Moon

Night

Folder: 
Love

Love loves the dark
For only then it is alone with it’s beloved
It’s enchanting melody
Sweetly playing on the breeze
A nocturne of lovers
The music of midnight
When shadows hold no more fear
Where there is no time but right now
No time at all
When lovers can run away
Away from the world
And revolve around each other
Like the moon dances around the earth
So they dance also
The stars shine above for them
For the night belongs to lovers

View seraphim's Full Portfolio

Nox Sacram

Twilights know our name
so speak soft our fame.
they know my shadows sight
of crisp shade and blessed flight.
under star-light shine
to darkness I confide;
for at dawn's first light
we close our sight.

Now stalk the night
and keep to flight.
To preform our rites
and cast our mistress' sight
by bitter blade
and the blood left to fade.

View cxseals1337's Full Portfolio

Bretaña Street

On Bretaña Street, memories like whirlwinds,
twirl about the dust of Autumn’s eve.
There is no one here, except a lonely
Passerby who turns round a corner

and is gone. On Bretaña Street, the rains
are gone as well—there is no water, only
gray asphalt, whirlwinds, and passersby,
who leave no trace of presence here.

Over the rooftops, the crescent moon
unveils her yellow teeth in a dying sky.

I walk the street as I walk through a dream,
oblivious of the present, the windowless
present, with its tedious unleaving of the days.

I walk the street in search of water, but
the stores are closed, and the rains are gone,
leaving only dust, whirlwinds, gray asphalt.

Perhaps tomorrow the rains will come,
a passerby will not turn round a corner,
into someone else’s dream; perhaps

tomorrow, the rains will come again,
the Tree of Life will grow once more,
and reach high into that endless space,

where birds in Summer spread their downy
plumage in the brighter sun of warmer days.

View valhjim's Full Portfolio

A Shard of Moonlight

In common daylight,
Words become opaque baubles,
Corruptible shells,

Cease to ignite—
The Poet, then, must restore
Their lambent brilliance,

Their supernal flame,
Till they sparkle in the night,
Explode in starlight.

In the Poet’s lines,
Old words burn on touch of lips,
Light the world within,

Reclaim their implacable radiance
To show a world in a shard of moonlight.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem combines the haiku form with the fourteen lines of the sonnet--a poetic marriage of Eastern and Western traditions.

View valhjim's Full Portfolio

Waning Crescent: A Poet's Reverie

Tonight the moon is on waning crescent;
it hangs on the eastern sky like a sharp steel
wedge against a backdrop of unlight.

There are no stars in the perimeter, only
a slight cool breeze, the last remnant of winter
cold--nowadays the seasons have lost
their senses, acquired a tendency to drift,

while the moon goes on waxing and waning,
as it has, since she came out of the earth's crust
four point four million years ago.

Tonight I drive my old Ford under the wedge
of the old moon, drifting like the seasons
through half-deserted streets--streets not long
ago fraught with people and traffic and suits.

Out here in the perimeter the grand trees sway
in the cool breath of June, unhurried by design,
moving in slow tempo to the soft cadence

of the night.

Was it like this eons ago when you and I,
in far other guise, roamed the silver valleys
of the moon, whispering like the leaves

under huge skies? with thoughts too strange
to share in this supernal spot of Time, this
conjunction of times, this unfathomable universe?

Perhaps beyond our limited perceptions,
in the night's huge exhalations, other selves,
other lives, connected to our own, take

their being, and return to us on a cool
night like this, when the moon is on waning
crescent, and there are no stars in the perimeter,

just the grand trees, unhurried by design,
all a-sway in the cool soft breeze of June.

--Jim Valero, 03/19/2012.

Huntress Moon i

Folder: 
Wulfman Adventures

The sun still shines
Making the snow a glistening mirror
Blinding, staggering
Yet I paw forward
The strength boiling within me
Rippling my fur in a throaty growl

I chase the facade man, the broken relic
All is useless when I am no longer that persona
Under the Huntress Moon, I trail the hunted prey

Clouds of frosty breath escapes the panting mouth
Eyes bleak, focusing and locking
For the prey is at hand, then a hand touches me

Caressing my shoulder, calming down the wulf rage
In puzzle moment, I look to the left seeing only a ghost
A ghost among a sea of ghost

I am a hunter being haunted, I am full of life
A pulsing heart in the dead world I call the Highway
I am a target, as I march forth after the one prey that matters

View majesticdravon's Full Portfolio

Mother Luna

Folder: 
Wulfman Adventures

The air has an icy veil
Crystals clinging to my hair
Exposed flesh frosty pale

I reach up, stretching to the moon
Asking Mother Luna to bless this child
To caress the wayward child home

Take me by my hand, by night I rise on paws
Mother Luna, please forgive the wayward pup

Now the wanderlust has faded
As the hardships of life, and sands of time
Rub and shape the once crude form

Reaching up caressing the moon
Speaking only the language Mother Luna would understand

The song and dance
Of the Wolf Cycle starting...

View majesticdravon's Full Portfolio

Against the Rushing Tide

Folder: 
Camino

Over the rotting dead, he stood; still holding tight to the .22 rifle. Down on the second death he gazed, still wide eyed, still fueled by adrenaline and fear. Somehow he survived the onslaught of the coming death, and in the field of the maggot flowers, he found himself standing; still alive and breathing under an infected sky; under a moon who's fading light had long abandoned the soul. Alone in the cold silence of midnight, no sound filled the putrid, dank air; no movement clashed against the vast expanse of darkness; nothing but the sound of his heart thrashing madly filled his ears as he looked up toward the sorrow infested face of the moon. In the distance, the silhouette of a long forgotten building reached out to hold him.

View shadow_season's Full Portfolio

The Sun and The Moon

The sun may shine within
Her smile
But the moon may shine within
Her eyes.

The sun may reside in
Her heart
But the moon will reside in
Her soul.

The sun and the moon
May share
Her words
But her meaning
Belongs to the stars.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Comments please :)

View invisibird's Full Portfolio