"pitchblack" poems - Hello Poetry

everytime i close my eyes i see your face; in the pitchblack darkness, the outline of your soft features arise without a single imperfection, yet what a dangerous twisted game this mind creates because when i close my eyes, i see you smiling and a sin it is when i almost smile back. gd

0

Mar 19, 2015

Mar 19, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC

gd

Tadhana.

everytime i close my eyes i see your face; in the pitchblack darkness, the outline of your soft features arise without a single imperfection, yet what a dangerous twisted game this mind creates because when i close my eyes, i see you smiling and a sin it is when i almost smile back. gd

13

i this parody of life beyond a roaring loom of time like an embrace momentous through the battled equinox of chance the stirrings and strivings born of earth and sky toil, whine, whimper, moan wait and tremble, hope and pray then the clear shining after rain we sail the lifetide on leaky bottoms never to sight dry land again ii behind the shards and wrecks of innocent vagaries of wayward plunges that flee the point beside unobserved but observing a sentient mould of slime raddled at break-neck hurry before is wrinkled wisdom mellow laughter a hand-made unborn of a callow womb hereafter is ever now is gone by past is prelude iii snowwhite or pitchblack lowly or lofty free-born or fettered yearling or aging worms shall feast upon thy flesh to elements irreducible and in thy nakedness come face to face with thy maker

0

May 2, 2015

May 2, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC

frank-s-tantuico-jr

variations on life

i this parody of life beyond a roaring loom of time like an embrace momentous through the battled equinox of chance the stirrings and strivings born of earth and sky toil, whine, whimper, moan wait and tremble, hope and pray then the clear shining after rain we sail the lifetide on leaky bottoms never to sight dry land again ii behind the shards and wrecks of innocent vagaries of wayward plunges that flee the point beside unobserved but observing a sentient mould of slime raddled at break-neck hurry before is wrinkled wisdom mellow laughter a hand-made unborn of a callow womb hereafter is ever now is gone by past is prelude iii snowwhite or pitchblack lowly or lofty free-born or fettered yearling or aging worms shall feast upon thy flesh to elements irreducible and in thy nakedness come face to face with thy maker

45

Majestically under the ominous, dark clouds, The rain pours over the Earth, moistening it in a hard, then gentle way as each drop, each body of water sinks into the bottom, vanishes, With a rythm, each follow a purpose, a goal they want to reach. Fertilising the earth after a drought, letting life grow out of light after those dark clouds make room for the golden light of the rising sun. Let them be distorted, these drops of cheer, sadness, happy thoughts and agony, carried by the rough storms of an autumn afternoon. Hitting the window, they display their tune with their delicate figure, In harmony with the wistling wind and the growling of the sinister thunder the orchestra of nature reaches it's peak in this sensation. The sky is pitchblack, yet crossed by lightnings every now and then, Providing a lightshow, which might be a bit too dangerous to be around, for the music of nature, dancing, swaying across the clouds, What is it that makes this silly storm catch my attention so much ? Perhaps, the song of the lonesome rain when everyone escapes in order to not get soaked, is what truly touches my heart. Because there is no one outside to listen to it. ~ Umi

0

Sep 14, 2018

Sep 14, 2018 at 3:14 PM UTC

UmiofLove

Song of the Rain.

Majestically under the ominous, dark clouds, The rain pours over the Earth, moistening it in a hard, then gentle way as each drop, each body of water sinks into the bottom, vanishes, With a rythm, each follow a purpose, a goal they want to reach. Fertilising the earth after a drought, letting life grow out of light after those dark clouds make room for the golden light of the rising sun. Let them be distorted, these drops of cheer, sadness, happy thoughts and agony, carried by the rough storms of an autumn afternoon. Hitting the window, they display their tune with their delicate figure, In harmony with the wistling wind and the growling of the sinister thunder the orchestra of nature reaches it's peak in this sensation. The sky is pitchblack, yet crossed by lightnings every now and then, Providing a lightshow, which might be a bit too dangerous to be around, for the music of nature, dancing, swaying across the clouds, What is it that makes this silly storm catch my attention so much ? Perhaps, the song of the lonesome rain when everyone escapes in order to not get soaked, is what truly touches my heart. Because there is no one outside to listen to it. ~ Umi

13

One night, one evening Girl, scared O’re the toilet she’s heaving Ok Refrain Another shot On the way Methane ******* Ecstasy in her, broke veins Insane Propane She puts down the bottle to find her Left brain Mundane How to drown out This pain This pain Her thought train Now just an empty track Please Father I pray Give this girl her life back Hey but, This time around She’s gonna be alright This time around She’s gonna put up a fight This time around She’s ready to ignite Yea this time around She’s gonna get it right Sayin’ This time around She’s gonna be alright This time around She’s gonna take it to the heights This time around She’s ready to rewrite Yea this time around She’s gonna get it right Comeback Icepack She’s feeling around Pitchblack Missed that Take a deep breath Fill her air sack Kickback Relax Stop time Rewind To the gods above She whined But they could only sit there and laugh At the suffering of their favorite little handicraft One second from a blast From the past “Why me” she would ask She would ask Agast Harassed Daddy put his hand on her back Abashed She lashed Against the bed roughcast Night after night And day after day Their little secret Would never ever walk away Down the street Watch her feet Clippings on the concrete Retreat So sweet Calm her little heartbeat Repeat safe Repeat scared Find comfort in ******* on her hair Get away from him Get away from them She ain’t never gonna go back again She’s on her own now It’s up to her Mindset switch Emotional transfer Ain’t nothing but a reflex you see Little girl grown up She drinks away reality

0

Nov 4, 2016

Nov 4, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC

Spring lasted especially long this week. I danced alongside the tall grass, wondered about butterflies breathing the same air as me, competed with the rays of sunshine. But even in spring, there were storms. I knew it would end. So, who's next in line? Autumn? Winter? Summer? Winter. It was pitchblack. The night came too soon. So I threw my ashes into the fireplace and it lit up the room for a little while. Autumn. I saw red eyes like autumn leaves. Last night I couldn't fall asleep, so I held a candle to the devil. Summer. I heard myself breathe. My palms shouldn't slip out of what I was holding on to. and sweat shouldn't taste like metal. I..... I tasted metal and I SAW RED It watched me rearrange everything in my room but nothing was put in place. Clothes weren't the only thing that were folded and these creases I wear on my skin couldn't be ironed out. The blizzard took everything away. It was pitchblack I swear I saw myself in the mirror, but I wasn't there. And I swear you were there, but I wasn't. I breathed. Tried to do so quietly. Not wishing to leave any footprints in the sand, I ended up bringing a shoe full of sand home. That night, I watched the sandcastle I build crumble into thin air. IT WAS PITCHBLACK. Where am I? I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. Stop breathing. I SAW RED. There's a hole in the wall shaped like a fist. I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. I can't look into your eyes. IT WAS PITCHBLACK. Where is everyone? I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. I'm sorry. I SAW RED. I saw blue too I watched the tides wash the bones I used to carry and the skin I used to wear away every night. Red. Pitchblack. Breathe. Pitchblack. Pitchblack. Red. Breathe. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. I'm sorry. BREATHE. BREATHE. BREATHE. I watched the seasons change against the sun's will. I waited for the calm after a storm. I wished for them to stop. I do not want spring, summer, autumn, or winter Just give my skin and my bones back to me.

0

Dec 26, 2014

Dec 26, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC

iridescent

Tis' the seasons of depersonalisation

Spring lasted especially long this week. I danced alongside the tall grass, wondered about butterflies breathing the same air as me, competed with the rays of sunshine. But even in spring, there were storms. I knew it would end. So, who's next in line? Autumn? Winter? Summer? Winter. It was pitchblack. The night came too soon. So I threw my ashes into the fireplace and it lit up the room for a little while. Autumn. I saw red eyes like autumn leaves. Last night I couldn't fall asleep, so I held a candle to the devil. Summer. I heard myself breathe. My palms shouldn't slip out of what I was holding on to. and sweat shouldn't taste like metal. I..... I tasted metal and I SAW RED It watched me rearrange everything in my room but nothing was put in place. Clothes weren't the only thing that were folded and these creases I wear on my skin couldn't be ironed out. The blizzard took everything away. It was pitchblack I swear I saw myself in the mirror, but I wasn't there. And I swear you were there, but I wasn't. I breathed. Tried to do so quietly. Not wishing to leave any footprints in the sand, I ended up bringing a shoe full of sand home. That night, I watched the sandcastle I build crumble into thin air. IT WAS PITCHBLACK. Where am I? I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. Stop breathing. I SAW RED. There's a hole in the wall shaped like a fist. I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. I can't look into your eyes. IT WAS PITCHBLACK. Where is everyone? I HEARD MYSELF BREATHE. I'm sorry. I SAW RED. I saw blue too I watched the tides wash the bones I used to carry and the skin I used to wear away every night. Red. Pitchblack. Breathe. Pitchblack. Pitchblack. Red. Breathe. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. I'm sorry. BREATHE. BREATHE. BREATHE. I watched the seasons change against the sun's will. I waited for the calm after a storm. I wished for them to stop. I do not want spring, summer, autumn, or winter Just give my skin and my bones back to me.

61

Colorful He didn't know they cared. His lost self is drowning. Alone in the world he dared, To look at it all frowning. He felt like a horse in the water looking at the light. He was never seen by his mother. Gave up because of the fright. For all this time he was alone. No one wanted to see him cry. For all the failures he saw his own. And wished the world goodbye. Gulped into a wirlpool of menkind. Dark, pitchblack at the end of the light. Nothing he could ever find. Nothing could make him fight, at least not with all his might. His idols are weak, and chose to walk on highways. His family never blinked an eye. No one could count all those days. Were he kept asking himself why. He was a wrong soul in his own life. He did not belong in this fase. Lied who he was and took the dive. As if he was the only one in his race. Those who follow me will die, he said. So I will live on my own from now. But life is not living while dead. And he greeted his crowd with a bow. His colours match mine. That is what scared me the most. Only I pretend to be fine. While he saw more and overdosed. What colour is it, that tangled our lifelines? Will I meet my colour soon? I hope it's bright, I hope it shines. I hope it is the blue of the moon. Or the pink of a lily. The yellow of a bumblebee Oh no, don't look at it silly. It's not just the colours you see. Whatever colour it is, it's not shown by the mirror. We will never see what we carry. All we will ever see is error. We hate dispair, yet discard the merry. He met the horse and the kid. He was swimming in his own memory. The thick liquid paint stuck on the lid. He never even got to say sorry. Let's paint the world with you and me. Family, friends, that girl across the street And for the first time, it's his colour I see. My colour gave me the chance to meet. And suddenly, everyone cared All eyes were fixed on him. Aknowledged what he had beared. Everything changed on a whim. The happy feeling of sorrow. The delight of burning alive. Because there's always tomorrow. It's never too late to strive. And with pain he said the kid goodbye. He took the horse along. He never again doubted why. Suddenly falling didn't feel wrong. For he fell and I fell. And we both stood up on our feet. We're all good and well. Ready to start sketching on a new sheet. What colour is it I wear. Is it bright and prone? I claim to have much to bear. But I was never really alone.

0

Jul 28, 2019

Jul 28, 2019 at 10:38 PM UTC

Keiri

Colorful

Colorful He didn't know they cared. His lost self is drowning. Alone in the world he dared, To look at it all frowning. He felt like a horse in the water looking at the light. He was never seen by his mother. Gave up because of the fright. For all this time he was alone. No one wanted to see him cry. For all the failures he saw his own. And wished the world goodbye. Gulped into a wirlpool of menkind. Dark, pitchblack at the end of the light. Nothing he could ever find. Nothing could make him fight, at least not with all his might. His idols are weak, and chose to walk on highways. His family never blinked an eye. No one could count all those days. Were he kept asking himself why. He was a wrong soul in his own life. He did not belong in this fase. Lied who he was and took the dive. As if he was the only one in his race. Those who follow me will die, he said. So I will live on my own from now. But life is not living while dead. And he greeted his crowd with a bow. His colours match mine. That is what scared me the most. Only I pretend to be fine. While he saw more and overdosed. What colour is it, that tangled our lifelines? Will I meet my colour soon? I hope it's bright, I hope it shines. I hope it is the blue of the moon. Or the pink of a lily. The yellow of a bumblebee Oh no, don't look at it silly. It's not just the colours you see. Whatever colour it is, it's not shown by the mirror. We will never see what we carry. All we will ever see is error. We hate dispair, yet discard the merry. He met the horse and the kid. He was swimming in his own memory. The thick liquid paint stuck on the lid. He never even got to say sorry. Let's paint the world with you and me. Family, friends, that girl across the street And for the first time, it's his colour I see. My colour gave me the chance to meet. And suddenly, everyone cared All eyes were fixed on him. Aknowledged what he had beared. Everything changed on a whim. The happy feeling of sorrow. The delight of burning alive. Because there's always tomorrow. It's never too late to strive. And with pain he said the kid goodbye. He took the horse along. He never again doubted why. Suddenly falling didn't feel wrong. For he fell and I fell. And we both stood up on our feet. We're all good and well. Ready to start sketching on a new sheet. What colour is it I wear. Is it bright and prone? I claim to have much to bear. But I was never really alone.

73