Narrative Poems
#narrative
Narrative poetry is a style of poetry which tells a story. Narrative poems aim to draw the reader into the imagination of the author, to immerse them in the story being told. Narrative poems are usually written in metered verse, but do not have to follow any particular rhythmic pattern.
Ashtal_Leb_Azure
Poem Published
3rd Apr 2025 11:28am
3rd Apr 2025 11:28am
Carol of the Creator
(Hush, hush—do not call,)
(Hush, hush—do not fall,)
(Still your breath, still your step,)
(Lest they wake and take you yet.)
They who carved the sky from ink,
Set the sun and stars to sink,
Spun the thread and wove the lines,
Wrote the names and shaped the words.
(Hush, hush—do not gaze,)
(Hush, hush—shun their praise,)
(Turn your eyes, bow your head,)
(Tread too close, you’ll join the dead.)
Words unspoken, worlds unseen,
Maps erased and hands wiped clean,
They who build and they who rend,
Minds...
(Hush, hush—do not fall,)
(Still your breath, still your step,)
(Lest they wake and take you yet.)
They who carved the sky from ink,
Set the sun and stars to sink,
Spun the thread and wove the lines,
Wrote the names and shaped the words.
(Hush, hush—do not gaze,)
(Hush, hush—shun their praise,)
(Turn your eyes, bow your head,)
(Tread too close, you’ll join the dead.)
Words unspoken, worlds unseen,
Maps erased and hands wiped clean,
They who build and they who rend,
Minds...
#death
#God
#horror
#narrative
#rhyming
51 reads
0 Comments
Mercurial
Poem Published
18th Mar 2025 7:38pm
18th Mar 2025 7:38pm
Little Spark
I see you my love, here from above,
My energy coursing through, there's nothing to do,
Im your life and strife,
I know your pain and joy.
We were together deep in the fabric of time,
Making our story together in space,
The little whispers we experienced,
Left a trace along the path we created.
I saw everything in you, and you in me,
I couldn't do anything so i created you,
My angelic necessity from the centre of my heart,
From the light that glows in and echoes from eternity.
You are my little spark, we ride...
My energy coursing through, there's nothing to do,
Im your life and strife,
I know your pain and joy.
We were together deep in the fabric of time,
Making our story together in space,
The little whispers we experienced,
Left a trace along the path we created.
I saw everything in you, and you in me,
I couldn't do anything so i created you,
My angelic necessity from the centre of my heart,
From the light that glows in and echoes from eternity.
You are my little spark, we ride...
#dawn
#inspirational
#narrative
91 reads
0 Comments
Pishashee
Poem Published
6th Mar 2025 9:49pm
6th Mar 2025 9:49pm
A Writer
A willingness to sit with truth—
to name the shame,
to name the silence—
is a testament to bravery.
Here, in the marrow of unspoken things,
is where the most powerful writing lives:
not in the shouting,
not in the chaos,
but in the quiet reckoning.
In the way ink bleeds truth
onto the pages.
to name the shame,
to name the silence—
is a testament to bravery.
Here, in the marrow of unspoken things,
is where the most powerful writing lives:
not in the shouting,
not in the chaos,
but in the quiet reckoning.
In the way ink bleeds truth
onto the pages.
#mystery
#narrative
97 reads
0 Comments
MalcolmG
Poem Published
5th Mar 2025 00:47am
5th Mar 2025 00:47am
SHATTERED & UNNAMED
Who am I?
Not formed of parts,
but a fracture,
splintered by the weight of forgotten names,
the weight of nothing.
An assembly of fragments
swallowed by echoes,
sunk into the hollow of things never spoken.
TIME, split by fire, veins dripping with prophecy,
shivering in the hollow,
a forgotten scream,
shouting at empty rooms
(what have we become? WHAT?)
THE BODY, bent under the weight of hunger,
muscles wrapped in rust,
aching for truth
that is never here.
DESIRE, liquid and restless, ...
Not formed of parts,
but a fracture,
splintered by the weight of forgotten names,
the weight of nothing.
An assembly of fragments
swallowed by echoes,
sunk into the hollow of things never spoken.
TIME, split by fire, veins dripping with prophecy,
shivering in the hollow,
a forgotten scream,
shouting at empty rooms
(what have we become? WHAT?)
THE BODY, bent under the weight of hunger,
muscles wrapped in rust,
aching for truth
that is never here.
DESIRE, liquid and restless, ...
#narrative
#SelfReflection
#TruthOfLife
97 reads
3 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
17th Jan 2025 7:46pm
17th Jan 2025 7:46pm
Life Lesson Part 7 UK (f**king Ang)
It has been a while since I wrote a life lesson. I want to remind you that the year is 1989. I just made it back to the UK because my mother was not in the mood to deal with me.
I believe it was a chance for her to get her groove on without prying eyes.
My sister and I have been in the UK for over a week, and I started to feel…antsy. I wondered what David was up to.
I called the number he gave me the last time I was here, and his mum answered. Why did I call?
“Hello, is David home?” I asked
...
I believe it was a chance for her to get her groove on without prying eyes.
My sister and I have been in the UK for over a week, and I started to feel…antsy. I wondered what David was up to.
I called the number he gave me the last time I was here, and his mum answered. Why did I call?
“Hello, is David home?” I asked
...
#narrative
226 reads
11 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
13th Jan 2025 2:25am
13th Jan 2025 2:25am
Sunday Night
You are my Sunday night.
Monday begins a grind of necessity.
Tuesday are meeting ‘s of improbabilities
Wednesday is the hump that is starting to maim
Thursday is the breaking point of talking in vain
Friday is the day that will relieve some stress
Saturday waking up in a tangled mess
Sunday night is where my heart lies
Staring and knowing I will continue...
Just as you look at me that way...
with those eyes.
Monday begins a grind of necessity.
Tuesday are meeting ‘s of improbabilities
Wednesday is the hump that is starting to maim
Thursday is the breaking point of talking in vain
Friday is the day that will relieve some stress
Saturday waking up in a tangled mess
Sunday night is where my heart lies
Staring and knowing I will continue...
Just as you look at me that way...
with those eyes.
#narrative
244 reads
16 Comments
Betty
Poem Published
27th Dec 2024 4:16pm
27th Dec 2024 4:16pm
In a world of Juliets, call me Lady Macbeth
I had to sub a Sophomore Lit class
when the professor was out
with COVID
And my inner literary snob
screamed a thousand
deaths when the 20-year-old zygotes
romanticized about
Romeo and Juliet.
I smiled and fluttered
my eyelashes
and smashed those
cute little bitches
who thought they
invented thought
with actual arrogance.
You see children,
Shakespeare...
when the professor was out
with COVID
And my inner literary snob
screamed a thousand
deaths when the 20-year-old zygotes
romanticized about
Romeo and Juliet.
I smiled and fluttered
my eyelashes
and smashed those
cute little bitches
who thought they
invented thought
with actual arrogance.
You see children,
Shakespeare...
#dark
#narrative
#lover
#revenge
#identity
371 reads
28 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
4th Dec 2024 4:06pm
4th Dec 2024 4:06pm
Babuska's sarmale
In a snowy Romanian village, during Christmas cheer,
my Babuska spun tales, both delightful and queer.
The tradition was sarmale, a savory delight,
Cabbage wrapped treasures, cooked all through the night.
Meat and rice nestled in leaves so green,
simmered in tomato, a feast so serene.
But woven in laughter and holiday charms
were Babuska’s stories with their quirky alarms:
"Behave well, dear children, lest you wish to be seen
in the pot with the sarmale, simmering and lean."
The children would giggle, eyes...
my Babuska spun tales, both delightful and queer.
The tradition was sarmale, a savory delight,
Cabbage wrapped treasures, cooked all through the night.
Meat and rice nestled in leaves so green,
simmered in tomato, a feast so serene.
But woven in laughter and holiday charms
were Babuska’s stories with their quirky alarms:
"Behave well, dear children, lest you wish to be seen
in the pot with the sarmale, simmering and lean."
The children would giggle, eyes...
#children
#Christmas
#culture
#family
#narrative
114 reads
9 Comments
rosegold
Poem Published
29th Nov 2024 2:18pm
29th Nov 2024 2:18pm
The Journey
You slowly ooze
your sludgy head and foot
out of the hard yet fragile home
you carry on your back.
Eyes cautiously extend,
slimy feelers emerge and reach out
examining the air around:
all is still but the sun softly rising
so you start your long journey
across the walk in search of leafy greens.
Morning dew keeps you wet and content;
golden rays make your trail sparkle.
Thump, thump, the sidewalk shakes;
you feel the pounding getting closer.
A shadow overhead covers you in darkness,
and you crawl as...
your sludgy head and foot
out of the hard yet fragile home
you carry on your back.
Eyes cautiously extend,
slimy feelers emerge and reach out
examining the air around:
all is still but the sun softly rising
so you start your long journey
across the walk in search of leafy greens.
Morning dew keeps you wet and content;
golden rays make your trail sparkle.
Thump, thump, the sidewalk shakes;
you feel the pounding getting closer.
A shadow overhead covers you in darkness,
and you crawl as...
#fate
#fiction
#narrative #nature
#narrative #nature
101 reads
0 Comments
moroccanpoet
Poem Published
25th Nov 2024 7:00pm
25th Nov 2024 7:00pm
L.A. Gangsters '79
In the shadows of the city,
where the nights are long,
Whispers of the alleyways,
sing a dangerous song.
Neon lights are flickering,
casting ghosts in the dark,
Every corner tells a story,
every heartbeat leaves a mark.
Living life on the edge,
crossing every line.
In the streets of the city,
where the danger's alive,
Fighting for survival,
just to stay in the grind.
Leather and chrome,
they ride through the night,
Brothers in arms,
ready for the fight.
...
where the nights are long,
Whispers of the alleyways,
sing a dangerous song.
Neon lights are flickering,
casting ghosts in the dark,
Every corner tells a story,
every heartbeat leaves a mark.
Living life on the edge,
crossing every line.
In the streets of the city,
where the danger's alive,
Fighting for survival,
just to stay in the grind.
Leather and chrome,
they ride through the night,
Brothers in arms,
ready for the fight.
...
#narrative
#ShortStory
96 reads
2 Comments
ThePalestRider
Poem Published
20th Nov 2024 10:18am
20th Nov 2024 10:18am
Feuer mit Schwertern
Das Feuer tanzt auf blankem Stahl
Ein Funkensprung im finstren Saal
Die Klinge singt, ein Lied so wild
Im Flammenschein wird Blut erfüllt
For the English speakers:
The fire dances on the blade
A spark ignites where shadows fade
The sword it sings, a song of strife
In fiery glow, it drinks of life
Ein Funkensprung im finstren Saal
Die Klinge singt, ein Lied so wild
Im Flammenschein wird Blut erfüllt
For the English speakers:
The fire dances on the blade
A spark ignites where shadows fade
The sword it sings, a song of strife
In fiery glow, it drinks of life
#fire
#metaphor
#narrative
#rhyming
#strength
98 reads
0 Comments
ThePalestRider
Poem Published
18th Nov 2024 6:47am
18th Nov 2024 6:47am
Dynasty
Upon the throne of shadows, doubt did cling
The Valois heir, a flame in tempest vast
Erect in poise, as marble gods in spring
Bore fate's great weight, unyielding to the blast
Beneath his feet, the soil of France did groan
A kingdom cleft by war’s unholy strife
Yet, like the Parian stone, his form was shown
Unmarred, a sculptor's dream brought into life
The Seine did whisper, winds through arches vast
Of triumphs yet to come, of crowns foretold
And every pillar, every stone, held fast
To echo Valois' tale in ages cold
...
The Valois heir, a flame in tempest vast
Erect in poise, as marble gods in spring
Bore fate's great weight, unyielding to the blast
Beneath his feet, the soil of France did groan
A kingdom cleft by war’s unholy strife
Yet, like the Parian stone, his form was shown
Unmarred, a sculptor's dream brought into life
The Seine did whisper, winds through arches vast
Of triumphs yet to come, of crowns foretold
And every pillar, every stone, held fast
To echo Valois' tale in ages cold
...
#freedom
#military
#narrative
#passion
#responsibility
112 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Narrative Poems
