By Lucy Pettigrew History is repeating itself, stuck to the cracks in my wall and festering because I don’t want to face the clean-up. Movement is still difficult, the sound of cracking bones makes me flinch even though I can’t stop bending back my own fingers, the clicking unlocking a part of me I thought was long gone. Yoga promising flexibility but not how to stop feeling guilty for a milky cup of tea afterwards. My body used to be a graveyard for excitement but now it’s t
By Jonathan Fear I crushed a wild rose, in my hand In my hand The thorns cut deep And the blood flowed fast The pain decreasing The numbness didn’t last I spread the crushed petals, on my bed On my bed The sheets, they ran red Overflowing and red Life slowly ebbing The sadness is going I crushed a wild rose, in my hand In my hand As the sheets ran red Nothing was said The wild rose, will soon be dead The wild rose was me The delicate Damaged Beautiful Wilting Wild rose Was me
By David Valentine I choke down a hundred placebos, Row by row they weekly go, The sugar sweet pseudo-psychosis . . . O Novacaine! plodding mindlessly along The narrow straits of my nerves Like the invading Messiah. O the hundred reminders of death! O the hundred strangers And the beauty that lurks in their bodies, Waiting to work its treachery! A hundred incisions and intrusions; A hundred plans and changes; A hundred contortions and confusions; My dream rearranges; I stomp
By Sara Louise Wheeler “The ear is important”, said the tutor – several times. “You hear the stressed vowel”; the hearing, always the hearing. And so, although we bent our knees, to feel the stress and recognise the penult, the epiphany came to me, like unexpected rain on a sunny day – to thwart my poetic ambitions. I’d reconciled, somewhat, with the idea that I will probably lose most of my hearing. “I’ll write” I said – in my silent bubble. But the ear is important, in orde
By Elina Tasioula ditched in the alley gimme them cigarettes got 'em paid for holla kid mamma's on the phone she licks the ashtrays bathes with dirty towels shiny? no, that ain't the word for what it was gimme those peanuts stalks the whites with washed out wallets glutted flesh starving bones gimme that money once in the alley it's a shrillin' light that is, well, not for nothin' gimme them cigarettes got 'em paid for #darkpoetsclub
By Dorota Chioma In the moment of a defeat,
In the crisis of a mental breakdown, Abused by its brutality,
Horrified by my inability to function, Aghast by my own unwillingness to try, In despair... #darkpoetsclub
By R. Moores Space, wind, trees Breathe in while you can — _little one — _the worst is yet to come Alone you are not safe, alone you are vulnerable to the void At death: blackness, nothingness, empty and bleak And then rest in the bosom of the earth Your body holding your soul intact Your sleeping survivor resting until the planetary son returns: Adam — a perfected genetic being, tall and radiant, purple light emanating timelessly And then Eve — _a beautiful, erotic creature
By Cait Price they take me to see the bone witch stick out your tongue, she commands. I dream of black tar flooding my mouth. wet-mouthed witch on my neck, blood on my teeth. you will be ill, she says seeing things like that. she is a small thing. her elbows jangle I feel l could pinch her out like a match why do you stay here, she asks- my face shuts like a desk. Maybe she can learn to love me, I say The bone witch laughs out-loud at that. oh yes? and what would that teach y
By Allan J. Manson I lie a lot.
Only about important things,
to people I love.
I cheated on your mother
but to be fair, she cheated on me.
I was a coward, and never asked
she was braver than I, so she knows what I did.
I'm not even sure if you were mine.
She never wanted you, but I did
I'm confident I do now,
but not sure I did then.
She says she doesn't think about you— or us
but she was always full of shit.
I say writing’s a dream,
By Jade M. Wong If I hang from a chandelier of ice, Will the cold seep into my bloodstream first, Like the harbinger of a frozen curse? Or will the oxygen that escapes In panicked gasps through faint blue lips, Usher in my life’s eclipse? Gazing up at the chandelier of ice, Perhaps today, I will only Admire how it twinkles so magnificently. #darkpoetsclub
By Tyler Ray Black Water washes on the shores of my mind. Searching but not finding, forever blind. Vast empty beaches stretch to the infinite. Peaceful dreams only belong to the fortunate. Weeping shadows make their presence known. Watching me over the years, as I have grown. Sand covering my feet, keeping me still. Stealing my compassion, stealing my will. And what have I done to deserve this? I have asked for wisdom and traded my bliss. As we scrape through the pictures of
By Marina Zrnic In the woods the summer dies. It howles and whistles as broken dignity, such is the night of the autumn equinox. The church bells provide us with a shallow feeling of our existence echoing through our souls and teeth. We walk and we sleep without talking, we´ve replaced the talking with the suffocating breathing that I had not known, not even in the darkest times. Forest is such a suitable place for a lady like myself. I lick my wounds among the wolves, sprink
By Hokus Grey There is not much time. The dark tide is coming, rising, like a wall, full of souls and smelling of death. Sticking to us; back tar stains our finger tips, our lips, our genitals; wherever we have touched death. In some of us it spreads from within. Tendrils of rancid ocher, reaching from the heart, creeping like long-fingered spider veins, through and up the spinal column to take the brain. The real ones look perfect on the outside, but you can see corruption i
By Elina Tasioula Extended plays on an old cassette These fun gals live to learn Sally's ladies on a featurette Tonight the johns are gonna burn That just ain't our fault Got it scratched down on the ticket 30 bucks for a chance Goes one way git it? Old man gives a 50 for a charge He says 'I'm here for the good stuff' Sally's trynna make it large Mind you doll, I'm low on snow puff Scotch, dry, on table four Like he don't care 'bout the hustle 'Your honey's waitin' at the doo
By Paul Adam Short When I sought your acceptance The only words I heard Were slick-black and cloying Spat with furnace-heat People talk About wiping the slate clean - At what point do you stop? I gave up after the fifth sponge Too absorbent And getting the tar-black To turn sun-yellow again Took too much effort Crushing the slate - To gravel - So I could I trample all over you Like you did to me Was easy But made me feel guilty The foam sponges Once springy-soft golden Became
By Tassia Dorsamy In the darkness she shed In the darkness she bled Muffled painful sound echoing in her mind Constricted heart blinding her light Her consciousness spoke, “Darkness and light can never be friends They escape each other by a simple flip of the switch at one glance Do not let that reptilian brain bewitch your senses It will only make your soul twitch, by blocking your lens.” For some time it felt like a nightmare Experienced through her darkest reality paralysi
By Chris Foster "You can be anything you want!" And parents tell children not to lie. Sweet dreams child. Growing up is hard, But wait until you have to wake up. Go ahead, spread your wings. You have those of a fly. The world pulls off one at a time. The bigger they dream, the harder they fall. Shoot for the stars, vanish into the void. Hoping for that day, you’ll wait your life away. In vain and insane. In the real world, you’ll have only one dream: happiness. Their way is e
By Georgia Lisette This body of water Swallows bodies of our daughters, bones of our sons. Unforgiving, dark, forbidding, Rolling roar at sinking sun. Beneath, the beasts, Insatiable, sleek, Electrical activity That signals what they seek. Saline gargle, Panicked splashing, Telltale sound of surface slapping Sensing from distant continents the scent of stress incontinence. Heavy, tired, socks that slide half way off feet Already freezing, Tiny speck of life in ocean vastness
By Joseph Edward Johnson Pouring blood ran into the temple foundation, The heathens had forfeited their salvation. They cried aloud together with one voice, As their god revealed his final choice. The skies fell in the ensuing, violent cataclysm, Spirits released from their fleshy prison. Bones and bodies break like glass, Judgement has come to pass. Screams fill the air demanding safe sanctuary, Red ink signs the line of humanity's obituary. Dirty hands come together for the