The Valley Of Dark Poetry Revisited
Warning, this is a long one! I have taken over 500 Dark Poetry screen names
and worked them in this piece. I tried to use as few "outside" words as
Some of the hidden names to search for are
elisa, esau, alanarchy and stuart pid.
new hidden additions; ainsof, thelastdragon and lynaes
You must be familiar with Bast to find that reference.
One northern poet's three incarnations were used in one string.
One name was referred to nine times; which one? (oops, 10)
The answers are after the list of names used at the end of the poem.
You can find me here most anidayz, a dark restless wanderer,
a deception unto myself, taking one of my many walks
through this in defined void of a cyber space sanctuary.
Around 1:59 I sample my favorite spiritus frumenti
with a prozak chaser, then smoke a bowl of redbudyz, Mgood
and consume some gothic black dark fairy mushrooms, yum.
Sorry, but I must become numb inside
in order to prepare for the déjà vu mind rape of suicidal poets
with their bloody razors and lexicon noose(s).
The whispering willow whispers in the night,
who am I, a drifter, a brain dead silent street poet
or just a broken hearted dreamer with a broken dark old soul?
Am I a silent stalking one
who too often holds my velvet/raven/ton/gue
or just no one special?
How do I explain my manifested sorrow,
this eternal despair in seeking nirvana and solace
through the torn beauty of an elegant kiss of death?
It is always suicide season in the chasm,
where azure blue skies/ are self /denied.
Where frozen savannahs tropical snowstorms
bring Nikes recycled mercy rains
to wash away bitter sweet crimson tears,
the liquid emotion of forgotten life.
Here darkness rides a white horse
but cannot dim the subtle incandescence of a slow burn star
illuminating a fallen angel with scabbed, shredded jaded wings.
We cast our caustic ink testaments into the void.
In this cold blood theory of dark reality,
our shadows are revealed in the light.
Cre/ations left for the judgments of unbound gods
and purr verse bound feline goddesses
in hope of receiving some deliverance
from the evil and the darkness within
our blacken/ed hearts.
The mis/anth/ropic brutality
of some ill spoken, short and pretentious words,
reveal the sheath of twisted vanity mood swings
behind the ashrain drops of hate that at times
drift with the storm fury of instant insanity through this loserland.
Their perfection poisoned
by the sweet ambrosia innocence of sentient ignorance.
Egos are the dark/est light of all.
It is time for a surreality check for those pointless petulant paragons
who swing the hammer in their glass houses.
The dark reality,
no one at all means jackshit to a dead horses rotten corpse.
The silent screams of lost moody souls,
I am hated,
echo through S.aint R.eaper Parke
where wilted black roses and twisted midnight orchids
rise like Phoenixes
through the Seraphim shadow of the goodnight moon.
The tainted railway butterfly sips
of the Bella Donna nightshades vision of poison.
Next to a bleeding fallen tree,
an eyeless blinded tiger grooms the fluffy pink dancing monkey.
The heretic bard performs blasphemy,
a catastrophic symphony
of incomplete pieces and story time plot twists,
a MELvinOliverDRAUMA, in this revolting theater of dark poetry.
These mystic ventures form into a metal lullaby,
a dark melody of a sleepwalkers derelict dream not wanted
and beyond this morbid spontaneous insanity,
we are so close yet far from serenity, infinity and eternity.
Are we lost sheep or
merely lab rats running through the red haze of the midnight blaze,
and violet flames of unbridled pain.
Carpe diem Jane.
What of love and fate, a philosophy of hate and fallen faith?
This portion of our program was brought to you by
The Capt. Funguy Toy Soldier Co.
Makers of Darkside Monoply
(Charge rent on your own piece of Hell)
The ever popular
Six-Out Voodoo Hate Doll On The Rag
(Pins and needles not included)
And now back to our program
Dug down into my own black hole,
a forever cold scared alone soul
with a screaming shattered blackened heart of stone
and crimson scars of stupid art
will be kept hidden in the dark
til death do us part.
As I savor the explicit taste of your neurotic stain,
can you feel my infection with your insipid touch?
Poetic bloody black tears of hate
drip like lost luck and sweet corruption
from the raven blade of the blacked robed mage,
a prophet of pain, a skeleton on display beyond winters grave.
Yes, to find eternal peace from the cruelty of flesh,
the dead run away.
We held hands at the end of the world,
the bloody echo of miss matched hearts,
the anticipation of redemption
from the blood stained oppression of empty love.
Shall I offer to your dying angel eyes a gentlemans promise?
But, paper flower promises are gracefully torn and broken.
I see in those hopeless despairing eyes, aurora light,
against the starless crest fallen filter sky
of autumns October death.
Still the brain worm/s of lost, dazed and confused souls
lead to the evisceration of innocence.
The smeared make-up belies the empty remains
of crystal tears fallen from a crying banshee.
a so called s/urv/I/v/o/r cutting for freedom from death
usually leads to the city morgue,
where there are only lost and forgotten shadows in the night.
Do you feel like a nail/ed bunny,
broken and stripped, crossed and bound
forever paying the pennance for your dark desires.
If all else fails, no one can blame you if you wish upon a star
for it could be your one last chance to avoid that dark whisper
which utters in unspoken words, die quietly, shhh.
When those lethal ideas have returned and darkness beckons,
in your thought of thoughts, you know it is forbidden
to raze the bridge of life with your dark fires.
There is neither blissful tragedy nor beautiful calamity
bought with/the/blood of dead poets from a running vein.
There is a deeper image of you.
In what seems like a forever rain and eternal despair,
there is light in the dark.
No one likes a sad and reminded ghost.
I am so tired
stuck in neutral
a chameleon caught in charlottes web
a lifeless dark poets one last breath
or it could just be
When, upon this shipwreck of urban humility,
darkness descends on nightwing/s with its deadly embrace,
will you drea/M like Ophelia-
-drowning in her tainted, love is suicide, tears?
under the twilight night sky,
with your serotonin lost in emotion,
will you offer a precise darkened prayer
to your own december nightmare evil deity,
concerning your final destiny?
We are caught between good and evil,
poetic hellion/s facing the choice
between the thorn and the twisted rose.
Adam and his own nightly sin angel, Midsummers Eve,
(little know fact, Eve was her middle name)
chose to listen to the serpentine fire of the dark angel,
the scavenger of unforgiven souls, the hell send Edens cancer.
This portion of our program is brought to you by
Chef de Death
Purveyors of exotic cuisine
Including the popular epicurean delights
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V-E-I-N-G-O, V-E-I-N-G-O, V-E-I-N-G-O,
Veingo is his name, OH!
Sometimes I feel like Im Alice in wonderland,
(Hysteria, in so far as I can tell,
is simply imperfect Zen to a disturbed mind)
where the magic hatter spins his tangle box tales
of crimson Mr. Kings and vengeful crimson queens.
(Beauty is murder to that lovely silent assassin,
cold hearted biatch)
The mad poet articulated to me in dark epiphany
and still born empathy; I speak secret truths.
You are lost in the nexus of k/nowhere, empty man.
There is no independence in solitude.
Yes, my biggest mistake was to believe my own truthful lies.
That I am the one and lonely, a lone dark wolf
with a one fanged vision of narcissistic intelligence
vindicated untouchable in my bold solitude and beautiful scar armour.
No trespassing signs are staked into my emotionless heart of stone.
Love is overrated, deprived of reason, a double edged sword,
a reoccurring living death sentence to the tender fairy tale heart
and to that higher chaos theory, I swore never more, until. . .
AHHH, Its a dandy life being happily depressed and board out of my skull
but, I doubt suicide is my answer to this darkness in my heart
nor to the distraught memories of my twisted metal yesterdays.
I am simply me, no 1 special in this dark version of hushed sanity.
Would somebody just shoot me in the face, please just kill me.
A lip service prayer to a wilted god o/ugh/t to save me
from wandering with Faust beneath a gray brimstone sky,
lost forever in despair in the seventh circle,
where the bell of hell rings its maleficent poison
unto the tormented and tortured souls of others eternally damned.
Like those three sentient saints, who hiccup(s) their mute serenade
as they pluck melted petals from a tragic sunflower girl in the box,
We need some vodka, opium and latex dreams
Remember the fallen in scarlet memories
The dead and gones blood and tears water the seed
We need some vodka, opium and latex dreams
I would sigh on Sunday, but it is always Tuesday
I am going to cry now and fill the emptiness inside me with silent tears.
Damn, what I need is a cemetery lap dance from a caramel ninja stripper,
a bit of the ol physical graffiti.
Mr. Wiggles and his jellybean/s would like that.
Ok, Ok, I know I am a swamp pig (so skeevy)
with a lurid lust phantasy for a swamp dancer.
If that is something evil then give the credit to my double helix.
Far too many years lie in between myself
and the randomly beautiful scent of a Mistress shadow queen,
a solitary dreamer, a tiny sleeper dreaming her river dreams
of rain in the willows and torn paper dolls with tarnished halos.
Not enough miles between to avoid
the silent enigma of a poetry goddess
poetic mind blow of blue spikes of furious ice
stabbing my hex/ed and vexed dusty lost heart
like frostbite daggers in the dark.
She needs to be loved by a miracle
and my belo degraca is Im not that one guy.
(the sadistic poet and the masochistic poet should hook up)
The future of my despond is now.
No, I am not afraid nor do I feel grim sorrow,
but am pretty vacant with endifference.
I'm forever cold with fear of luvs strange injected virus.
Hence I am just a wounded mannequin, designed by death,
an alone ambivalent fool, dead inside and out
in/sanely reaching for paper cliché stars,
which came falling through a w/hole in the night sky.
Star light, star bright, who will burn in my stars tonight?
As I take the last drag on my remaining emerald grace,
the scarlet sunset whispers a terrible truth.
There is a storm comin, a painful descent towards my undecided fate.
I know I will take possession and the full blame for my own demise.
All these slander/ous tangent ponderings will be my exodus eulogy.
A singer of the night, the lyrical shadow rapture
whisper/s the song of the blackbird,
I, myself, choose to sing along;
We need some vodka, opium and latex dreams
Remember. . .
The End ?
As of 7/18/06 the numbers of names used is over 500
Again, Thank you to everyone who helped and inspired.
Approximate list of names used;
2615>a restless wanderer
10443>A Skeleton on Display
2076>A Velvet Tongue
5670>Angel With The Scabbed Wings
8243>blood stained oppression
7514>Broken Hearted Dreamer
9305>Close Yet Far
8670>CrOsSeD N BoUnD
9853>doll on the rag
8344>explain my sorrow
5363>Heart of Stone
9762>no one at all
97>S R Parke
10147>The Bard of Blasphemy
2418>The Fallen Angel
10529>to a dead horse
3468>whispers in the night
3921>Wish Upon A Star
10752 infinity and eternity
10775 Prophet of Pain
10793 Feel My Infection
10801 dark melody
10808 Twisted Rose
10809 If all else fails
10839 Vision Of Poison
10881 Darkened Prayer
10912 Eternal peace
10981 lost and confused
11000 light in the dark
11004 dark fairy
11058 Pins and Needles
10655 Black tears of hate
11949 Dying Angel
12599 Shadow Rapture
the newest used 7/18/06
989 Chef De Death
1838 Forever Cold
2973 Mistress Shadow
3221 Emptyness Inside Me
3479 frost bite
3600 Mr King
3971 Tangent Ponderings
4637 Mute Serenade
4829 one-fanged vision
5118 just shoot me in the face
5296 Beautiful Scars
5363 Heart of Stone
5933 Rain In The Willows/Malice in wonderland
5934 Simply Me
5947 Truthful Lies
6002 TheLastDragon 6432 poetry_goddess87
6976 Simply Imperfect
7374 Saint Sentient
7685 Full blame
8032 Silent Assassin
8066 The Crimson Queen
8243 Cliché/Paper Stars
8810 Slander(lab rat)
9104 etarnally damnd
9267 Ambivalent Fool
9538 No Trespassing
10057 sunflower girl
10066 MidSummers Eve
10127 Tangle Box Tales
10767 Swamp Pig
10786 Sigh on Sunday
11290 Solitary Dreamer
11467 belo desgraca
11925 hushed sanity
12224 The Crimson King
13120 Singer Of The Night
13132 higher theory
13180 Magic Hatter
13225 scent of a shadow
13236 A Tender Heart
13239 A lip Service prayer
13274 unforgiven soul
13297 tormented soul
13373 Randomly Beautiful
13375 Lurid Lust Phantasy
13414 Scarlet Whisper
13426 Hence I am
13429 Designed By Death
13433 that one guy
13443 Lost Heart
13453 Terrible Truth
where to find hidden names;
ALANARCHY; Death is etern/AL ANARCHY
ELISA; Shall I offer to your dying ang/EL EYES A/ gentlemans promise?
ESAU; I see in those hopeless despairing ey/ES, AU/rora light
STUART PID, (an anagram); and crimson scars of STUPID ART
AINSOF; Hysteri/A, IN SO F/ar as I can tell,
LYNAES, (an anagram); in/SANELY/ reaching for paper cliché stars,
THELASTDRAGON; As I take /THE LAST DRAG ON/ my remaining emerald grace,
QUESTIONMARK (?) is the most referred to
KEFKA is the northern poet #346 TESTAMENT, JUDGEMENT, DELIVERENCE
BAST is bound feline goddess