Poetry Blogs (moon)

It's 2019 17th of June
tonight we shall welcome this strawberry moon
As we worship your brightness and magical
beams
we manifest beauty and our purest of dreams
heal were needs healing and deep cleanse my
being
As you do I aknowledge my soul you are freeing
keep me strong in my darkest hour
from highest love frequencies fill me with power
miracles you grant me
blessings and light
heal ...

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In evening light at still of day

Shadows are sweeping time away.

A man through his window sees it all,

The fading blue, the shadow fall.

At the upper edge of vision

Perfect pearl, divine precision.

As hidden jewel in tapestry,

Shines the orb through the trees.

Two thirds round, white edged, sharp and clean.

The last third blurs into the unseen.

Precise imper...

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Nancy comes in my dreams 

Like a fairy of Disney Land 

Have two wings and song 

Touch hearts with no band 

Nancy comes from the moon 

Where the lovely stars shining 

Calls me to join the song 

And to share her in the dancing 

Nancy, I love you so much 

Can you call me only once? 

Don't keep me in dreams 

Just come in real to dance 
 

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Super Snow Moon tell us 

the secrets you keep 

when you orbit earth 

as we sleep.

Tell us it is 

an optical illusion 

adding to our mass confusion.
 

Tell us of war and peace,

famine and feast.

Tell us please... 

How are we so different 

when it's the same moon we see?

Oh Supermoon, how we hunger for 

your guiding light from above 

to fill us with w...

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Let me move to a new place,
Where none knows my name,
And I know they will  start judging,
As Everyone is just the same.
But till then ,
Let me find a new love, 
New memories to let go my pain,
You can take my hand,
And please ask me to dance in the rain.
I know our love would break,
Just like all other affairs I had,
Some would say I had no brains, 
And I am the reason you are sad,
B...

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In the pale moonglow when I awoke

somehow shadows seemed the darker

as mantling the land, that soft white cloak

of crystal shine leaves them starker

What cold mystic spell holds fast my hand

what eerie charm doth my fate seal

in darkling night whence daylight is banned

with what ice maid have I to kneel

As my eyes take in my ghost white bride

one last iced tear...

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He is the blue earth
Awed;
But with oceans too deep to explore

I am his sun
Scortched;
But he needs the warmth of my core to survive
- To thrive

I chase him right round infinitely 
Indefinitely 
For he will only let my light shine
Half of the time 

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At dusk

a pink moon

low over the sheds

in a cold clear sky -

ice blue, yet light

hiding stars

a leaf fall

the pond water stills

but does not freeze

Much later

that same moon

lights my bedroom

in the cold night air -

velvet black, the sky

glints stars

an owl flash

my blood chills

but does not freeze

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Getting acquainted with the moon 
behind glass
we exchange so many glances
and on my back
a thousand heart-attacks roll past
My fingers beside, cross and uncross
as you sleep, so black
back in the real world
paid up entirely
on your subscription
to actual reality

O would you bring me a souvenir
from the envious depths of endless peace
perhaps a child or a patient nurse
or some cont...

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Moon, 
Oh moon.
I see you flutter by, Moon. 
Your wax'ned wanings fill the sky, Moon.
I, you and I, moon. You and I.
I, not you will fall behind, Moon.
With no trumpet cry, no orisons, Moon.
No. No words can make Moon cry. You and I 
Will dip into solitude,
We'll find the words our mothers used 
For love and die. Oh, Moon.
The bringing smiles of love, Moon.
And the ‘wait awhiles' of lo...

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Last night the moon

orange sickle bright

seemed too large, low

hung over hedges

briefly eclipsed

by passing trees

dimmed by

closer light yet

always the lit

rondure

discovered

its umbral orb

to me -

I was driving

in the moondark

night

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For serious

ever seen such bouncing globes of translucent cream

that make the mind spit and spin Catherine wheel style!

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Shining,
As it is always been
Glowing,
For the world to see
Crystal ball,
I have been admiring
In the light,
Paths are shown..

Standing,
The king looks old
Rays of light,
Passing through him
Adorning,
Crown he's been gifted
In the light,
Paths are shown..

Dark clouds,
Cover the light
The winds,
Push them away
Sliver of light,
Comes blazing again
In the light,
Paths are shown...

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waking

in their bed

beneath the slates  

waking

as in a dream

slowly aware

waking

completely

waking

in the window airs

waking

in the hush

of the night

palely lit by her lucent light

the night

calls to him

and he walks out

the night

absorbs him

summer dew wet on his feet

her cool breath on his naked flesh

the quiet mysterious night

s...

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loch

she was late, the moon;

knew that I would wait,

by the water, hoping.

life drunk, she staggers;

flirting with morning;

greedy for tomorrow.

night after night, weary.

high, broke and barefoot;

she holds me; dancing.

we leave corpses,

fears like broken moths,

rumours remaining.

we rest by the loch;

she brings stories,

long br...

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The mirror speaks a truth that you don't want to hear
What makes you so afraid is right there and it's so clear
That anyone but you would run away and scream
But no, you choose to stay and bathe in your darkest dream.

There is no light or rainbows or things you'd like to share,
Just you...in your naked costume, parading under moon's glare.
You twitch and turn and the sides are all the same...

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sighing gaze, relief
up in the sky, floating high
a day's toil and turmoil
now swallowed up, entire
each breath smooth and free
there's even not enough moon
for it to really be blue

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For Gwen, Anne and Eryl

In that happy heady grass-green Spring of my years

A time of lambent lamb slow lamb full days around a whited cottage

Lent us space and ease beneath the sun long sky

Golden glorious hours together in a single thought

With close chicken scrape and distant herd

When the swallows dipped to the fly buzz

When the kite climbed to a gliding speck

     ...

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The rustle of the leaves in the air so dark

The black color of the autumn falls

The whistle of the wind, cool and covert

The striking chill, or lack thereof

The brightness of the moon that shines dull

The freshness of the invigorating air

The comeliness of the sky in bloom

The absence of invalid existence

The want for peace and quietude

The calmness and almost everlastin...

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Cowaramup is a small farming and tourist community in the Margaret River wine region of South-West Western Australia. My visit long ago remains an unsettling memory of alienation.

Moon Pool

The blue-black raven night

draws opal-scented folds

from quicksilver sparkle, scattered

like smashed glass over meeting grounds.

So it is, at this paddock fence

beside the scoop o...

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In the long small hours of dark                 Through the later time of darkness

I pause and gaze out at the stars              As we lay entwined beneath the moon

Somehow the frosted ground                    The nightly scene now sacred

Sharpens the air and the starlight             Welcomes the soft moonglow

Which lights my very soul:                        Entering both...

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When, at the end of a complicated season

of argument and negotiation

I check, and find that the moon is dark.

And will soon be new,

I consider the things undone

That will not now be done

And the things unexplained

Which will leave large pools of dissatisfaction

And I breathe out, out, emptying the air

From my lungs, and the worries

From my head; letting it a...

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Going to die if I can't write
the moon is falling falling 
out the sky time is blind 
the night flies by, 
wind screams sin, 
a howling white oblivion 

time time time 
ticks ticks ticks 
tick tock 
tick tock
dust to rock to dust 
drops 
partial particles 
squared and triangled
falling fearless 
into the blue 
I follow the rainbow 

rabbit skips 
the echo drips 
upside down 
the ...

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The sky has now faded from view

Now the only light left is from you

Sometimes I feel afraid at night

but then your glow makes me feel alright

The energy that makes me feel delight

This energy releases me from the monotonous daylight responsibilities

It allows me to be me and to fully embrace everything that I see

The tense person I was an hour ago has left and now I am ...

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As I look at the moon tonight.
It is full and bright 
blue illuminates through 
my mind, stars align.
I am fine.

Lately, 
I've been burning up inside
my twisted demise,
my dystopia.
Tunnel vision, 
lost my mission, 
lost my way, 
lost my vision. 

Each night I sit with silence, 
enveloped in despair.
Constrained,
penning lines in my mind, 
I fail to keep, 
losing too much sleep. 

...

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It's time for bed,
the walrus said;
and so it is as now.
It's time for bed,
and so my head
is ready for the bow.
But words still gait
upon the wilt
of never and the row.
And gone are they
that hope and pray
for ever and for thou.

It's time for bed
the moon has said;
yet ever in her tide,
the moon is dead
and night has fled,
and dawn is by her side.
So wilt the sky,
in blossom ...

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Each night I fall in love all over again

With this world, this life, the things around me.

The darkness is inviting, I find comfort in its depths. 

Many fear what the night holds, but I spend each day looking forward to the night.

Finally alone, able to strip myself of this worldly mess.

I am myself in the evening,

I come alive in the night.

The sun reveals too much, too many ...

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The shadows of smudges showing through

Poised over the earth to correct the simplest of mistakes

Balanced perfectly above a tiny peak

my moon

Frantically Orbiting all of existence

Waiting to smear words without resistance

Blank, it waits to pull restraints

Exhaling the tides

my moon

Ridding the lies the sea portrays

Constantly drifting away

Longing to erase what I ...

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I think that I was born on the moon.

But it was never ‘written in the stars’,

No,

I think that when I landed here on earth,

My voice was left behind

Because you can’t hear me.

When I talk,

You can’t hear me,

You look up to God for answers...

And you kiss me like your investigating the saliva for my heritage,

You go inside me like your searching for my identity,

Bec...

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Is the moon blue?

It turns its pale face to us;

Who knows whom its thoughts turn to.

It cannot cry, but only sigh in dust,

With no light of its own. Gasps thinly,

Too insubstantial for decay or rust.

Does it have unspoken sorrow of its own?

So it can only appear at night

And sometimes disappear, all alone,

And find solace in the dark unknown.

The sun burns away its ra...

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         Resounding across oceans
            Hovering amongst clouds
         Like a whisper from the moon
                 I heard your words
                   And I thank you
                        From the
                      Deepness of
                             My
                        Existence 

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Strawberry sun
Rising in the summer bliss
Kissing the world good morning.

I feel your sweet light
Covering over me
Like a warm blanket.

Standing there in the baby blue sky
With your magnificent glow on display
And I'm trying to figure a way to reach you.

Do I need to use a ladder
Or a cotten candy airplane
Or how about a purple magic carpet?

Oh marshmallow moon
Please come out tonight
...

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A twisted oak coiled round its self the perfect home for a mouse.

He climbed up a twisted branch and made his peace there, he built a nest of twine in the hollow center.

twine woven in brade, ants climbing up in parade. the army came to a hault and flead, they

feared for their lives and would rarther not be dead.

the stars a gemstone, the moon an ivory marble in a get jar.

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On a hot summers eve close to the twighlight,

the marble of crimson came rolling down past sight.

Misty clouds coating the ever changing sky.

birds whistle their last tune before slumber calls them.

Stars begin to light.

Soon it will be night.

Close to the twighlight.

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October-7-1997
Trisha M. Hopkins

{I}
Waiting for him, sitting in the car
Under the erie moonlight
Imagening what he'll do 
Seing him in the distance, Seeing him in the night
His mind shouting "I'm going to get you!"

{II}
He sees himself going after the man
He sees himself dragging him, dragging, dragging
Tying the man up
Everything is so dim
Under the erie moonlight

{III}
Torching him almos...

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I never feel amiss, alone or as a stranger

On days when wandering amongst the trees,

When standing on the hilltop overlooking land of bountiful existence

Or looking at the life’s reflections in blue waters of the sea.

I never know rage, hate or urge of violence

At twilight times when rolling in the silky grass,

When sitting on the tree log by the brook watching appearance of...

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The Moon feels naught in futile circling

far off in bland acceptance of our plight;

while in that feeble light we half-blind stray

to situations shunned in light of day.

Her beams afford us sight attenuate

allowing indiscretions - thought and deed

and poets then, that cold dead orb invest

with subtle attributes no whit possessed.

As folly nightl...

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I am a coiled spring

in the celestial timepiece,

of the earth, the sun, the moon.

I am a servant of your rotation.

In a silent sky, black as onyx,

I sleep in peace,

but as the clock strikes full moon,

I ache with the restlessness

of a tortured man.

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A full moon, and the tide swollen by rain;

Rain lashing on the window, wild as rage -

My pen is stirring on the unspoilt page

In scribble circles, feeling round this pain.

Like tunnels leading deeper than my mind,

Or ropes in hopeless tangles, loosely curled,

Sprawling intestines looped around the world

My pen describes; this pain is ill-defined.

The ...

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When I look at the sky,

Is she looking too.

When I weep alone,

Is she weeping too.

She grows in beauty every day,

But I am growing too.

She grows in my heart every day,

I miss you.

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Written on June 1st 2011 as an assignment based on the Calendar, set by John Cassidy for Bank Street Writers, Bolton.

O God of Sun, on Sunnandaeg,

I worship thee with spray -on bronze,

Because thy workload is quite big,

There’ll be a lot of wet week-ends.

God of the Moon, on Monandaeg,

I offer thee my hangover,

Last night I was a lunatic,

Oh I am deep...

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`



A winsome voice rose
into the unlit sky
its fingers harped
unwakened dreams

A bare vignette lurched
into the shadows
its claws scraped
unshoed expeditions

An arm is raised high
blurry stars in witness
its blood testifies
unquieted aspirations

A voice rose to the Night.
and formed a melody
its waiting days expired
unsought gem wanes.




`

Please make your res...

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There was a stone in the lake

And the moon in my hand

There was a stone in my hand

And the moon in the lake

I threw the stone and it became the moon

as it solidified in the water's space

Its mirror a world of twisting creatures,

all skin and fin; water bodies

I threw the moon and it became a stone

A pitted rough hewn chunk

as real as touch, its pres...

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Once-upon-a-time, a barman worshipped the Sun.

Worked nights so didn’t see much of it

but in his head he’d got stories of

the Fire God supreme,

Blaze Lord,

vanquishing monsters who'd eat out your dreams.

He called the Sun ‘Hero’,

believed it had six pairs of arms,

giant wings of flame

and the handsomest nose in the galaxy.

Made moons blush

and g...

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Any town

This town was built from flint and clay

from the iron age and the God's malaise.

This Earth leaves tints of iron and bronze.

Seas, and shells, parchment gone.

This nation holds its mark on time,

not short of the sublime

mixtures of faiths and cultures,

landmarks from other timezones.

The shape of the stars

and the arc of the moon

suggest a covenant with us...

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