Dark Poetry
Poems by Marc Carver and Donna Dallas
 By Marc Carver

As I drive up the road
I see a man on a flat roof
he is like one of those Gormley statures.
He is perfectly still
as he looks out into the distance he does not move at all
could almost be dead
it is like he is looking at this land for the first time
it never existed before he got up on that roof
and now he doesn't want to come down
he is turned to stone
When I drive past later
I will see if he is still there looking for something that he will never find.
To read other short stories,
click one of the titles below.
About Marc Carver

Marc Carver has published
some ten collections of poetry
and over three thousand on the
net but all he really hopes is that
people find something true in
his poems.
About Donna Dallas

Donna Dallas studied creative
writing and philosophy at NYU.  
She has most recently has
appeared in Red Fez,
Anti-Herion Chic, The Opiate and
several other publications. Her
recent novel, Death Sisters,
published by Alien Buddha
Press, has just hit the market.
Donna serves on the editorial
team of Red Fez.  
Suicide Daisies
 By Donna Dallas

There’s an endless swoosh swoosh from
the water that floats
and endlessly
Is it death…….?
or just
that dream
I feel slight tremors
a little quake in my heart
a death somewhere in my brewing body
not complete
yet I sill float
I’m Godiva on a golden pool
of liquid light
that shimmers under my eyelids
don’t want to wake yet
I love this life so
when did I say I didn’t?
Now I lay myself down
allow you to walk all over my
because I am dead
by my own decree
yet the want of a
lights me up
while the golden pond
endlessly in the corners
of my
The Architect
 By Marc Carver

There is no feeling
like the feeling you get when you wake up at four in the morning
and know you are the only one alive
the deadness
the stillness
you could almost be dead yourself and not know it.
You start to think with a clarity that has alluded you your whole life
no doubts
nothing to hold you back
and suddenly you want to build
brick after brick those words that speak out from the darkness
tell stories that no one will ever hear
but they shout out of the silence like alarm bells warn the sailors of the rocks that lurk underneath.
So you piece them together
and you know you are making something you don't know or need to know what it is you only find out when
you finish
then you can stand back and see what it is
as if you knew before you started
then you look and know and see what it is
and for once you know what it is
Just One More
 By Marc Carver

I think about whether I should put this out into the world
just one more just one more.
Even if I only send it to one person
just one more just one more.
So people can see that I am an artist, I can create still
just one more just one more
but I have given up on the world
just one more just one more.
The stillness that gives me this bed is the only thing I want
Just one more just one more
So if I hit send or not the chances are the world will not see it
but no one will lose much sleep for me
so for the last time the very last time one more time
Decrepit Lovers
  By Donna Dallas

can your wretched throat still gurgle
with sound can you spill out
something meaningful for Christ sake something human
not animal sounds                  not a cry or a howl……
I lay dead under that moat and listened to the moans
of your chains dropping down onto the bridge of a nowhere town what felt like
a thousand years ago           I waited there yearning………..the blood
red moon was stuck above my head
it was on me and I glowed red
the white bat -- a small albino bat -- flapped against my ear
and it wanted my soul -- some have blackened souls some red
like the blood moon  
I wanted to see
if I had a soul -- or a lack there of
hit me now make me feel human again
you can pull my soul out from my throat the way I taught
you when we lay dead
under that moat and mud was caked around our eyes
pinkish blood dripped from our lips and we bed
down in the earth to pass time
from flesh to blood
to vapor
 By Marc Carver

I believed in life once
gave it all up and my luck held as I ran down the rabbit hole
took the blue pill instead of the red.
I even found what I was looking for and can still see it now
from time to time
but I feel different,
it wasn't exactly what I thought it was going to be
and as you spiral down and down
you see that although you had to go
and now you are close to the bottom
you see the fall was too great
the cost too much
but one way or another we all pay
pay for who we are.
 By Marc Carver

It is the test that I just can't solve
like a man trying  to finish a Rubik's cube with no hands,
It is unsolvable
just when you think you understand something
it turns out you really knew nothing at all
so why do people go on
wailing and thrashing through time
the faster they go the faster time goes and then
bang it is finished and you lay there waiting for the death breathe to come
in fear for what you have never seen
at least most people haven't
how could they
they are too busy
making money
selling product
they don't sit down and try and solve what it is they are really doing
they don't have faith that the wind can take you where you need to be to go
only then will you see like me that it cannot be solved but it can be what it is meant to be
Night is a Whore
 By Donna Dallas

Splattered stars
Angels on horses
I feel them so close their hearts beat into my very own
Mist rises into foamy fog
They come for me
I run through the garden
It becomes Eden
Lose my way
Fog behind me
All I see is a faint hint of day
Something roars above me
I see an apocalypse in the opening twilight
Naked and dirty
My feet are blackened and callused from running
Away and out
Of time
The hideous moon smiles cynically
For poems from Marc Carver
and Donna Dallas,
click here

For poems from Meg Smith,
John Grey and J.P. Shields,
click here

For poems from Kelonie Utley
and Judson Michael Agla,
click here