"grimmest" poems
A strange and eerie silence just before the midnight train
in the distance rolling thunder, through the darkness,
here's the rain
now wind is whipping sideways, tearing limbs from massive trees,
it's a wonder, jolt of thunder, every man's not his knees!
In a frenzied call to sleepers, get your loved ones up, she screams
it's the grimmest of all reapers come to rob you of your dreams
and it's grinding up the ground ten miles south, a mile wide
and it's headed your direction, so you'd better run and hide!
So panic takes the front seat while we quickly dive for cover
and we pray for God's deliverance, 'cause no one wants to hover
and we wait upon hell's plunder,as it devastates the land
and leaves it's monster's calling card, demise of all things grand.
lighter than a feather, yet never made for flight
carried on this wrecking train through blackness of the night
butcher knives! and power tools! an airborne metal shed!
A rabbit cage! an auto harp and someone's unmade bed!
the stuff which neighbors value, all their papers, jewels and cash
have been caught up in the whirlwind, torn to shreds and churned to trash
it's then I hear the grinding of the wheels upon the track
and brace myself with others in the bowels of my shack
a locomotive bearing down, we hold on tight and pray
the shrill wind screams, you can't believe it's happening this way!
and all we care about right then is staying on the ground
and keeping those we love alive, intact and safe and sound.
The way it goes, no one quite knows the way it's gonna be
we trust that God is here to lead us through the deep Red Sea
though man's no match against it, we'll find shelter in the storms
and pray escape the reaper in the whirlwind as it forms
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
You're beautiful, To me,
my hope in the morning light and dream in the dusk of night
The sight of you opens more doors in my life than even the greatest of writings
Your beautiful eyes make me shed more tears than the Grimmest funeral
I see no earth, no creation without you in it.
Importance opens my eyes, as I do not have love for people, I cannot see a world where I must live without you.
Your auburn locks shine through my very soul, the sunlight gives your face a heavenly glow, so radiant that only a fool wouldn't fall for you,
My Angel, forgive me my carelessness but I feel only love for you and I don't believe that any words could ever describe your beauty and divinity but tried I have to explain the extent of my feelings for
you as I sit here and think, I hope to see you again and open my heart to you personally
Like I always desired in the first place.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
I am the sea. I am the clouds. And the dirt you carry within your dreams. i am the pain. i taste the blood. Even though it’s 2 o’clock in the mourning and time to go home. To the nothings and the peculiars of an emptiest life.
i am the child who once painted lipstick
on a pet / the grimmest hour I stood alone / i wanted to die / and now i’ve grown up without the hope of a warmer house I could call my life ||
i am the tea. i am the cup. Of no particular taste and i want to throw up / and it’s always the last one who calls me hon / you should get a better life. |||
:: 09-06-2018 ::
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
A strange and eerie silence just before the midnight train
in the distance rolling thunder, through the darkness,
here's the rain
now wind is whipping sideways, tearing limbs from massive trees,
it's a wonder, jolt of thunder, every man's not his knees!
In a frenzied call to sleepers, get your loved ones up, she screams
it's the grimmest of all reapers come to rob you of your dreams
and it's grinding up the ground ten miles south, a mile wide
and it's headed your direction, so you'd better run and hide!
So panic takes the front seat while we quickly dive for cover
and we pray for God's deliverance, 'cause no one wants to hover
and we wait upon hell's plunder,as it devastates the land
and leaves it's monster's calling card, demise of all things grand.
lighter than a feather, yet never made for flight
carried on this wrecking train through blackness of the night
butcher knives! and power tools! an airborne metal shed!
A rabbit cage! an auto harp and someone's unmade bed!
the stuff which neighbors value, all their papers, jewels and cash
have been caught up in the whirlwind, torn to shreds and churned to trash
it's then I hear the grinding of the wheels upon the track
and brace myself with others in the bowels of my shack
a locomotive bearing down, we hold on tight and pray
the shrill wind screams, you can't believe it's happening this way!
and all we care about right then is staying on the ground
and keeping those we love alive, intact and safe and sound.
The way it goes, no one quite knows the way it's gonna be
we trust that God is here to lead us through the deep Red Sea
though man's no match against it, we'll find shelter in the storms
and pray escape the reaper in the whirlwind as it forms
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
The genius of a thousand words all combined
through a fateful unity, no true clarity
to touch a stoical soul.
I love it.
The genius of her truly timeless thoughts
like that of a willful dreamer
lived, lasted, now braver.
I found it.
The genius of a playful imagery
bound to reconsider
glee or tragedy.
It is it.
The genius of a hopeful recovery
from the grimmest sorcery
with pure beauty, oddity
For anyone's anatomy
finds a way to thee
Oh, powerful,
Real genius,
Poetry!
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 6:00 AM UTC
There was once a boy
Full of energy
And child-like tenderness
The likes of which
Could fill a room
With the softest of light
He thought this ability,
Of bringing smiles
To the grimmest of faces,
A gift
One of his own making
He grew through this
Giving these instances of joy
Blind to the eternity of melancholy behind them
Moving in a warm field
Paying attention only to the most luscious of fruits
While ignoring the weeds which flourished under
Such a privilege he held
Partaking in his life of ignorance
Enraptured by the small moments
He took to hold eternities
He wandered in this garden
Taken only to those colors most vivid
While ignoring their insignificance
But there comes a time
When even the greatest of these colors pale
Perhaps it was a greater shock to him
To see past the earlier smiles
And finally perceive
The pain that lay behind
Masked by the limpest of wrappings
In order to prevent those outside
To share in its burden
He saw this
The greatest of depths
Fueled by his singular experience, perhaps cruel
Most never see these depths
Wrapped in similar worlds,
Built on privilege and painkillers
Never ripping off the bandage
To experience the true pain behind
He fell far
Into this abyss of loathing
Knowing not how others could live with it
Eventually deciding
He couldn’t
It’s in these instances
On the barrier between free fall
And the climb’s first grip
Which can either define an age
Or extinguish its potential
There was once a boy
Aimless and despondent
Holding the burden of experience
Of the force barely held back by the bravest of smiles
The likes of which
Could empty the most vivid of souls
With a blue acuteness
But in the moment he could have succumbed to its impossibility
He instead witnessed something similar, yet entirely unique:
A smile
Yet this one smiling, somehow, past the pain
Holding both the curve of brittle lips
And twinkle of eyes, ones which had seen it all
There was once a boy
Who grew thinking he knew joy
Able to give it at his whim
And when he found the truth behind this sentiment
In the moment he may have succumbed to its inevitability
He found where true joy was held
Not in the smile of those pretending against the truth
But in those who did so in the presence of it
And the boy was no more
As he fell
To the Man who rose in his stead
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
The shadowiness of grey,
With the grimmest glossy lining,
Cannot hinder the sun from shining,
No matter the sky in the way.
A flower needs brightness above,
As a heart requires virtue,
The heart needs a light to turn too,
Just as the flower requires love.
Dimly woven dreams of growth,
An internal quest for progress,
Beliefs that rarely ever digress,
A path that complicates both.
But a dying star has not shown its all,
As one blast is yet to come,
So with anticipation far undone,
It does not even define the fall.
For a cloud does not sing a song,
But merely floats along the day,
Heat always dedicatedly eating away,
At the changing daydream of those gone.
But the water cycle that fuels life restarts,
Breaking new clouds into a new light,
And much to a growing flowers delight,
Never keeping it and water apart.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
Why dark poems I don’t write
Though I too pass through darkness
Have my share of thunderous night
Fighting depression’s embrace!
I think of ways to swallow them down
Shove them out of my sight
Blow it away my grimmest frown
Light the dark in candlelight!
It’s not smooth job wishing them away
The shadows too powerful to yield
That always love to have their way
Thrive in dreams unfulfilled!
They tempt me to give them a chance
Succumb to their alluring might
I know if I submit to them for once
They would be all over my write!
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 5:28 AM UTC
I wander aimlessly here, here in this place where I
often go. A refuge where I come to be restored by the midnight air, ere that perfect silence into which I'm
thrown; and in which I can collect my thoughts &
know -my percipience does ignite somewhere.
Somewhere off the map. Somewhere off the globe.
Aloft in these Nameless Hallows, I travel lightly -because
my body ne'er goes... goes... goes... in these, my echoes within -within the far compass of unerring tranquility: but what an ability
-what a beautiful bliss! to cast no shadow where the
dutiful exist.
Lo!
Suddenly a downpour hits!
T'is Woe!
T'is Woe!
T'is Woe!
And, sullenly I resound her hiss.
I look thru squinting eyes as lightning is barely
lightening the glinting skies; the frightening bolts
extending and scarily resembling skyward highways
which have me verily trembling, hammered, amazed.
Tho I feel and see and hear -part of me does part with
what I fear -and the other partly remains enthralled- as
I tuck myself in so near, an attempt in thwarting the
violent squall.
Now I slog helter-skelter thru the deepening pool.
Seek I shelter like a tooling Creep or a creeping Tool.
Thunder rips the sky asunder!
Those pounding noises sound like resounding voices,
voices,
voices
and then I wonder, wonder, wonder... if the torrent is my only
torment:
or
if I must also face my other self,
that half of me
that ne'er lies completely dormant,
that hemisphere that lives and breathes and moves by stealth.
This is my grimmest fear, when I must ask myself -for my Self
- which part of me I should
shelf.
I think I can abandon both,
you see:
but then there
would be
nothing left of me...
or me...
or me.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Our every talk
an episode of competitive mind athletics
As each tries to outpace the other
On the eccentric field tracks of conversation.
We are more like ****** – militants,
For after every hello and before the next goodbye there always remains a trail of carnage;
Inside my eyes and on your face are the grimmest battlefields;
Emotions are always the casualties;
Paying the price for two egos clashing in frantic effort to maintain the gravities of inner pride.
Your name and mine;
Two eagles wrestling every hour
trying gravely to unsettle the establishment;
To shift the equilibrium,
To make the universe lose its balance.
Lady;
The survival of our acquaintance is based on something stronger than the spiritual;
Our mutualism
One flower least expected to flourish
I think nature made me for you;
I am the antithesis to your existence;
Only in our duality can peace exist;
Two powers of chaos
Tumultuous forces that cannot live without each other.
Teyana;
I think you know that I am the best thing that is ever going to happen to you.
{She Smiles and nods}
WordSmith_Wiz
31/12/2018
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
APOCALYPSE
Civilisation will sleep
in time's graveyard
there's too much hatred
bad blood that would split
every artery and vein asunder
when the human heart
could feel no more
when reason has been
swept away by the soulless indifferent wind
and nights are but the ghosts
of anguish and perdition
when dreams are hellish nightmares
and sleep is but a trail
of torturous afflictions
when peace has bidden farewell
and hopes have sunk
into abysmal oblivion
what is left
and what is there to be lived for?
now in this grimmest hour
darker than the silent grave
rises only spectre's head
ugly, ominous , relentless and revengeful
this then is the apocalypse -
the world has lost its sight
splendour and beauty
and in every corner of earth
a signboard will be found
bearing the name : Dead
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
Below the tree line,
love ran its rank course,
in hungry silence, with diligence,
where all are meat, and none are free,
to the lone wolf prowling,
through the pines,
pure of heart, and lovers dreams,
over many a distant hill he roams,
to suit his sole intelligence,
with comforts none, he speaks to me.
Here amongst these rolling hills,
sharing none other's love or trust,
resigned to chase his dimming suns,
with knowledge of his end to come.
None should know such lonely thoughts,
as this simple creature, filled with light,
chasing always loves request,
to find his longing in the night.
Howling deeds that others shun,
Silver drops of heartache shimmer,
from jaws of silent moonlight come,
glowing with the faintest glimmer,
of peaceful evenings left undone.
Such longing desires for others,
those friends, enemies, lovers,
they cannot see above,
such chilly hills where solitude lives,
Lone wolves run free and live apart,
They have no brothers,
No friends, no lovers,
to claim their lonely wandering heart,
the grimmest, coldest winds that blow,
are all they need to nourish and feed,
their hunger wandering cold,
and lean among the silent trees.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
Dusk settles in
On my grimmest despair
Of my guilty subconscious
I’m all too aware
Too fixated on quelling
The faith reservations
Uproarious tirade
Of self-confrontations
At war with
Internal conformist
Resent
I nocturnally wander
The wastes of lament
Not enough for
My suffering’s
Love hesitant
But sincere
What I actually feel
Is content
Nov 4, 2023
Nov 4, 2023 at 2:04 AM UTC
Pull the plug, return the feeling
Resurrect its deeper meaning
Eternally internal bleeding
Out the suicidal beating
Of a barely living being
Worth less than the air I'm breathing
Further in the dark receding
Nothing real to keep believing
Blinded by a faith misleading
Echoes torture chamber screaming
Silently I wither, grieving
Elegizing starless evenings
Mourning joyous moments fleeting
Buried by the grimmest reaping
Rotting slowly, maggots feeding
On whatever's left of needing
Flesh to form my muse appeasing
Where I find myself exceeding
Astral plane existence seeing
In a world of lucid dreaming
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
How very blessed you must be
If you can truly relate
To being with your eternal mate
With not a thought of being free
Isn't that how it was meant to be?
While the rest of us are not so blessed
In fact our lives are quite the mess
Eternal mates lost to fate
Have you ever really felt
The emptiness of such a place
So please
Quash the grimmest face
And give us cheaters
Just a little
Break!
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 6:52 AM UTC