like a moth to the light.
Ashley Somebody

I fell for you
like a moth to the light.

Moths die.
#fallen   #10w   #light   #moth   #fellforyou  
Moth, moth... can you stand still?
Katzenberg

I saw you fallen in front of me
motionless and in grief
your only hope has faded
your little life is diminished.

For a split second I see
a tiny flap of wings
clumsy and weak
I hear your voice within me.

"Is it all you can do for me?"
"Why are you taking me?"
"You got a light?"
"Your hands are so warm..."


Moth, moth... can you stand still?
there is no light in here
Moth, moth... do you ever sleep?
live one day and forever be.

(I know nothing about poetry,  just write what and how it comes to my mind,  hope you like my debut in here.)
#poem   #original   #new   #writer   #moth  
brown moth
A Mareship

this dust-rolled
brown moth
is
patterned
with a band of white
to stand for winter,
when it was just a flimsy bundle
of gristle and sticks

and all the boys in the summertime are sticky and
unclean
like the mouths of dogs -
pink where the sun can't lick

the backs of their necks are baked red brick

girls wear bronzer
piled on thick.

#sun   #summer   #boys   #girls   #moth  
A moth is dancing at the only
Lawrence Wentzz

Hang me up to dry
Killers in our summer clothes.
A moth is dancing at the only
lightbulb in the dark.
I’m moving stoned,
looking at the white of your eyes.
You woke me up too many times.
Now I don’t sleep anymore
and I think only at freedom
but I follow just the moth.
There’s nothing to do here;
I am only happy in bed,
in the bed of your mind.
Everywhere else i’ll die in mistery.
But tomorrow is to die,
today is to live,
to let your heart
enjoy the moth.

#love   #death   #end   #mad   #beginning   #moth  
Eleni Anne Kennard
Eleni Anne Kennard
Jul 10      Jul 10

Your hand rests limply
Across my waist
A cacophony of thoughts
Our hearts beat at different rates

We search for the light
Like dusty moths
Floating broken
And drifting off

On top of the sheets
Listening to the world outside
I traced the features of your face
With my rough fingertips

We gravitate towards happiness
And do what's in our power
To find the light that never goes out
The light inside each other

It is late and I've been dreaming
So the string of thoughts is tangled
But I think from now on I'll keep
A lighter beside my candle.

Dot
Dot
2 days ago

With dusty wings
and awkward flight
Your tiny buffalo body
bounces on the
delicate glass surface.
An exaggerated shadow
announces your plight.
Is it the beauty of
the butterfly
that spurs you.
Why so frustrated;
so persistent?
Do you know of emotion?
Maybe you do,
and it is your own
dark turmoil
that draws you to the
glass skirted flame.

#pain   #dark   #butterfly   #hard   #you   #wings   #glass   #flame   #draw   #moth  
a little moth against a lamp,
Silvia Glass

Somewhere in the rain between the falling,
somewhere in the strain of all the years,
little winged noises always calling,
little winged things that have no fears.

And in the evening light there see
a little moth against a lamp,
beating dusty wings as if to say
“I know I am, I know I am.”

Mother cries a name onto the driveway–
you should know it’s yours, you should respond.
You should turn your heels into the doorway–
night may take you ‘way if you’re too long.

Oh little moth out on your wing,
you hold some pieces of a dream
all wrapped in dust and other things
I’ve always tried so hard to be.

Won’t you beat there on a little longer;
I will someday make you bright new wings!
Of feathers, jewels, and blood like birds and angels
‘stead of those weak papery old things.

Oh little moth out on your wing,
you hold some pieces of a dream
all wrapped in dust and other things
I’ve always tried so hard to be.

Someone always says the mind’s a garden,
someone always talks of things that bloom,
but mine’s always been full of little moths and
little things that push beneath the moon.

And in the evening light there see
a little moth against a lamp,
beating dusty wings as if to say
“I know I am, I know I am.”

And in the evening light there see
a little moth against a lamp,
beating tattered wings as if to say
“This I have, this much I have.”

a song
#dreams   #hopes   #childhood   #moth  
My little brown moth
Mikaelyn White

Little ringlets of soft black hair
A pair of eyes so soft
I saw myself in her today
Until she flew
My little brown moth

Sometimes I reach my hands out far and feel her in the breeze
The trees bow down in solemn
For she is so far from me
Until up with a gust

She blows off..

Two tiny hands held strong
A gentle heart so warm (so soft!)
I saw myself in her today
Until she flew
My little brown moth

#memories   #longing   #flight   #moth  
And such as a moth
Zara Noury

I come from darkness
And such as a moth
Beating itself
To death
Against a flame,
In your arms, I burn
Just the same.


F.Z.N

#die   #darkness   #burn   #same   #beating   #flame   #arms   #moth  
captured a little lost lady moth
Jacquelyn Lowe

The man of many talents
talked nothing but of himself...
and never stopped to Listen
or gain true conversational wealth
cloaked in flamboyent colors
his butterfly wings so huge,
captured a little lost lady moth
(looking for the moon)
and kept her as his muse

just as the wings of the butterfly
so was the moths heart large
and so she inspired her captor unconditionally..
and loved freely, fanning him...
& flapping her wings too hard...
each time they would tear ,
she'd ignore the searing pain
for with all of her inner beauty;
by no means was she vain

the butterfly misused his muse
did not reciprocate emotion
so her wings drooping stupidly
with blind devotion
were as lost shadowed in his coloring
as before.......
searching for the light of moon in black ocean

he had never saved her from the vast
sky-sea & empty Galaxy
But used her flutter as a tool
to satisfy his selfish artistic needs

the little lost moth lost flight
As she began to understand
the light butterfly provided
was a stage light made by man

all the time she lost
robbed her spirit and stole her grace
so she rubbed the powder off his big bright wings and thought
-what good is his outward beauty now that he can no longer soar in space-
Disenchanted but free at last
moth tries but can never trust color
won't inspire art or music
and will never love another.....

#poem   #poet   #moon   #butterfly   #muse   #innocent   #moth   #painter   #firstlove  
 
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