Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"somberness" poems
A little guilt goes a long way Even the sturdiest oak can be made to sway Figments of people duped by atavistic views Waking up from bouts of fervor A most sadistic snooze They repose like overgrown fountains of youth Their dreams rusted, forgotten and that’s the truth In a lonely forest, oaks fall with the loudest screams A somberness aided by clouds and defective sun beams My soul has finally given in to moralistic cracks For now it’s about as clean as mud pies and tire tracks I’m wobbling down my lifetime from crutch to crutch Wondering when to finally whisper **** I’ve seen too much” So please, return me home, send my spirit way down below To lands of rusted dreams and toss-turned pillows
0
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
Flora Diaspora
O fair Helena descending- How could you not look at me? You were once Narcissus in the meadow; Kissing the soil- Blooming with lavenders- Basking in the afternoon sun- Where did all your sunshine go? Your blurry reflection- of somberness; heavy eyes; calloused hands; disheveled hair; timid air- Dismayed the goddess in you. Faded golden lyre; Withered Pierian roses; Crushed altar of flame; Mortal madness! Ascend back to the divines- Depart from this mortal coil; Be the Narcissus in the meadow.
0
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 11:35 PM UTC
Mirror of Dismay
Torrents of vapor ridden wind, snatched at her hair. Below, rattled the rapid, riotous and vast, rippling sea. Churning, like a chewing, charming serpent's lair. Once long ago I knew her; with time she left me be. On the edge she was, with will to leap t'wards the horizons. The brittle cliff would not give way, for even it was curious. Dare say all of nature reacted for the most prurient reasons. Even the sky descended to watch, with a lightning so furious. She beheld no fear and the sky wept with thunderous applause. Her bare marble-like features glistened in the gleaning of the gloom. Why she stood there, triumphantly, tempting, terror, for what cause? It will never be known, for she never was, in a time before this doom. The earth shook like the hands of a beleaguered, berated old man. It erected monoliths. Volcanoes, pluming molten magma skyward. The red glow brought heat; earth thought to please her, or so was its plan. The elements wrestled for the better view of that beauty stalwart. Never had a sight been so majestically violent, so mightily tame. Where she stood, should and would forever more be a sacred place. The tempest of the elements raged on, though none would win the game. A silence, softly, settled the rambunctiousness, and halted their race. The skies parted with a sad and lowly somberness. Every elated, embittered, element safely put to rest. As the sun swept aside all their postulated, pettiness. Rays of the sun showered her with bright white zest. The lady, she moved with unfathomable grace. She tilted her perfect head up to the skies. With the slightest of a smile shook her face. Like all before, she left them there surprised... and forever, there she stood.
0
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
There She Stood...
Torrents of vapor ridden wind, snatched at her hair. Below, rattled the rapid, riotous and vast, rippling sea. Churning, like a chewing, charming serpent's lair. Once long ago I knew her; with time she left me be. On the edge she was, with will to leap t'wards the horizons. The brittle cliff would not give way, for even it was curious. Dare say all of nature reacted for the most prurient reasons. Even the sky descended to watch, with a lightning so furious. She beheld no fear and the sky wept with thunderous applause. Her bare marble-like features glistened in the gleaning of the gloom. Why she stood there, triumphantly, tempting, terror, for what cause? It will never be known, for she never was, in a time before this doom. The earth shook like the hands of a beleaguered, berated old man. It erected monoliths. Volcanoes, pluming molten magma skyward. The red glow brought heat; earth thought to please her, or so was its plan. The elements wrestled for the better view of that beauty stalwart. Never had a sight been so majestically violent, so mightily tame. Where she stood, should and would forever more be a sacred place. The tempest of the elements raged on, though none would win the game. A silence, softly, settled the rambunctiousness, and halted their race. The skies parted with a sad and lowly somberness. Every elated, embittered, element safely put to rest. As the sun swept aside all their postulated, pettiness. Rays of the sun showered her with bright white zest. The lady, she moved with unfathomable grace. She tilted her perfect head up to the skies. With the slightest of a smile shook her face. Like all before, she left them there surprised... and forever, there she stood.
Continue reading...
28
Light seems to shine brightest through tears And color's most vibrant after storms Joy is only felt because sadness is known And something new replaces only something worn The beauty in sorrow is not always seen So we avoid any kind of lament But melancholy is mesmeric and somberness shimmers in the dark It's the misery and grief we resent Remember this when your heart becomes an anchor There is great beauty in sorrow, in solitude, in pain Watery eyes and broken souls aren't ugly For you can't have a rainbow without the rain
0
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
Beautiful Sorrow
Dearest Dear, What have you done? In vain will be this death. The somberness I carry, finally, will cross the finish line & breathe. On the count of three, I will make sure you sleep better at night. Protect you, as if alive, As it should've been. You owned  a Soul, here on Earth. It wails for you. Stand back, after just fourteen days, It would be as if, I was never here. You will be in peace, I'll make sure from the Other side, Because even after this life, I will love you. Yes, I actually, really, Love you. One, Two, Three.
0
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 10:16 AM UTC
A Suicide Note
A journey to undiscovered lands In a steps of a crying free man Strange faces above the grounds Strange winds under the sun An effulgent of neon skies It touch plains and valleys Standing along the Irish isle Somberness absorb with fireflies As sound of silence fills within In a barren and cannon lands Searing heats from a distance of Swirling and whirling of skies An Irish stood the ground In a path of a new horizon Soul’s being captivated in wonder Save breaths to be last A journey too far to reach In an hour of silence and loneliness Stillness is the cure of confusions Song calms the raging seas A moment to gather treasures In a great plain of orange county Sweetness helps restore my sense Solemnity really found inside A glimpse of a moment It heals my broken wounds So, sunshine make great day So, starry creates a bright light As I truly wandered to be there In a great plain of tranquility   Silence must be comprehended ~ with Silence of great mystery Am truly get awe and wonder In an oasis of my dreams So peaceful and lovely So exciting and great voyage At last am truly awaken In yearning of amazing journey So to stand once again Surely for eternity…..
0
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 12:34 AM UTC
OASIS of RHAVANAH
By Arcassin & Elizabeth Squires AB Cinematic dramatic troubled teen, Love drivin, Insane, As far as the eye can see, You wouldn't believe, Hurt, Inspired her to dream and make a mends, But never give a **** about a single friend, Shadows creep, Suicidal to the core, Whole freshman year, Known as the ***** But in life, You must think, And save up for what else is in store, ES A career,  Something to hold onto,  Direction in life, Not the frittering away, Of a valuable opportunity,  Troubled teen turning around, The ***** tag within, Wearing the good girl chameleon skin,  Paving a diamond studded road ahead,  Getting her mindset,  Straight, The knife which bought her pain,  Not needed,  Of its somberness, Optimistic aims and goals,  Superseded.
0
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 9:16 PM UTC
"Angry Heart" (Elizabeth Squires & Arcassin B)
How sad must I make myself? When petty annoyance turns to dust, a swirl of caster oil on my tongue, need I stab in infinite direction for something to grasp onto? When does blood end and choice begin? How much *** must I smoke to stop paying attention? Do you want to be here? The answer is assuredly No. I know because I know you. You will numb yourself until the little tiny hairs of your forearm rise and prickle and beckon for sunlight, escape from dark room of blanket piles and ***** clothes. Do you want to be here? The answer is in the How. Should I keep projecting or wear my insecurities on my sleeve like a good boy, feelings and resolve and dedication to family? Where did my poem go? Does it want to be here? Should I pull it up from the ether, all hot ember and critique, or might I let it flounder and drown, all not together and scatterbrain, best left on edit table in drunken somberness and existential envy, slow motion. Do you want to be here? I am asking for a friend.
0
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Do You Want To Be Here?
Somberness is a black pen Writing words of despair Somberness is a black cloud In a sea of blue Somberness is an ice cream cone Left abandoned on the sidewalk Happiness is a black pen Illustrating words of encouragement Happiness is a black cloud Bringing rain to thirsty crops Happiness is an ice cream come Shared by a mother and child
0
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
Metaphor
She slept still on the cold bed Her fragile frame was forever fixed The sullen smile on her frown face Crowned her earthly end An emblem of victory gained in demise The somberness of the ominous knell Ushered in the undertaker for his task To amass his masters latest loot Fallen along the weary long way A rose bruised before its bloom The lamentations of the little lass The groan of the grey gentleman The solemn sympathy of a stranger The clergy’s confession of her circumstances All a label of a life led in liaison The strongly sealed sepulcher Bears the remains of her mortality The epitaph on it concise as her life A testament of her times to lingering legs On rock engraved on hearts chronicled forever The worms that merry on corpses Shall soon party for their spoil That skin so tender shall decay From this world she carried eternal hope And though she is dead she shall live.
0
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC
though she is dead she shall live
2:00 am This is the sort of silence that makes a man insane. 2:01 I find myself writing once again, coping as I can. A lovesick heart still writhing in the throes of loss And spewing empty words, lacking any meaning.   2:03 And I'm still unoriginal; Never have I said a thing not said before. 2:10 And I wonder why it's taking me so long to get over you And why your visage fills my vision every time I shut my weary eyes. 2:12 And I ought to take back every word I’ve said Because I didn’t mean them, or at least I shouldn’t have. 2:25 I'm beginning to believe you'll never be the one for me. 2:26 And I realize you came to that conclusion long ago. 2:40 And I find it funny that somehow, even now You keep me from my sleep and haunt my every dream. 2:45 I'm feeling rather sick Of sitting on the sadder side of somberness. 2:58 It's nights like this that make me wonder if I'll ever be complete again.
0
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
Throes
Often, these dreams pierce the veil, between sadness and bliss. Armies cross bliss is defenseless I wake up cold My steps feel the weight of the stone floor out to the window, my dreams take me… Even awake, dreams command my vision. The world is blind to me and I am blind to the world. They do not bear my dreams and I do not know their torment. If they knew my dreams, they would carry me forward hands on my hand we move the bricks together sight for sight blindness for blindness dreams for truth The strange warmth of fellowship fades in loneliness, as if it were antidote… or poison. Still, the memories linger sparking yearning to blaze but they cannot provide warmth for they are dreams and fires must feed on flesh. The armies continue to pour from somberness into bliss the fires wink out softly my eyes dull; my dreams fade. And for once, I see what they all saw… Darkness.
0
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC
Osmosis...
I used to feel fireworks fly and go off in my head, My eyes used to light up like supernovas, And my heart used to jump out of my chest like a frog in hot water The feelings I had for you once brought cheer And let the angels come down from heaven To combat the demons that held me to the ground And prevented me from ascending towards God's light Alas, those days are gone like leaves in the wind I am greeted by a dark, starless nighttime sky (A sky which used to burst into color) I drown in the somberness of it all And let it embrace me in all its tenebrous beauty Without love there are no fireworks in my head, The stars in my eyes begin to dim and fade, And my heart does not beat I wish that my feelings for you could once again open the clouds And show me the angels who freed me from ******* But those feelings are gone and those days have passed
0
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
One-off
They tell me the world is full of colors, making everything so lively and bright. Yet all i see is somberness and pain, hearts filled with colors dark as the night.
0
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 2:20 AM UTC
Colors
Every wish has a closed eye, and so does every prayer, Every sin has a motive, and so does every dare. For better there is worse, and for then there is now, so let life balance for you, What to do and how! I'm told you only live once, but do you really know? I swear i'll have an afterlife, Yet I've had one before. It started when I picked a star, off of the milkyway, I wanted to keep it for myself, So I hid its light away. It wasn't very smart of me, because when I saw it next, It had blown a hole in my small world, and took me to the next. Where all I do is float about, full of Joy and happiness, Yet I know I have to get back, to a dull somberness. If you are reading this, Its probably best you know, That I am just a crazy dreamer, looking for a show.
0
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 5:57 AM UTC
Once upon a Star
In your restless mind Even fears don't push out dreams But I know you'll dream about me And when the sun rises And your gentle eyes open They will be full of the adventures You had with me In the land of mystery Our minds, though separate Float in synchronization For the bond, the connection That we all call love Binds us to each other And takes us to our wonderlands Unbeknownst to us Unbeknownst to everyone Places of secret Places of mystery Places of love Places of joy Places of tenderness Places of contentment Places of serenity Places of somberness. Dreams. They take us away from reality And set us free
0
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 10:28 PM UTC
Dream
The air so thick with blackness A knife could slice it through The mind shrouded in darkness Any light would snuffed be too The soul enchained in sadness Crushing fetters of grief so blue The spirit doused in coldness Icy grip of memories, tis cruel Dark night of my soul's distress Sunrise, nay none in view. My world of obscure somberness No glimmer, no ray, no dew. My unending  night, comfortless my constant companion you Never you left me friendless My dark night, ever so true.
0
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
Loneliness of the Soul
Oh, honey Are you still looking for encouraging words to get you by? Okay, here're a couple, they're worth a try. *"Do you see the sunrise in every day? Trust me, love, It'll take all your hope Once it fades away. You think you'll be fine Because you have people around? Guess who weighs more on their scale, dear? Not people like you, not tokens tossed when found. ***** all of them and Hang out with me, They won't like you, you're trash and Forgotten easily. Stop listening to them, Only listen to me! I'll give you the cold, hard truth; They'll give you fake sympathy. Are you scared, my dear? Want to cry and flee? Then latch onto my words, promise I won't make you feel worse. I'll just tell you frankly What people really see. I love you, you love me, Isn't that how it's supposed to be?! I'll soothe your worries, And ease your thoughts. Acid to the wounds, Those are my only rules. We're meant to be, Though, don't think of me too much; I wouldn't want you getting needy, or Causing somberness of such."* Signing off... Your best friend and your biggest fan, I'm practically family. The dreaded horror in your mind, Your own anxiety. p.b.l. 08/02/2016
0
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
the greatest love
Crying In The Shadows My Heart Withers Wilted In Shame Of My Loneliness, Trapped Beneath The Shackles My Heart Rattled, Hoping To Find Someone Who Finds My Pawprint In The Black Snow, Who Follows Through My Mist Of Loneliness Who Sniffs Who Finds Hope For Me Emotionally The Honest Ones Who Get This Message The One Who Is Honest To My Face ~Paris Styron~ To My Face During The Black Dark Days, Which Leads To My Tearful Black Tears, Running Somberly Down An Empty Hole Saying "Where Will I Go" ~Paris Styron~ My Dark Sorrows Grasp My Hopes And Dreams Render Them Helpless Tantalizing My Emotions With Sorrows And Disbelief Perfuming Me With Despair That I Cannot Describe But With Black Bleeding Tears Running Down My Face ~Paris Styron~ Sniping One By One The Tones Darkened The Gray Clouds, Drooping The Bodies To The Grave The Bullets Flying To Their Victims Precious Light, Farewell My Friend Your Black Rose Diminished In My Heart ~Paris Styron~ ~Farewell~ The Dove's Heart Woos The Somberness Of One Soul Leaving It In Ashes Shriveled From Existence Wooing The Woefulness, Weeping For Its Victim Dripping Drooping Filling The Room With Puddles Of Blood ~Paris Styron~ Her Heart Rendered Helpless Between Her Tears Weeping For Forgiveness,, As Time Passes By Her Eyes And Her Tears Grow Dimmer Of A Color Known As Black Then Her Soul Shattered Into A Grave ~Paris Styron~
0
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
A Flower (3)
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.
0
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 10:54 PM UTC
Free-floating
Pout, with ought's body... I host a calling wind Simple service, a reaching for lauding A haps, to look beyond kind Does a shadow agree? Dark somberness, satisfied Only by sincerity When strength showed a callous side... To a world's wishes Made to guide truth, like angels With prettier advances, than life mentioned More than else, a savior of spite, which fell... Fell for a pouting love... Perhaps the eye of tradition Has the moment, we all long for; sovereign History mutual, a living sulk to intimation Somehow and always, prowess Tenacious, worth a delight triumphant Pride in its arrayed colors, surreal duress To keep an attracted eye, with love's haunt
0
Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 1:53 PM UTC
Why Done? Blessing's That Play The Part
I sit alone. I taste the bitterness of my tongue and somehow life is more bitter than this stale breath; more empty than my cold bed less comfortable, than my bleeding heart more drowning, than nonsense and less appetizing than my own rotten mind. Now I sit in two. I whisper to my friend, or, what he desires to be called... I tell him: I wonder if there is a primitive man somewhere in another world absent of the vainglory of future man. Primitive man sits, nursing a wound He stares into the night sky and dreams of my life he hopes his wound would be as superficial as mine. He imagines the weight of my wounds as mere foundations for greatness. All the while... I dream of him My friend chuckles. I say: Imagine how I see him. Imagine his mind absent of media, as if the universe cured him of some life-threatening wound. I tell my friend: He was made perfect, you know. I tell my friend: That man could cure the world if you gave him a chance. He would be a god. My friend gives me a sideways glance. What? He offers a gesture of non-confrontation. I relax. I sigh. I simmer in my somberness. Imagine him! I declare. The things he could accomplish in my life and me in his! My eyes glaze over. Instead of a deer, I'm an insect. Instead of a car, it's a train. Instead of headlights, it's the sun. I'm not frozen, I'm petrified. Because: maybe, at the end of the day, he and I are the same. That primitive man. He would bumble around society. He would be consumed by the media before having the answers. It would devour his perfection. In the wake of its ********** the carcass of his potential mastery would be a mere ornament in the media's MTV mansion. And I, society's specimen of advancement and culture? I would be devoured by that primitive man's natural world. I would be reduced to moaning and wailing, crawling like a stuck pig, hoping to find a highway, all in vain. Why don't I just lay there and die? And that nature? It wouldn't leave a carcass. It's too efficient. It's too... Monstrous. The primitive man. He's the god of his world. While I. I can dream of being a god, if that helps. But will the void mumble. Will it turn in its sleep? Will the god, in some slumber, whether dream or nightmare, ever ever dream of being me? Well. Then it's in for a rude awakening... so to speak.
0
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
Mirror our Dreams...
I sit alone. I taste the bitterness of my tongue and somehow life is more bitter than this stale breath; more empty than my cold bed less comfortable, than my bleeding heart more drowning, than nonsense and less appetizing than my own rotten mind. Now I sit in two. I whisper to my friend, or, what he desires to be called... I tell him: I wonder if there is a primitive man somewhere in another world absent of the vainglory of future man. Primitive man sits, nursing a wound He stares into the night sky and dreams of my life he hopes his wound would be as superficial as mine. He imagines the weight of my wounds as mere foundations for greatness. All the while... I dream of him My friend chuckles. I say: Imagine how I see him. Imagine his mind absent of media, as if the universe cured him of some life-threatening wound. I tell my friend: He was made perfect, you know. I tell my friend: That man could cure the world if you gave him a chance. He would be a god. My friend gives me a sideways glance. What? He offers a gesture of non-confrontation. I relax. I sigh. I simmer in my somberness. Imagine him! I declare. The things he could accomplish in my life and me in his! My eyes glaze over. Instead of a deer, I'm an insect. Instead of a car, it's a train. Instead of headlights, it's the sun. I'm not frozen, I'm petrified. Because: maybe, at the end of the day, he and I are the same. That primitive man. He would bumble around society. He would be consumed by the media before having the answers. It would devour his perfection. In the wake of its ********** the carcass of his potential mastery would be a mere ornament in the media's MTV mansion. And I, society's specimen of advancement and culture? I would be devoured by that primitive man's natural world. I would be reduced to moaning and wailing, crawling like a stuck pig, hoping to find a highway, all in vain. Why don't I just lay there and die? And that nature? It wouldn't leave a carcass. It's too efficient. It's too... Monstrous. The primitive man. He's the god of his world. While I. I can dream of being a god, if that helps. But will the void mumble. Will it turn in its sleep? Will the god, in some slumber, whether dream or nightmare, ever ever dream of being me? Well. Then it's in for a rude awakening... so to speak.
Continue reading...
77
Oh my love... Its lets me to feel alone, It lets me to think none. It gives me wounded heart, With more cuts. It might me to feel her ignorance the way I am moving ,seems more dense Everywhere somberness n always restless By reminding of her I feel, N makes me half without her…. I feel I love her But don’t know what about her Loneliness also seems in her eyes n her smiley face Tell some lies I feel I need her Coz I love her…. That can’t expressed in these few words…
0
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
Oh my love...
As the door closes, my clarity is lost The somberness cured by no write My abilities tainted by acknowledgement An ego fed, a dread nourished. Truth has become vague, experience false Passion is ignored, beseeching praise for a figment Joy betrayed, to a want to excel My heart unheard, still maintaining life. Another's opinion, precedent over my own If not commended, the quality is denied The effort of honing, can not suffice My talent blurring before it has begun to shine. To continue, I question the purpose A vision disregarded; a poet, unworthy .
0
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 1:18 PM UTC
~An Unworthy Poet~