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 Jan 2018
Alexis
The moon
She speaks to me
She whispers songs of strength, love, loss and grief
Each time we meet I grow a little stronger
A little wilder
A little closer to me
 Jan 2018
yellow-thoughts
how you ever seen moon shining so bright
that it seem like, it's smiling?

i think it's smiling all the time
but we see it, only the times it's the brightest

because we don't notice the ordinary
..
so don't be ordinary/ normal, be your self..
 Dec 2017
Tanisha Jackland
Sit there and watch
the power of the moon
feel how you are moved
by Her
your blood at her mercy
Watch the tides and learn
to surface when it is safe
enough to breathe  
wax with Her
and wane with Her
learn to swim with the
mutable tides
of your existence
navigate these hours
by Her
then see the bounty
of the moon spill into your life
"The moon is a loyal companion." -Mafi
 Dec 2017
r
Night, that cheating wife
of the Sun pulls on
her black *******

the ones with a thong
and glittering sequins
that stll lets the moon shine
singing his silent love song

until dawn comes around
and she slides off her dark
stockings from each leg

slowly one by one
before her husband awakes
and asks her to break
him a golden egg

for breakfast, over easy
my sweet woman
and let the yolk run.
 Dec 2017
jessiah
I don't think she was capable of love.

Just fits of lust; I was worshipped like the moon
and forgotten on a cloudy night.

Some might question the appeal, or
lack the fortitude for being discarded

But not every man can claim being a moon god.
perhaps a mirage is a dangling carrot
to keep us ever-seeking

perhaps our bodies are the freedom clothes
for our souls

and perhaps our sanity,
isn’t

sane at all
but a fata morgana

science has proven
the moon to be a

bell ---
hollow and resonant

for hours ---
a seismic anomaly

which sounds
when hit

perhaps science
is the fata morgana

and we are sane
after all


c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater
 Dec 2017
Julia
stiffen
listen
moon beams glisten
bright blue beats
whistle mist in
swiftly sweeping heat

sweet sighs escape
tufts of dissipating hate
ice twinkled
spice sprinkled
pumpkin pies on plates
lakes glazed with skate scrapes

dusty bins clumped clumsily
comfort uncovered
memories rediscovered
two gloved lovers hovered
behind the bog’s fog
star song
symphony of doves
slipping into silence
 Nov 2017
harlon rivers
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
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