#sombre
De ces journées ternes où le ciel plat et infini
Plafonne sur nos vies, cantonnant nos humeurs,
Se dresse parfois un luisant et pâle trait à l'horizon,
Vaine rumeur lointaine d'avenirs moins sombres;
Mais à en fixer le contraste, cette strate nous surplombant
Se métamorphosera lentement en vierge ciel,
Clair comme l'azure de ces lentes et chaudes journées,
Et cette ligne lointaine, un rassurant paysage éloigné.
Apr 5, 2022
Apr 5, 2022 at 8:33 PM UTC
the pillow hearts me redder than you do,
crowns my dreams regal over murky lands,
from somber realms to the wake of blue;
into her clasp, my wingless wishes skew,
as her cuddle bids two ears to my demands,
oh, the pillow hearts me redder than you do;
she seethes my mind, till dreams vapor thru’
the sky, bodies pitching, wings for hands,
from somber realms to the wake of blue;
they gnaw unto the moon, shave its bare into
mirrors, reflecting the truth, so I understand
that the pillow hearts me redder than you do;
in her cradle, dismal storms I can't subdue
so she showers the sorrow out of my glands
from somber realms to the wake of blue;
and when my barrels empty, floods issue
upon her, but she stems peace from her sands
for the pillow hearts me redder than you do,
from somber realms to the wake of blue.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 12:30 PM UTC
It's another night,
I decide to sit by the window side.
Eyes wander outside,
with a pen in hand and a blank paper on desk.
Eyes beg to sleep,
but something keeps me awake.
I listen to the sound of rain,
the only source of peace tonight.
The cold breeze touches my skin,
And retell their journey.
The netted curtails sway,
what a ghostly sight, it's grey.
The sky is soaked in somberness,
Clouds not letting the moonlight reach the window pane.
I remind myself, 'I'm fine and sane.'
But really,
I wonder what's darker;
the storm outside
or inside?
I lift my pen and scribble down a word or two,
Crumble it and throw it away.
I lack words to say,
Since the desire is too palpable to convey.
A desire to sink,
I want to free float after my last blink.
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 10:54 PM UTC
This bleak existence
reeks
of cisterns,
it peeks it's leaky head
above the gutters.
Shuttered **** tight.
Death is the meaning of life.
Sylvia knew it best,
resting under home,
bone heavy
and sleepless.
That jar of hers;
irksome,
thirsts on monochrome
bleakness;
needless, overblown nerves.
Smash it!
Crush it!
Whack it!
Mush it!
Classic glassy mess.
Break it!
Fix it.
Tape it.
Place it.
Back now on your head.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
A florist stands guard at the overgrown garden of broken stone teeth.
Where a million flakes of silver and white covers neatly laid out boxes of bones.
Small, separated audiences quietly chatting to themselves, unaware that no one can hear.
Where their cold grey words drip from frozen blue lips on a falling mist of old sorrow.
The trees once in full bloom appear dead, reflecting all life around.
Where the butterflies and ladybirds used to play, just as the bones in the boxes did yesterday.
Those in attendance file out one by one. They peer left and then right, realising the flower lady has gone.
And it's on their way home as the time ticks on by, the realisation that
one day,
they too,
must die.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 4:41 AM UTC
Often, the sombre emerges
Rarely, the world shines
Often, the story is told
Rarely, it comes to life
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
With each grain of rice I think of you,
when they told you they would no longer give you food,
“Get out”,
“Get out”,
but there’s nowhere to go.
You fled home to save your children.
You left everything behind because of hope,
and here the world has left you,
in torment,
and alone.
I don’t know if you pray, but I pray for you,
each and every one of you.
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
As he left for war,
with fear galore.
On the lonely streets,
She waited.
As he grew weary of walk,
weary of war,
& cursed his fate,
She waited.
As he dreamt of her,
each forlorn night,
when cold birthed frostbite,
She waited.
When winter approached,
& food scarce,
By the dying embers,
She waited.
As spring drew near,
The springs in her heart
grew weak. On her death bed,
She breathes her last.
With his hand in hers,
He waited.
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 11:27 AM UTC
Yesterday,
You were the glacier
that fed the rivers in my eyes
Today,
You are the sea -
kissing the horizon with guile
Tomorrow,
You'll be nothing more
than a speck in the sky
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 1:45 PM UTC
I sought joy by holding on to pain
Sought freedom by holding on to a chain
Trying to keep track of the time, my lifetime but I'm too scared to watch
I'll see how it passes fast and my dreams I can no longer touch
Tell me you do see the watch on my wrist
Does it show you what wasted, am I at risk?
I'm looking for fame yet I cover my face
I guess my shame brought me to this place
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 4:06 PM UTC
Colors blurred to a banausic bore,
Sights I crossed, sought my eyes no more.
Paths overused, they bore the brunt,
Of thousand hopeful feet that met the end.
All so familiar yet so strange,
What’s that my heart so craves?
Is it the fruit of seed, sown so early?
Or the bloom of desires, of my heart.
Choose I should, one path,
Can I not have it all?
Weigh, I must, of what that matters,
Or shall watch as many dreams shatter?
Some who came, made a choice,
Others just stayed, without a voice..
Many lost their battle of dreams,
That crossed their imaginary realms.
Hate I would, to do what all do,
Regret I shall, if I don’t follow.
Someone cry out for a piece of me,
Shall surrender all of me, in blissed peace.
Thoughts that bled in colors so wild,
Drained away as greys remain,
Nobody asked for a piece of me,
So I walked the path that was set for me.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
Here come the formidable rains,
An air of sombreness it decrees.
With it, bringing--
Tears of the forgotten dead.
Cleansing the earth of our influence.
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
Breathtakingly stark
icy pools in somber eyes
distant, secluded
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
Feeling astrayed
Freshly betrayed
Emotions cascade
Just no word
Going absurd
Visions blurred
No remembrance
Just a present tense
Let me be in silence
To contemplate
To hibernate
To liberate
Wanna be autonomous
Wanna go unconscious
Wanna be anonymous
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
Deep breaths become chokes and gasps...
As the air seem to get thinner.
I had promised that I shall not fall today
for people to see.
But I had just realised...
That my eyes have already betrayed me.
So here I sit, out in the clear.
Out in the rain.
Face partially drenched from the spray.
Head turned away from passing umbrellas.
I thank god for the rain,
for even if they notice me.
They wouldn't be able to tell droplets from tears.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 10:38 AM UTC
We dance in the
blood of the murdered
we revel in the
pain of the innocent
Why must we be
so cold, why are
we such utterly desecrated
temples in the eye
of the alpha omega
We have become children
of darkness, saints of
satan, we sold our
souls for this 'blessing'
Lord god save us
from our evil selves,
release the spell which
binds us to our
brother, satan the ******
We question the demons,
We doubt the angels,
We ask our brother,
We beg our lord
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 7:22 AM UTC
The moon and me
are not friends.
How can we be if we never speak?
If right now
is the first time, after nineteen evenly spaced years,
that we have taken in each other.
But it seems as though in this (maybe very crucial) moment
we've found each other
- caught eyes across this heavy distance.
Maybe I am sensational and
we look closer to each other than we actually are - it can be a deceptive space.
But I understand the moon: alone
almost always present but rarely noticed; continuously
cutting its shape, so then maybe someone can say:
hey moon, you look nice today.
If I am not sensational then I know you are funny,
moon, but your timing is always wrong
- no one laughs because your jokes come at the day-time's funeral.
Or that is just how I see you.
Good day, moon, sleep tight when the sun comes up.
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Oh yes, what are those words again?
how do they start, how and when?
sticks and stones may break my bones
but words will never hurt me
every part of my broken heart
realise the lies of that famous part
invisible fists from the verbal toil
now sit like cysts in my mental soil
a physical scar reminds me the past was real
but thanks to those fists, happiness feels surreal
a mouth from afar, a single breath
can start that silent, you know, death
the blackhole so numb
from a word so dumb
yet so strong to break my bones
and hurt so long in my fine ear drums
as the throw of blunt stones
on my skin that burns and stuns.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
February
take back your gloom
I am worth more
than sombre hours
and blue stained thoughts
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
What's my worth?
Am I worth a second glance?
Till present, from birth
Am I deserving of chance?
What's my value?
Am I worth time spent?
What did I do?
Did I squander the life lent?
What are my virtues?
Do they even shine through?
Do I put them to good use?
Or useless like a pair less shoe?
What defines me?
Is it the words that write?
Or work I do diligently?
Could it be my punches in a fight?
What have I done?
Take your time to think
Did I do it with a loaded gun?
Must've done something; must've missed the link
What am I good for?
Important work or menial labour
Could have I done more?
Achieved alone or together
Do I think differently?
Indulge in fairytale notions
Is it sheer folly?
To believe in magic potions
Am I just silly?
Do I dream too much?
Accept reality
Am I capable of such?
Do I shirk what I carry?
Should I have said no?
Did I delay and tarry?
Have I nothing to show?
Am I wrong to feel?
Is it foolish to want?
When it all is real
Now bearing the brunt
Do I wear you weary?
With my endless stupor
Why can't I bury?
Before we expire
Why do I wallow?
Wading through eye puddles
Should I just burrow?
Deep into these riddles
Why do I falter?
Why can't I heal and rise?
Why do I break and shatter?
How do I stop my eyes?
What is this dense forest?
Must everything be obscure?
Can I not be honest?
Can I not be insecure?
Could I be any more random?
Asking as they come to mind
Have I compromised my decorum?
Have I been blind?
Should I delve even deeper?
May I go on and ask?
Am I worthy of an answer?
Or should I just don my mask?
Gargantuan was my crime
Thick was its girth
Absolution this time?
Of it am I worth?
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Sometimes it's like I'm suffocating
Sometimes it's like I'm falling
Sometimes it's like I'm trapped in darkness with my head under water, drowning
But mostly it's like I'm flying so I'm okay with it
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
You cannot hide from what is to come
Whether you know it's coming or not
But to know not of what is to come
Is a true blessing,
As knowing your fate
Leaves only space to wait
And waiting, is not living
But rather an inescapable torture
You cannot hide from the inevitable.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC