keeps dark at bay
pressing in
as night wind stirs

like mocking breath
of life now lost
to light-less realm
beyond the chill
encircling me

to remain

no emotion
save grief

apples spilled
on broken stair
where rail eluded
grasping hand

no voice came
to futile cry

those lips
will not know again
sweet fruit

nor love


rob kistner © 2008
I feel a poem of light can express the joy of love,
while a dark poem expresses the depth.
I went for depth on this one.
Heart songs don’t come easily,
For they breach internal depths unseen.
Loving honestly,
A concept that can’t be placed.
Faux lives to live,
Faux dreams to chase.

I had dreams once,
But they’re so far away.
And I don’t know how to forsake
My dreams.

Or you will be my next decay.

A heart song is hardly pure harmony.
It thrives on tragedy, chaos, and anarchy.
It wakes up just to daily be killed.
When the soul is distressed,
The heart song is thrilled.
Blood in its name has been spilled.

Because of it,
Rest is so far away.
When rest comes, I’ll sleep,
And I’ll stay,
And I’ll claim,

I’m not ok,
That’s not how I feel.
I’m seconds too late.
I guess that’s just my deal.
I’d be afraid,
If I knew how to feel.
You’ll rue all my days.
For if I’m to survive,
From heart songs I steal.

Heart songs lay me down,
And let me down.
I just crave to sleep
Restfully now.
A heart song is hardly pure harmony
i've always been on top of the list,
so strong in that place,
don't ever think that i can be replaced.
i woke up to spotlights,
tommy hilfiger scent in the air just the way you like,
all i can say when i see my reflection is radiant, expensive, flawless.
i don't chase, i replace that's just my style.

i slowly began to realize,
i needed an upgrade.
you? old stuff!
i can get a new one in a second right after you left
i just need to roll the dice.

and you know what's sad?
you'll never find anyone, like me,
because i've always been the best, above the rest.
i am confident that i am your greatest lost.
It is a tragedy I would say.
To give oneself completely and fully.
To burn for friendship and for love.
There is no return.
Oh return to me, the fire I have for you.
For friendship and for love.
(Short Story)

The questions burned inside of me
searing through my guts to my core
leaving a trail of ash through this house
treating my blood like gasoline
smoke rising to my head
melting my brain
Down to this;
One question -

Did he do it?

I could hear my heart beating and watched the hairs on my skin shake a little from the rumble of its thunder.

I asked this question to myself over and over. First, in disbelief. Not letting the facts in front of me fully sink in. But as hours passed, the question began to change and I began to see the woman in the mirror staring back at me a little bit differently.

We’ve almost been here. Time and again. This place of such uncertainty and unknown. But never this close. Not here where we are today. I poured a glass of wine and kept the channel 3 tv on mute. Leaned against the cabinets and granite counter top in the kitchen. I put my head down. Starting at the residue of water stains on the glass that I had chosen. These water stains are disrupting my peace, I thought. Just another flaw in this house that nobody else sees. Infidelity allegations, sleepless nights, bedroom fights, and now this?

I put the glass down, found my way slowly in my Saint Laurent Swarovski crystal-embellished satin pumps through the dim, echoing hallway to the den. My place for morning light and his for evening company and cigars. I looked all around, starring at every wall. Flashbacks of us stripping down, him gripping my waist as he thrusted inside of me while I held on to these walls for stability. A house that has seen many things. If these walls could speak I may not believe their stories.

But this story, is difficult to disbelieve. Not revealed from walls, but through the power of the news media crew. Unfolding and developing stories ringing in my ears. Like high frequency waves making me dizzy. The story of Anna. The last breath she took and the last person to see her alive. The man they believe to be her lover. A quiet man, intuitive, logical and a realist. A hard working, loving and devoted family man. My husband, Oliver. Now under the authoritative custody of the Mipson county sheriff department, as a prime suspect for the murder of Miss Anna B Delaney.

Details of the scene have not yet been released so it is still unclear and most inconceivable to imagine what happened to Anna.
Aa Harvey Jun 12
Life is a tragedy

She lives in the shadows,
With no-one on her side.
She has always been down there;
She carries the pain behind those eyes.

She sings of melancholy,
Whilst wearing a smile.
She dreams her life will change,
But she will always live in the fire.

Her future is tragic
And everyone but her knows.
She is surrounded by friends,
But she is all alone.

She drinks from a bottle,
To forget her thoughts.
She sings from her black soul
And who would have thought?

Now she is gone from us;
We always knew this day would come.
The drink and drugs were her bullets;
Her life and thoughts were her gun.

She speaks in riddles,
In lines we can hear.
Her voice has the echoes,
Of a thousand years.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Shruti Sinha Jun 12
Reminiscing days, before I met you
A sketchy soul; hesitant and naive
So little then I knew
Terrified from a deeper dive

Lessons realized that changed my perceptions
You are the genius who taught me those
That humans herald for imperfections
As thorns are there to every rose

Mystified why fate showed me you
Like the lifeless of a land
Enchanted with a gracious dew
Like warmth to a forlorn hand

Reminiscing back, before you met me
A masterpiece soiled in the ground
The passion bled empty
For a love never found

And my heart gets piqued to the broken
To the eyes sore red from crying
To the facade that you feign
To the hope that is dying

As for you, never know what you feel
Wondering you even do care
Obscuring yourself beneath a veil
Even though my soul's shed bare

Perhaps that's the very fault in me
Always expecting a little too much
From a heart locked under a key
The truth guarded from my touch
This poem is very close to my heart as it is inspired from my personal experience.

Here, the word "enchanted" refers to the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

And the word "deeper dive" refers to the line "I'm letting go, a deeper dive" from the song Faded by Alan Walker.
Sam Jun 12
Hope, like a steel tower we cannot climb. In sorrow we confide.
Dead, like the way I feel inside. A rift torn through my soul.

Cold, like the way you chose to say goodbye.
Cold, like the day you walked into your grave.

Empty, like the way I am without you.
Warm, like all the memories we shared.
Courage found in the will to carry on.
Scarlet M Jun 8
They were both each other’s tragedy;
his ‘the one that got away’,
her beautiful blunder.
Scarlet M Jun 8
Loving him was both
      my reward and
      my greatest punishment,
      he was here,
      and then he was gone,
      and so was my heart.
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