.
This demonic dogma progress'
as she pours tar onto the
ground - ancient scribes beckoning the presence of something wicked.
She pools blood from lacerated abdomen center mass, reversed crucifix.
Licking blades, split dialect
This child is serpentine prayers
and the air rushes out from the peak,
impending doom crashes as laughter shakes the earth, malevolent.
As the red dust and toxic black smoke clears death is grim and grinning.
"We meet at last my young fallen angel, you are ready?" He snarls.
Choking from tongue bleeding a gurgled " It is done my dark love"
"Obscure my Prowess"he grins
"I used the knife as I was told,
here inside my satchel I hold,the
heart of my youngest kin, never will
he steal again, the eye's of my
mothers soul, never again will she fawn and hold any affection for another man.
For there in that pillow case is the intestines of my dad, a miserable sonuvabitch, just broken and cold, I blame my mother - that cunt was just sad. As a surprise I severed some heads, my granny, her dog they shouldn't have gotten out of bed.
It's quite alright thou, they were rather old, she missed my grandpa, he's in hell I know." These words ran fluid from that childish mouth, like she was a tyrant and no pity or a tear drop came out.
"Rather impressive!' He said with esteem
The Reaper was impressed indeed, never had he seen such moxie in this young of a child! He thought for a moment she'll make a great part of his clan. Then from below he heard quite the fuss, a ruckus down south, the child he drugged right out.
"Master what need you?"
He started to shout
Then the darkest most sinister of voices Rang out! " My servant you have been with me so long, you grow old and weaker, you're fading out! So do as I beckon and immortality I shall grant.
Eat that little demonic bitches soul, don't forget to ingest the bounty she holds, make her the chaser, first siphon her blood, then roast the little sinner and come back down!
This I command from the darkest recess of hell" The voice rang pungent with the smell of decomposed flesh and fire from lava's deepest depths as it trailed off in maniacal laughter.
Grinning Sadistically now is the Grim
"Wake up you little tart, Now!" His venomous voice rang out and shook the ground. The little sinner stood dazed and stunned..looking up she whimpered "Yes omnipotent one...........Swhackkk, the scythe did swing opening her carodded artery allowing the juicy fruit cocktail of life spray. He ravenously took her into his arms and drank the life away, like some malnourished thespian dying for his art.
He gorged on the vessels entirely - sinew,flesh and bone. Hell bound eternal, disappearing without a sound, feed on lost souls.
© Sinister Spital
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