Play Kit (A Dark Collection)
This is one of the dark poetry which I wrote as a writing exercise. Dark poetry is not my usual genre. I had fun writing it.
she put her lace-up
thigh high boots on
as the final touch
before leaving for
the special call
she swiped in
walked straight to
the plush velvet bed
she layed out meticulously
gas mask
ball gag
cuffs
ball lock
flogger set
strap-on
and kept
the digital scale
in her play kit
underneath the bed
he was a special one
to her
she almost loved him
in her
faint conscience
she completed the
2 hour assignment
he was exhausted
and satisfied
instead of
feeling disgusted
as usual
this time
she felt
a sense of beauty
glancing over
his vulnerable
shriveled body
a dear little lamb
unawared of its fate
it was time
for her pleasure
and gratification
she took her time
Chopin op 25 no.1 on repeat
crimson spots and sprays
raw primal smell
metalic light salty
the latex gloves
stopped her kinaesthesia
she masterfully
dissected the lamb
she pulled out the scale
weighted
the heart
then liver
then kidneys
she bloomed
an orgasmic
smile
Trapped (A Dark Collection)
This is one of the dark poetry which I wrote as a writing exercise. Dark poetry is not my usual genre. I had fun writing it.
he barely goes to the well
he knows spring ain’t flowing
there were times
hard times, soul searching times
he sat by the well
sobbing
telling her about the hard yakka
he poured into the farm
yet yielded no return
except rats
he gave thanks to her
for the insurance money
which kept it going
and kept him sane
not by her own will though
then
he cursed her for
the nightmares
she inflicted upon him
“I love you sweetheart.
You had been good to me.
The farm is my everything.
I sacrificed you.
Now I am bearing the pain and loss.
Would you let go of my torment,
depart from me my darling wife?”
Orange Peel
Sexy lady
Ordered from the menu
Last night's zest
Stained my fingernail
This morning
The off smell irritated
my spliting headache
Why Aren’t The Roses Growing (A Dark Collection)
This is one of the dark poetry which I wrote as a writing exercise. Dark poetry is not my usual genre. I had fun writing it.
his neighbour always had a smile
hanging above her taut full lips
wearing yoga pants and platform shoes
she also had a cat always hungry
the feral creature preyed on his birds
with deprived and snarling face
he checked the cage everyday
OCD on its bars and lock
leaving no chance for the predator
to his dismay
he returned home to find an empty cage
with no sign of his two budgies
only
the feline was grooming uncaringly
…
he is looking out the window to the garden
wondering why his roses are’t growing
blood and bones are meant to be
excellent feed for roses
he was careful with the burial
to ensure gradual decomposition
and slow release
he cannot understand
why aren’t the roses growing
perhaps cats do indeed
have nine lives
Hell
The Living Poetry prompt – Hell
Hell is a permanent stage of rejection. Just try to imagine everything you ask for the answer is always 'No!'
Unusual (A Dark Collection)
This is one of the dark poetry which I wrote as a writing exercise. Dark poetry is not my usual genre. I had fun writing it.
a murder mystery
occured at three o’clock
nobody’s around at noon
only a mutt roaming the morgue
here laying horizontal
a koi once was coy
would it be the furry feline
who is licking its lilac coat
or the hunt alone heron
who is parading the pasture
the crime scene creates suspicion
blue-green algae blankets afloat
the floppy leaved floating lilies
consealing goldfish’s corpses
tainted water toxic pond
poisonous plant
inflicted the innocents
unusual mystery unravelled
Rust (A Dark Collection)
This is one of the dark poetry which I wrote as a writing exercise. Dark poetry is not my usual genre. I had fun writing it.
the sky is weeping
for the loss of
a loving mother
a supportive daughter
a caring friend
at the blooming age of 33
the wind is raging
against her murderer
a chameleon charmed his way
into her innocent heart
a fungi corrupted her being
eventually caused her to
lose her defence
she is lying in repose
a beauty covered in rust
like a tainted rose
The Crime Hierarchy (A Dark Collection)
This is one of the dark poetry which I wrote as a writing exercise. Dark poetry is not my usual genre. I had fun writing it.
the rambunctious head of the household
submissive yet overbearing advocate
dependents running wild
in the confine of farming life
leather face old man that hunts with a rifle
she runs over little lambs for feast
children grew up witnessing these normalities
one of the children
was convicted of second degree murder
the noise of the struggle
screaming, screeching, pleading
he had to bring them to silence
when you apply the transitive logic
it all makes sense
Magnitude of Loss
It’s sad to say goodbye my love.
It’s devastating to say goodbye my friend.
Flicker of Thoughts 