Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
As he gazed on my face
I saw waves of emotion
rise and crash
in his deep almond eyes
and I became a river
hurtling down to join
the mighty current

When he whispered to me
honeyed words of passion
in the enormity of silence
I blossomed
into
a red tulip of love

As he played on the strings
of my heart’s violin
I got tuned
into an alluring symphony

When he held my palms
I evolved into
a beautiful painting
on a blank canvas

When he cupped my face
to stamp on my lips
the seal of love
I became
a flitting butterfly

When he lifted me up
in his arms
all the stars came down
to see the spark in my eyes
wondering if it outdid
their combined lustre
 Nov 2017 Katelyn Billat
Star BG
In trance I melt into a scene.
A fantasy of my own creation.

Mysteries unfold
in visions of younger days,
where I as a child moved freely
on fields of Mother Earth.
Where I moved in my own world few understood.

Light energies gather,
as I hues of color
red, blue, green, even black.
They cover me like blanket
integrating into cells
speaking in silent rhythms that float into mind.
They awaken me to hear divine sounds.

And as I sing in gratitude my
open heart creates
songs to dance.
Dance
in a realm just a thought away.
 Nov 2017 Katelyn Billat
Crystal
.
 Nov 2017 Katelyn Billat
Crystal
.
There's something beautifully human
about finding whats lovely and keeping it close
for as long as possible.
The time comes,
When we have to say goodbye
To those who brought light to our lives
Smiles to our faces,
And forged jeweled memories in our minds.
The time will come,
When we love our memories of them,
More so than their presence,
And the smiles they give us are few and far between.
It is alright,
To say our goodbyes,
And to part ways,
Cherishing the moments we had
When we were people- hardly recognizable to us now.
We have picked our own paths.
Yet, their light may still guide us,
The light they left behind in us,
Coddled within.
A discussion under the midnight sky, walking to pick pawpaws.
An ending is usually sad.
The fact that something shall
no longer exist is just very sad.

But, when our loud three year
friendship ended quietly like it
was smothered with a pillow.

I was sad yes, but I was also relieved.
No more worrying no more heartache
from you.

I love you I always will
I will respect you if you need a pencil
I will not hesitate

and if heaven forbid
you need someone to talk you down from
the ledge then I'll be there.

But if you need someone to sit
with at lunch do not look for me,
look for your other friends.

There is a hole where you used to be
that doesn't need to be filled.
I'm content with who I have.

I may miss you but that doesn't mean
I want you here. Good luck to you
and I hope you had as much fun as I did
being a poet in love
means writing down
every single emotion
you’ve ever felt on to paper

it means turning simple things
about a person into
deep details that only
you would notice

such as when the one you
love simply smiles at you
that could turn into
“his mouth turned upward into
a small smile upon his cheeks
making my stomach erupt
into tiny butterflies”

it means writing every single
interaction you’ve had with that
person and turning it into something
poetic and beautiful even if it’s as
simple as a smile

it means letting your heart
do the writing for you as the
emotions pour out of your mind

but it also means heartbreak
lots and lots of heartbreak
having your heartbroken
even helps poets write about
being in love

it’s hard being a poet in love
because we can never find
someone who truly wants
to be written about
wrote this for a contest enjoy
Maybe it's been written
somewhere in the constitution
     of the waning moon

                                         ― When somebody loves you,
                                               you can never be lonely ―

But, appearances
  to the contrary,
the moon is sometimes blue;

counting stars alone
in a sky full of stars

is just about as lonely
as 'once in a blue moon'
                              can be ―

Like when the night is yours alone
                  or feeling alone
               in a crowded room

hearing Hank Williams moan within your silence
       "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"

                                         ― When it's hard to say
                                               you love someone,..
                                               but it's harder to say
                                               when you don't ―

                • • •

A coyote's pleading howl
breaks the silent twilight engulfing trance
cast by the dappled moonlight;
like there's some kind of lonely madness
    swallowing him whole,..

                     as
    these two hollow eyes
                 gaze out through
                                     the chilly,
                                            sobering
                                                 refreshed
                                                   Autumn air
                                                             ­    spilling
                                                                ­  in through
                                                            the open window,

                                                        ­           counting stars ― alone
                                                           ­             in a sky full of stars


                                                       ­             the crackle of the fireplace
                                                       ­            echoes, startling the silence
                                                         ­                of a feigned warmth
                                                                ­          from the other side
                                                                ­ of an otherwise hollow room

and i feel frayed as a hole in an empty pocket with nothing left to lose

the impending dark winter nights are lonesome
            and  linger longer than before ...
  
seeing the empty space beside me
   I remember how it really really aches to just be ...

                                                            *­lonesome as a blue moon ― *

                   ✩                        ✩                                       ­ 
                ✩                                       ✩                           
✩          ­                                                      ✩
         ­                                                                 ­                                

moonless ― rivers ... 2017


Lonesome as a Blue Moon
Written by:  h.a. rivers
If not to touch the earth
and know your sun kissed skin,
if not to chase your shadow
through every place you've been.

If not to stand on mountains,
howling from the peaks,
if not to lie in fields
as melodic whispers weep.

If not to dance in forests
where tangled roots take hold,
if not to bathe in oceans
while eternities unfold.

If not to touch the earth,
upon me you would shine
and for that fleeting moment
I could call you mine.
Dedicated to a very special friend of mine who comes on here often hoping that I have posted something, no matter how long I have been absent. I hope that this will brighten your day.
Next page