"murkiest" poems
It's a new dawn as the sun kiss the grounds
where wet dew penetrates the green grass
fresh happenings opens like a lotus flower
giving some purity from the murkiest pond
Ohh gentle wind of this pristine winter
embrace me in the song of the unborn day
let the disuse be the productivity that I long
let the grieve be the rebirth of new hope
Ohh gentle warmth of the sun ray stroke
shine the light and guide me in the day
let the vision of my happiness unfold
let the rocky cliffs clear to never return
Ohh gentle rain from above the clouds
wash the stained fuelled thoughts today
let the pride of life don the paradise
let the joy of life exorcise the yesterdays
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC
Since I was a child,
sadness has walked beside me longer than I dare confess.
She stayed through chaos and madness,
through the murkiest nights (for she is all I ever knew)
and even through my brightest hours (for I felt I did not deserve them).
Since I was a child, I was taught not to be sad—
not to feel so fiercely,
not to show who I truly am.
I was told to lock my sorrowful eyes inside a vault
with everything that made me imperfect to the world.
And so, I did,
all my life…
until you came.
You opened the vault of miseries
and embraced them one by one
until you reached my forgotten sadness.
You held her long enough to make her weep,
and for the first time in years,
I felt free to be.
You caressed her hair
as if touching a secret of the universe.
You kissed her cracks
and stitched together the frayed threads
that lashed against you, eager to cut—
and they did.
But you licked the blood from your fingers and smiled:
“We will be sad together,” you said.
And you wept.
You wept with her as she unveiled
all the times I hid her,
cloaked her in masks,
denied her the right to be mine.
All the times she was cast out as a curse,
named poison instead of balm.
All the times they tried to tear her away from me,
blind to the truth that she was
my most human refuge.
You saw her for what she is:
another way of feeling.
Thank you
for teaching me to feel.
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 3:30 AM UTC
Don't try and save me.
Thousands have tried and failed,
watched disappointingly,
each time I've derailed.
Don't set of shore and raise the sails.
Im drowning,
Sinking in a sea of what could have and what should have been
There is no life boat strong enough to take back the things I've seen
withhold my weighty heart.
my soul is anchored in the the darkest parts,
The murkiest waters.
It is held down in the depths
of despair
Save your own sons and daughters.
Im a wasted rescue mission.
Throw down your ammunition
i have enough to tear myself apart.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
Trodden and toxic with heavenly waters, this
the murkiest of hearts that badly needs dialysis
Rupturing them clean, like morning's fresh shower.
Across tables, drink affection acted out in bliss
With ice in the glass and garnished with flowers,
and trade all a black forest could have to behold,
For that glance so sincere, and a hand to hold.
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 4:47 PM UTC
One more
every night just
one more.
my veins protrude a thin layer of skin
called the back of my hand
rivers of blood that I was shocked
to find are a very deep purple.
What does that mean?
Has my blood given up on me?
Refused to bubble red and
thunder through my Nile?
I saw the Nile during winter
and witnessed first hand how
its once thriving forget-me-not
blue has turned the murkiest
of brown.
It was very sad really.
Crocodiles replaced with stumps
of driftwood or perhaps
dead Egyptian bodies growing moss.
The Nile -the shadow of Cairo’s Gotham City-
It was too cold to dip my feet in
and I think even if it wasn’t I
wouldn’t have done it really.
It’s too scary.
Almost a waste of space I
have a feeling the Egyptians will
soon deal with that.
But right now like all rivers
I guess it must flow.
Injected with steamboats and pesticides
its waves subside to
a slowest of slow pace.
And it smells like a *****
One more
every night just
one more.
so that when I close my eyes
I see purple Niles in my dreams
leaking through half-closed eyelids
that move so swiftly I
wake up to blood stained sheets
even though razors are
locked in drawers along with
the many other horrors tucked away
neatly in a box, locked,
who said we were all Pandora?
If Prometheus was an idiot it
Doesn’t mean I am. Keep something
That good to yourself.
But wow what an idiot –there’s no point
fearing a recurring doom-
the mythological liar and thief
who took humanity a step forth and
then a million back.
we would’ve figured it out sooner or later…
or don’t people look at the bigger picture?
What else would we have held
under flattened aluminum?
One more
every night just
one more.
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 12:02 PM UTC
Pinch yourself and don't feel pain
Earth bound shackles held you down
But strawberry fields let go.
See your childhood love again
Feelings lost can here be found
Play together in the snow.
Drift in limbo through the rain
Watch your past and futures drown
All your thoughts you used to know.
Dive down the darkest abyss
Killing the lurking fiends you find
Here they'll sing about your fights.
Glide through times murkiest mists
Leave all your worries behind
Lose the need of wrong or right.
Climb to the top of your bliss
Behold your wonderful mind
Cry your oceans at the sights.
Jump of the tallest tower
Realise you're falling faster
Your fears come back to haunt you.
Resist but void's your power
She's there but you fall past her
Mephistopheles pulls you.
Your streets open like flowers
He peels the stone like plaster
Fall into his jaws and through...
...Out the other side it's clear
Embrace the one you hold dear
Think of your potential here.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
He was the villain the world needed
The villain the world always had
Yet never recognized
Writing the wrongs of humanity
Puppeteering the people
Hidden behind the devilish mask of "fate"
He was a villain without destiny
A man without morals
A vigilante to some
A criminal to others
Reality to the bitter globe
He was the hero no one wanted
Yet, he was the angel the murkiest city prayed for
He was the Playwright
The shadow who wrote the greatest performances
Who took the most unrighteous city
And orchestrated the greatest theatrical achievement in history
Curtain opens
Enter Playwright
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
A girls world in a man's imagination,
Just hang in there.
I once saw a fairy Kiss the ground and a Flower arose
Even from the murkiest of depths there will always be a twinkle
Especially with How you look at the world with those big brown stellar eyes
The sunsets smile surprised me
“I still can’t pull your heart out of the ashes anyway” she said
I Have too many thoughts in my Mouth
“The greeks did not believe the gods created the universe,
It was the other way around:
The universe created the gods.”
Sherbert filled skies
With gleaming helicopter eyes
Cashmere fields to rest your head
Even the heavens cry sometimes
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
Gaining momentum through murkiest mists,
The lacking of sight learn to feel their way along……
“Wherefore hast thou been, Squire Dingus?”
Asked Idiocy, with a wink and a smile.
“I’ve been to the end of this verse, and reverse”
Said Dingus to Idiocy, in shades of denial.
“I’ve been to the end of this verse, and reverse…?”
Asked Dingus of Idiocy, with a wink and a smile.
“…Wherefore hast thou been, Squire Dingus?”
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
The point of no return
Anger fills the sight
No more controls set in place
Aggression runs with a fierce right
Set aflame by emotions
Fully coursing through a soul
Being slowly ripped apart
As it refuses to fall in the whole
Of rage and destruction
that once held tight
They comfort with hate
And pain in the night
But as one half rapidly falls into darkness
The other craves pure illumination
Because while evil can never wait
Purest lights have infinite patience
So while the scales may tip
Into the murkiest of waters
The truest hearts will never slip
And drown in fruitless angers
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
I have a wandering mind
It goes asunder at times
I pine over pitiless thoughts
I ought not to think
I become distraught
And I begin to sink
Deeper and deeper
Plummeting down
In the darkest muddiest murkiest
Of waters I begin to drown
But I realize that I am only in a puddle
And I begin my ascension
You see my anxiety transports me to another dimension
Where puddles are lakes and oceans
And I am incapable of controlling my emotions
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 7:30 PM UTC
I gazed down at your fingertips
holding a mask that always seemed to readily cover your face
whenever emotion threatened
to seep out of you
creating puddles
that could soak my knees
but never did.
And because your stories
are too explicit to repeat
I guess they were told to me
to prevent you
from ever knocking on death's door
to find more answers
like you did
that one December eve.
I was the blood that kept you alive
but failed to keep you satisfied
as if surviving isn't a goal we all should aim to achieve
but a victory that we are blessed with
when we feel we have been defeated
And as hours mold into a day
I realize
some afternoons are not meant to be productive
but to run around in circles
following the same questions
we have asked for years
My nightmares built a kayak
to cut through the ocean of lies they told to you
and if my arms were strong enough
to bear the weight of burdens that were forced upon you
maybe I wouldn't have collapsed that night
because to be strong for you
is to be everything in this world you need
They were the tools you used
to carve a lie into your soul
and say it back to me
every time I said three words to you
Maybe two can become one
but one will never look in two different directions
when being chased down
by the memories that lurk behind our futures
and lock away our pasts
Because the possibility for you exists
that someday your heart will become
more than an *****
but first we must sever the hope
that bonds our hands as one
First we must adopt identities
from an orphanage
that only houses broken personalities
and destinies
that have been obstructed
by fallen dreams
and shape them to be our own
to prove that hands are miracles
that fold euphoric memories
before placing them in a box
that shall only be opened
on the murkiest days
If these hands can hold masks to protect us
and assemble a better perspective
then we have mastered
the art of definition which creates who we are
But I will stay by your side as long as
there is enough oxygen for us to breathe
while being in such close proximity
because standing beside you
is the one thing you need
turned backs are not.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
It is this world. This human world.
A constant imperfection at best. All the while seemingly at a junction of sorts. As if it was ever a secret. A junction where media is law and where law is brittle. The regime? Imperfection at its worst. It’s a mixture of horrific thoughts and surreal actions by people at the top. But you also know that already. People who have no inkling of wisdom in their eyes. Who certainly have no compassion behind them. It is not the first time it has happened. The last century tells you all you need to know. And so do all the centuries of humanity prior. In these times we are in nothing short of a fiction. In the worst of ways. A new war of division is upon us with bigotry at the frontier. Yet any soul would be a scrooge to offer nothing more than the negatives.
I do truly believe one good thing…that if you read between the lines…you may find that this present world holds the best of ways too. One old way comes to mind. For all the division and bigotry, there is an immense union to thwart it. Those that hold sharper and broader minds. Minds that know that the good fight does not mean the absence of kindness and understanding. Just think of all the stories of old and the ones yet to be written. The ones of doom and gloom. Of dread and evil. Where there seems of no escape. Where there is a lack of air to breathe and where any sort of peace is simply one for the dreamers. Any sort of scraps are there for the capitalist schemers.
But this regime has cracks. Like most of them do. Where something simmers ever so subtly every so often. They are hidden deep in their crevices. Just waiting and waiting….for those walls keep shaking
until they are ready to spring to life.
For something ancient and undaunted has entered the fray. And its name?
Companionship I believe. For companions in times like these are an array of gold in the murkiest of waters. And what of a golden sunshine? One that caresses the arrows of fools. Rattling the being of the many bowmen to blindness? Arguably you are then the luckiest of all. For that is for the right companion. The sole comrade. So to my point. At long last. You must keep your companions close in these times. For at least you face these times alongside a friendly spirit. And better yet….suffer together. For that, those comrades are worth every penny. That is the real gold in the end. Like it always was and will be.
Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 11:08 PM UTC
My thirst for stability is insatiable, often leading to the murkiest waters.
Amazing what desperation can do to the senses.
I sense she's not right for me.
I sense she's not light but rather shiny malleable foil, adhered to the cracks in my present needs.
My common sense screams the obvious, yet the vapid darkness of loneliness drowns them out.
I'm consumed by it all.
I'm consumed by them all.
I'm consumed by the fall. As I sink deeper, its only natural to cling to whats closest to me.
I greet the facade of you wanting more so openly but I know,
That when I'm home alone your body and energy will only appear to steal my time and company.
But I'll still open the door to you.
Merely your smell will blind me to the signs as taste and touch overwhelm us.
As I converse with your lips, not even my thoughts will be heard as we cry out.
And that bliss will be worth the silence.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Every night I fall asleep to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the gentle kisses you so generously offer. Every morning I wake up to your stupid, soothing alarm and attempt to listlessly ****** you from your tasks.
You are safe and strong and like no one I’ve ever known. A calm, kind, neutral party whom I fear I may corrupt.
For there is unimaginable darkness within this heart of mine. And while you might be a pleasant distraction from the pain, your love alone cannot illuminate the murkiest parts of me.
The love I feel for you is comfortable. Like a soft blanket and a warm cup of tea. There is no passion, no desperation, no ferocity to this affection - but it is strong nonetheless.
You and I will never move mountains; so move your lips against mine.
We will never discover the secrets of love; so tell me all of yours.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Traveled through
The cursed forest
Bewitched under
Spells for miles
Swam across a
Quicksand tank
Filled with snakes
And then jumped in
The murkiest lake
Found it a mistake
Only to be caught
Confused and dizzy
Inside a crystal ball
Until the glass
Cracked and I found
A way out and then I
Ventured through
The queen's castle walls
And it was off
With my head yet
Somehow I dodged
The ax and then
I was fighting off
The headless man
On his horse with
A mask and so I
Kept moving along
Until I ran away
To a better time
All in my mind
To let the good in
Let's pretend
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 1:59 AM UTC
Hey folks, listen to the soup I’m spilling
I’m just a random lass
But I don’t give a rat’s ***
About all this huggin and loving
You think I’m inclined to fall for grace
You think I’m gonna waste my time
On this courtin and kissing
Cuz France held my first breathing
I’d gladly trade ‘em boyz I liked for a dime
I’m born to fight and I don’t ******* mean
Under their gorgeous minds and bodies
Like really. A Man, at his finest can beget
The swiftest soul and body- and what do you get?
A brain led by powers, hormones and pulsions
That is once in a while driven by addictions
So if this is your perfect human race
Then I think I’m in for the haze
That I see in your eyes and words
You wanna put up a fight, then bring your swords
Cause I love that one in a million
Flow of your heart, its alluvion
Your imperfection being my inspiration
You are at the core of my unreachable adoration
**** here I go again all cheesy with my bits
Guess I just need to take a couple more hits
The murkiest the beauty
The finest, for it is poetry
July 24, 2014
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 12:02 PM UTC
And many these meet at children:
Concussions shapeless and self-despising:
Hung of asphodel vultures: diadems,
Where murkiest die in wakes:
Charioteers superficial and blunt
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 9:05 AM UTC