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Explore the beauty of Dark Poetry

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Words surely must be the most beautiful form of expression. Put them together and you will have a message delivered in an undeniably beautiful way. It is however not just bliss but mind blowing and heartfelt emotions put on display. That is what makes literture a beautiful thing. I love poetry, but more so dark poems. There is this unique way dark poetry portrays the pain, distress, and anguish we’ve all ever experienced.

Dark Poetry is majorly used as a channel of emotions. It expresses what a poet feels, loves and fears. What makes it magical is that a poem can mean anything according to the person reading it. Reading  poetry can bring us multiple feelings like joy, fear, pain or disdain. Understanding the true meaning of poetry however allows us to connect, relate and find meaning in our personal experiences.

Nevertheless, poetry is always evolving. The beauty in poetry is how unique and diverse it is. Plus the countless interpretations that can come out of it, based on the audience. So, if you are an ardent lover of dark poetry, I bring you one of the latest dark poems I have created. In this poem, we will explore the feelings and mischiefs relayed in each line. Here we go with our dark poem “Undignified.”

UNDIGNIFIED

Tic tock tic tock…
The shadow of my ghosts looks up at me
Tic tock.. tic tock…
My own fears and bruises mirrored in it’s eyes.
Tic tock,
It warns me that I’m in for a long ride,
Telling me that I am not ready to face my past, my recent agonizing past.
Tic tock..
I am trembling with fear as I crumble before it..
All my insignificances  and insecurities are embedded in a body so tiny, 
With eyes so innocent.
Tic tock..
I watch with fear as it twists it’s  lips in what looks like a smile.
It is that smile, that smile of mockery I could swear he wore the same smile..
Mother has given it a name,
Gabriella!
She tells me it is just an offspring,
One that the Universe and so called heavens did bring.
To me, it is nothing but a sin..
A remembrance of my shame, a mirror of my disdain..
Gabriella huh?
A name so fancy, but it makes me so antsy.
Gabriella looks deep into my eyes like she could read my soul
Like she sees the hatred I have for her seeping through my pores,
But how can I help it? 
Just one look at her makes my hairs stand on end in fear and disgust
Gabriella,
My source of anger and depression,
Ella,
The never healing, constantly rotting wound.
Gabriella,
A name I loath but listen to everyday like a nursery rhyme.
Imagine my torture when Mama says she looks like my dad…
How can I face her and say,
He touched me in a way he was not supposed to?
How can I  tell her he gagged me and pleasured himself right In front of me,
While I let out desperate muffled cries of shock and terror?
How can I relay the memory of his crooked grin as he violently shook my body with harsh thrusts,
While I pleaded and cried,
“Father, please don’t “….
Can I confess that the reason behind my nightmares,
My tantrums and trances  was my father?
-And of course Gabriella. Good old Ella..
“Our religion does not allow us to murder”
The dangerous seal that put an end to my life..
Now I am stuck with the consequence of an action that was forced on me,
A reminder that I am an undignified failure..
Gabriella.
Would it help if she looked less like the wolf that devoured my innocence?
Well No.. she is still the evidence of what was robbed from me..
Society does not make this any better..
They judge me for being a terrible mother..
MOTHER- I spit out the words as they cut at my heart like a double edged knife…
I did not ask for this.
But how does anyone expect me to be what I did not receive?
A good parent..
Huh Gabriella?
~Leticia Nambaziira ~

Just like one writer, Sherilynn Kenyon once scribbled, “The worst wounds, the deadliest of them, aren’t the ones people see on the outside. They’re the ones that make us bleed internally.”

Sometimes, we find ourselves living through the present but with wounds from the past. This is one of the most important feelings that is explored by Dark Poetry. A past betrayal, a past heartache or a past rejection. In most cases, we fail to talk about it with anyone. This does not mean we don’t trust anyone around us but it simply means we are afraid of letting our wounds show.

It could be because of fear that the wounds could be reopened with every thought of it. So, most people will rely on writing their pain down through dark poetry. So, let’s get a hint about the above dark poem. First of all, it carries deep regret, pain and wounds from an unhealed past. A past that nobody is willing to revisit. It is stuck in the mind of the victim and encrypted on her heart like an ugly scar.

As if the horrid memory is not enough to torture her, there is also a souvenir from such a horrid past, Gabriella. A child meant to be a blessing to its mother but instead has become a source of pain and anger, a piece of evidence from a past that its mother clearly wants to erase from her memory.

“Now I am stuck with the consequence of an action that was forced on me,

A reminder that I am an undignified failure..

Gabriella.”

As a dark poet, I intend to bring your attention to the fact that despite the struggle to forget her agonizing past, one look at Gabriella brings the main character of this dark poem’s entire past flooding back and suffocating her. How can one recover from a wound with the blade still cutting right through them?

“Just one look at her makes my hairs stand on end in fear and disgust

Gabriella,

My source of anger and depression,

Ella,

The never healing, constantly rotting wound.

Gabriella,

A name I loath but listen to everyday like a nursery rhyme.

Imagine my torture when Mama says she looks like my dad…”

From my point of view, it is clear that justice was not served considering that her mother is unaware of the offender. The offender is  a symbol of cruelty and terror. He  should have been a protector, guardian and role model.

“How can I relay the memory of his crooked grin as he violently shook my body with harsh thrusts,

While I pleaded and cried,

“Father, please don’t “….”

I also chose to highlight the pain of the victim masked as hatred. The victim does not hate Gabriella but rather the way she conceived her child. The darkness lies in her heart like a sharp needle.. She masks this pain and disappointment with anger or hatred. An offspring that should have been a source of joy and comfort is nothing but a crooked memory of terror.

“I am trembling with fear as I crumble before it..

All my insignificances and insecurities are embedded in a body so tiny,

With eyes so innocent.”

There is also a hint on the constant role culture plays in the lives of young women. Culture is beautiful and diverse, but the same culture can be repressive and manipulative.  The victim is judged by culture over her inability to perform her motherly tasks. As you can see in our dark poem, Dark poetry visits the other side of the coin where it is not all rosy but rather thorny.

She is blamed for the outcome of an act where the offender was not even blamed for his actions that had this impact on her in the first place and so is the absurdity of life. Culture considers her actions  heartless but does not look to eradicate the cause of her actions but rather judges her for them.

“Society does not make this any better..

They judge me for being a terrible mother..

MOTHER- I spit out the words as they cut at my heart like a double edged knife…

I did not ask for this.

But how does anyone expect me to be what I did not receive?

A good parent..

Huh Gabriella?”

Furthermore, even the religion she would turn to only looks at one side of the coin. The Ten Commandments urge Christians not to murder. The Church however fails to realize that the victim has been murdered repeatedly just by looking at her offspring who is attached to her worst memory. In this case,  the murderer (offender) still roams free.

“Our religion does not allow us to murder”

The dangerous seal that put an end to my life..

Now I am stuck with the consequence of an action that was forced on me,

A reminder that I am an undignified failure..”

As a dark poet, I have found myself facing certain pains myself, fighting certain ghosts that have been hard to keep at bay.

At times, however,, people say we need to learn to live with the bad memories and not give them power over our entire existence. Sometimes, it is okay to fall apart, as long as we will reset and not let the bad memories drag us in the gutters. This is where I got my love for dark poetry. A good dark poem evokes the desire to express what I can not say and the power to address what everyone fears to talk about.

Just like the Rev. Jack Brooks said, “Bad memories are like splinters. Sometimes painful, but you learn to live with them. The problem is, they always work their way to the surface eventually.”

I hope you enjoyed my dark poem style.

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