Hemel Hempstead    1964 -   
Poet and short story writer. My short stories are mainly horror.
I was attacked in 1997 and my left leg badly burnt which led me to begin writing poetry as a means of therapeutic healing.
I am the last person who admits if I am any good, I just write and to me it is the readers who enjoy what I do that make it worth while.
Thank you for all those who come to read my efforts and with so many excellent poets here it makes it all worth while.

Chris

I have also been experimenting with YouTube from 2014. I have a handful of poems on there. Most Popular seems to be Goldfish Dreams (Chris Smith is the name on there but search for Goldfish Dreams and I'm easier to find).

www.facebook.com/welshpoetcs2.

I am also on Twitter as welshpoetcs and on Tumblr as Darkpoetsoul.

I have been using Hello Poetry since 2009.
I also use www.apolloblessed.ning.com.

If you would like a collaboration poem I'm quite happy.
Poet and short story writer. My short stories are mainly horror.
I was attacked in 1997 and my left leg badly burnt which led me to begin writing poetry as a means of therapeutic healing.
I am the last person who admits if I am any good, I just write and to me it is the readers who enjoy what I do that make it worth while.
Thank you for all those who come to read my efforts and with so many excellent poets here it makes it all worth while.

Chris

I have also been experimenting with YouTube from 2014. I have a handful of poems on there. Most Popular seems to be Goldfish Dreams (Chris Smith is the name on there but search for Goldfish Dreams and I'm easier to find).

www.facebook.com/welshpoetcs2.

I am also on Twitter as welshpoetcs and on Tumblr as Darkpoetsoul.

I have been using Hello Poetry since 2009.
I also use www.apolloblessed.ning.com.

If you would like a collaboration poem I'm quite happy.
Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul
Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul
May 17      May 17

I am a stranger
Of a forgotten touch
Where love once came
Now a forbidden embrace

Just a stranger
Who desired too much
Needing a heart to claim
But now, lost without a trace

Stranger in another land
With no other place to go
No arms there to hold me
Burning in a sun, all alone

A stranger who doesn't understand
Of all the things I need to know
A prisoner who is never set free
Feeling this heat, on my own

Copyright © Chris Smith 2014
pafos, Cyprus

You got in the way
Of the backlash
From uncontrollable,
Unreasonable rage

Smashed in the mouth
Blood and pain
Only left with
Broken teeth

You never saw
The coming meltdown
All you did
Was sit next to him

But he doesn't know
Never realises
Exactly what he did
Not his fault

He's only a child
On a high spectrum
You'll forgive him
Because I do

Copyright © Chris Smith 2015
Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul
Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul
May 9      May 9

There is a subtle grace
To the whispers veiled
In caress of autumnal promise
Would that I could offer their solace
Where all seems beyond repair

So much light hidden
Where it once shone brightly
Your touch offers strength, always
Taking this mind, this soul, this heart
Offering something needed, something new

So perhaps it can forever dwell in the senses
That have long ago left to dwell with stars
For there was a time when sorrow yielded
To a future soundscape of colour and intrigue
A desire called destiny that called to me

In tears we paint the future
On a landscape of sorrows
Building towards the clouds above
Searching for a glimpse of the sun
For we share ourselves reluctantly

What else is there to do?
But take the moments
Seize the hurt and watch it die
For in its death
We shall liberate our cries

Set free the chaos of emotions
Where bonds were created
On the power of friendship
Throwing off our shackled lives
To be free, to be at peace

Copyright © Chris Smith and Poppy Ruth Silver 2012

Poppy Ruth Silver is a singer and poet and can be found on Facebook and www.apolloblessed.ning.com
  Reposted by Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul  ·  May 9
Phantom Byron Lorde
Phantom Byron Lorde
May 9      May 9

Cry the untold tears
Bought by unsold fears
By a lonely grave
Where only a slave
Sheds rivers for a poet
Bloody tears flow it
Down to a sea of voices
Full of forbidden choices
But why it could be
When nobody cries for me

True evil is not for the visible eye
It hides away, from sight, to defy
Would it give itself away, oh no
True evil is not there for show

Amongst you it will always remain
Feed on you, then drive you insane
It looks like a demon to one another
But appears as a saint to any other

You will know where it has been
The Devil tricks you, but never seen
It may be something good in your eyes
But true evil is a master of disguise

Is it waiting, impatiently to strike?
Do you wonder what it looks like?
Face it at last, break down and cry
When true evil comes, it is time to die

Copyright © Chris Smith 2009
#gothic   #evil  

Time passes
Nothing lasts
Nobody cares
Nobody there
Heart cries
Love hurts
Minds shatter
People go
So alone
Nothing matters
Without you
Lost love
All gone
Just say
Two words

Copyright © Chris Smith 2000

Shadows paint slowly across these walls
Like cold fingers that reach out to touch
Creeping like some spectre come calling
As the light seems, slowly to fade away
Seemly to abandon itself, to the dark

The mind starts to play strange tricks
Was that a sound from somewhere behind?
Could that have been the faintest of whispers?
The shadows are gone, darkness comes calling
The heat of a dead day gives in to the cold night

Somewhere outside, an owl hoots, shivers begin
The stairs creak, as in protest of hours gone
The rain starts,  and taps rapidly at the window
Then the wind screams with a mournful howl
The blankets never seem to keep out that icy embrace

Sleep fails to visit, and night still has that fear
Too afraid to attempt to switch on the light
Too scared to stop that groaning door that sways
Imagination is gripped with nightmarish visions
Surely that was not laughter under the bed

But weary eyes take their toll, hours have passed
Nothing has happened, and all seems to be safe
Until the thunder comes crashing down, hard
And the lightening flashes like hellish fire
Under the covers, to block out the terror

Peaking out, with the trembling of hands
Something is there, standing in the corner
Within the darkest part of the room
Watching, as if a predator studying prey
This is no fogged impression of a dark dream

But just as quickly as the fiendish entity appeared
Now it is gone, no remainder it ever had been
That feeling is here, knowing it had been real
Sleep finally takes you into a sleepless slumber
Morning light has come, but the shadows will return

Copyright © Chris Smith 2010
#gothic  
 
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