- 1Up 33Down 6Rainbow Reed“ Lady In Black
She follows me from room to room,
Footsteps echoing in the gloom.
Softly her boots tap up the stair,
Scents of lavender fill the air.
In mirrored reflections, she waits,
Her fractured face just stares and hates.
I catch glimpses of long black dress,
Wrapped tightly in loving caress.
Then vanishes into a mist,
I breathe in the air that she kissed.
Black eyes watch as in bed I lie,
They laugh and tease, I slowly die.
No one believes that she is there,
Just following me everywhere.
I can never be at my rest,
Its’ always me and silent guest.
By Rainbow Reed „
- 2Up 37Down 11Emily Dickinson“ Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me
The Carriage held but just Ourselves
We slowly drove, he knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the School, where Children strove
At recess in the ring
We passed the fields of gazing grain
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us
The dews drew quivering and chill
For only Gossamer, my gown
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the GROUND
The roof was scarcely visible
The cornice in the ground.
Since then 'tis centuries and yet
Feels shorter than the DAY
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
By Emily Dickenson „
- 3Up 21Down 7Lord Byron“ She Walks In Beauty
She walks in beauty like the night
of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
meets in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
had half impair'd the nameless grace
which waves in every raven tress,
or softly lightens o'er her face -
where thoughts serenely sweet express
how pure, how dear their dwelling - place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
so soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
the smiles that win, the tints that glow,
but tells in days of goodness spent,
a mind at peace with all below,
a heart whose love is innocent.
Lord George Gordon Byron „
- 4Up 22Down 9Samuel Coleridge“ The Devil's Thoughts
From his brimstone bed at break of day
A walking the DEVIL is gone,
To visit his little snug farm of the earth
And see how his stock went on.
Over the hill and over the dale,
And he went over the plain,
And backward and forward he swished his long tail
As a gentleman swishes his cane.
And how then was the Devil drest?
Oh! he was in his Sunday's best:
His jacket was red and his breeches were blue,
And there was a hole where the tail came through.
He saw a LAWYER killing a Viper
On a dung heap beside his stable,
And the Devil smiled, for it put him in mind
Of Cain and _his_ brother, Abel.
A POTHECARY on a white horse
Rode by on his vocations,
And the Devil thought of his old Friend
DEATH in the Revelations.
He saw a cottage with a double coach-house,
A cottage of gentility!
And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin
Is pride that apes humility.
He went into a rich bookseller's shop,
Quoth he! we are both of one college,
For I myself sate like a cormorant once
Fast by the tree of knowledge.
Down the river there plied, with wind and tide,
A pig with vast celerity;
And the Devil look'd wise as he saw how the while,
It cut its own throat. 'There!' quoth he with a smile,
'Goes 'England's commercial prosperity.''
As he went through Cold-Bath Fields he saw
A solitary cell;
And the Devil was pleased, for it gave him a hint
For improving his prisons in hell.
* * * * * *
General ----------- burning face
He saw with consternation,
And back to hell his way did he take,
For the Devil thought by a slight mistake
It was general conflagration.
By Samuel Coleridge „
- 5Up 23Down 11Djae Aroni“ No Heartache Without A Heart
I’ll carve my heart out and place it in a box, my keep-sake gift to you,
The continuous beating caused me pain, it had to be removed.
Keep it if you must, through it if you will,
My inability to smile again; it might as well stand still.
Loving without return is like a question without an answer,
It eats away at me; proclaim it to be my cancer.
Stamp out the fading embers in the dying flame,
It pains me to know that you’ll never call my name.
Grief pent up will break the heart, but you already did the deed to mine,
You’re like a batch of poison, vile and serpentine.
Like an open wound, infect and eat away,
The open wound caused by your hand has turned my heart to clay.
"Small sorrows speak; but great ones are silent" so I’ll purse my lips tight,
Don’t make a scene, don’t cause a fuss, it’s really quite alright.
There’s no time for sorrow, no time for pain,
Such melancholic misery brings out no gain.
I’ll take it with a smile, grinning ear-to-ear,
Slit my wrists in two; it’s all your fault dear.
By Djae Aroni „
- 6Up 10Down 2William Ernest Henley“ Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
By William Ernest Henley „
- 7Up 6Down 1Edgar Allen Poe“ Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore! „
- 8Up 7Down 2Peter Madden“
do you feel it?
as you walk slowly through the dark,
in this fallen neglected labyrinth of the mind,
where mould and filth fester upon crumbling walls,
and rainwater seeps and falls like tears of the damned,
this once great building now diseased and decaying,
a parody of the minds once entombed within,
can you hear the echos' of the screams?
from trapped helpless souls that once resided here,
lost wandering in a world they could not perceive,
inmates confined within a prison of imagined normality,
told that the very thoughts that defined them,
violated the normal and the sane,
did you see the shadows move and flicker?
showing glimpses into the realms of the tormented,
a world of cruel kindness and healing tortures,
where madness and sanity walked hand in hand,
and the doctors purging guiding light,
burned with a bright blue crackling flame...
welcome to the asylum......
- 9Up 10Down 5Robert Frost“ The Fear
A LANTERN light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
A horse's hoof pawed once the hollow floor,
And the back of the gig they stood beside
Moved in a little. The man grasped a wheel,
The woman spoke out sharply, "Whoa, stand still!"
"I saw it just as plain as a white plate,"
She said, "as the light on the dashboard ran
Along the bushes at the roadside--a man's face.
You must have seen it too."
"I didn't see it.
Are you sure----"
"Yes, I'm sure!"
"--it was a face?"
"Joel, I'll have to look. I can't go in,
I can't, and leave a thing like that unsettled.
Doors locked and curtains drawn will make no difference.
I always have felt strange when we came home
To the dark house after so long an absence,
And the key rattled loudly into place
Seemed to warn someone to be getting out
At one door as we entered at another.
What if I'm right, and someone all the time--
Don't hold my arm!"
"I say it's someone passing."
"You speak as if this were a travelled road.
You forget where we are. What is beyond
That he'd be going to or coming from
At such an hour of night, and on foot too.
What was he standing still for in the bushes?"
"It's not so very late--it's only dark.
There's more in it than you're inclined to say.
Did he look like----?"
"He looked like anyone.
I'll never rest to-night unless I know.
Give me the lantern."
"You don't want the lantern."
She pushed past him and got it for herself.
"You're not to come," she said. "This is my business.
If the time's come to face it, I'm the one
To put it the right way. He'd never dare--
Listen! He kicked a stone. Hear that, hear that!
He's coming towards us. Joel, go in--please.
Hark!--I don't hear him now. But please go in."
"In the first place you can't make me believe it's----"
"It is--or someone else he's sent to watch.
And now's the time to have it out with him
While we know definitely where he is.
Let him get off and he'll be everywhere
Around us, looking out of trees and bushes
Till I sha'n't dare to set a foot outdoors.
And I can't stand it. Joel, let me go!"
"But it's nonsense to think he'd care enough."
"You mean you couldn't understand his caring.
Oh, but you see he hadn't had enough--
Joel, I won't--I won't--I promise you.
We mustn't say hard things. You mustn't either."
"I'll be the one, if anybody goes!
But you give him the advantage with this light.
What couldn't he do to us standing here!
And if to see was what he wanted, why
He has seen all there was to see and gone."
He appeared to forget to keep his hold,
But advanced with her as she crossed the grass.
"What do you want?" she cried to all the dark.
She stretched up tall to overlook the light
That hung in both hands hot against her skirt.
"There's no one; so you're wrong," he said.
What do you want?" she cried, and then herself
Was startled when an answer really came.
"Nothing." It came from well along the road.
She reached a hand to Joel for support:
The smell of scorching woollen made her faint.
"What are you doing round this house at night?"
"Nothing." A pause: there seemed no more to say.
And then the voice again: "You seem afraid.
I saw by the way you whipped up the horse.
I'll just come forward in the lantern light
And let you see."
"Yes, do.--Joel, go back!"
She stood her ground against the noisy steps
That came on, but her body rocked a little.
"You see," the voice said.
"Oh." She looked and looked.
"You don't see--I've a child here by the hand."
"What's a child doing at this time of night----?"
"Out walking. Every child should have the memory
Of at least one long-after-bedtime walk.
"Then I should think you'd try to find
Somewhere to walk----"
"The highway as it happens--
We're stopping for the fortnight down at Dean's."
"But if that's all--Joel--you realize--
You won't think anything. You understand?
You understand that we have to be careful.
This is a very, very lonely place.
Joel!" She spoke as if she couldn't turn.
The swinging lantern lengthened to the ground,
It touched, it struck it, clattered and went out.
Robert Frost „
- 10Up 11Down 6Dorothy Parker“ Resume
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
Dorothy Parker „
- 11Up 8Down 3Terry Youll“ The Mirror
There's someone in my mirrow
he isn't always there
He looks a little like me with the same quite bushy hair
He is not there all the time only when i look
And even when I'm reading he has the exact same book
He scares me rigid worse every day
Hope when I break the mirrow he will go away,
But I can't break the mirrow cos if I do he may
Be around for ever And just deside to stay
By Terry Youll „
- 12Up 8Down 6Rainbow Reed“ Online Lover
City sounds screamed and swirled,
Sirens raced through neon world,
Shutters shook, while ghost trucks sped
Lewd vacant sign flashed deep red.
Her laptop buzzed and flickered,
While angry parents bickered.
She stared at the screen entranced,
Red electric shadows danced.
Angry voices drifted near,
Pa sailed in on wave of fear,
"Switch that off!" Screams, floating head.
And get some real friends instead.
Footsteps fiercely stomp away.
Girl opens laptop to play,
Hidden under counterpane,
Waiting for the storm to wane.
Port of safety, sight unseen,
Message moves across the screen.
Online lover wants to meet,
Wild racing heart skips a beat.
Laptop lies on tousled bed,
Swamped in linen, glowing red.
Bedding smoulders in the gloom,
Smoky waves surge from the room…..
In strip club across two states.
Josh, fifteen, but thirty waits.
Balding hair and sweating hand,
Waiting for his catch to land…
At the coach station she waits,
Tiny girl by boarding gates,
In rucksack sharpened cleaver,
Lover Josh will never leave her…
Rainbow Reed „
- 13Up 6Down 4Rainbow Reed“ The Wicked Come is an exciting, sinister collection of Dark Romantic and Gothic Horror poetry featuring many new twisted exciting poems from horror writer Rainbow Reed.All the poems are written in a different form or style some amusing, some eerie and some just wicked. The collection explores the darker side of humanity, what happens when people love too much, when sanity crashes against madness and meet the characters that inhabit the shadow lands of society: the gourmet detective, the doctor with unusual hobbies, the unnatural gardener and other fascinating creatures. „
- 14Up 6Down 4Krystal Asher“ Death Of A Garden
A mist enshrouded garden
Sown with faded memory
One so long forgotten
As if eyes had never seen
I can tell in the twilight
Nothing here still grows
Each vine lay shriveled
In some dark repose
Leaves curl upon themselves
As if in the instance of demise
They cringed from their destruction
With terrified surprise
Long bereft of hue
Painted now with hoarfrost
For the wanderer to view
A withered necropolis
Naught but dust for soil
And did one yearn to salvage it
The land would not reward the toil
A sudden realization dawned
I stilled on the path I tread
The garden was my heart
And it was truly dead
I sat on that broken road
Numb with epiphany
How could something die
And no one seem to see?
Once there was beauty here
Yet no one realized
And no one mourns the passing
When a secret dies
Krystal Asher „
- 15Up 6Down 4Stephen Maria Crane“ Behold The Grave Of A Wicked Man
Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
And near it, a stern spirit.
There came a drooping maid with violets,
But the spirit grasped her arm.
"No flowers for him," he said.
The maid wept: "Ah, I loved him."
But the spirit, grim and frowning:
"No flowers for him."
Now, this is it -- If the spirit was just,
Why did the maid weep?
By Stephen Maria Crane „
- 16Up 5Down 3Karen Burger“ Innocence Turned Evil
The distant snow on ancient path
my darling, daughter, dear
she climbed the distant hill
hair of Gold and skin of White
Blue eyes filled with broken tears
still an evil woman creep
upon the village laid in snow
a shadow fall across the yard
the sun is Black, the wind is cold
now she lay there in the snow
red with innocence, devil's bride
By Karen Burger „
- 17Up 6Down 6E.E. Cummings“ dying is fine)but Death
Death if Death
when(instead of stopping to think)you
begin to feel of it,dying
cause dying is
it mildly lively(but
& artificial &
evil & legal)
we thank thee
almighty for dying
(forgive us,o life!the sin of Death „
- 18Up 1Down 1Peter Madden“ The pain i feel from my wounds hurts not ,
when compared to the pain in my soul, To be cast from my father , my creator , my reason to be, To be cast down amoungst the savages who doubt his very existance, with only dispair to keep me company i gaze up into the sky, and the rain upon my face falls like tears......
I am fallen , wings burnt and charred , never to see again the glories of the divine....
I walk amoungst you silently and unseen, Listening to you call my name, seeking justification for all your sins, making me the one you seek to blame, to escape the justice of my father, and to enter his kingdom blessed and guilt free,
i scream unto the heavens that i am innocent! i pound my fist upon the doors of my fathers house! i cry into the night begging for my sire to hear my plea!
My pain in my heart cleaves my soul , my wounds do not heal,
I pray for forgiveness knowing it can never be....I am fallen....
- 19Up 0Down 0Rainbow Reed“ She floats
Outside my window.
yIn my dreams.
Black dress fluttering
All about her.
Glowing face ofFinest Silk.
Watching me throughShimmery veil.
Scratches window withSharpened nails.
Bright eyes begging,
Long tongue licking
Waking in a
I open window
Vision of beauty.
A waning moon.
Drawn from Cracks
Inside my mind.
Beckons me with
Long sleeve flapping.
To creaky window sill.
Sounds of flight.
Desperate to belong.
Gusts of hope
The path bleeds red.
As smiling sweetly,
To feed. „
- 20Up 0Down 0
The StatueArnold Bennett
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