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

It smells like loneliness outside.
The smell of a hot dog on a grill after a storm,
mingled with propane and cigarettes.
The smell of solitary.

A string of “cold and broken hallelujahs”
no longer dulls the senses.
It’s senseless anyway.

I eat my brown rice in front of the sink
and I am reminded of the taste of Play-Doh.
It’s funny how loneliness creeps in on the wind,
the cars’ wheels in the rain,
the braking of the bus,
scuttling of squirrels...

Maybe a hot tea or toddy
(maybe something stronger)
will keep this autumn-ness at bay.

She loved the mesh of hair over her eyes.

My hair is all messed up, she smiled
I'm enmeshed in love, she kept smiling.

The winds rushed past
piercing her with kisses.

There goes the girl
the sky parted the clouds to see
her cheeks are sunset blush.

The birds hovered low over her.

They cackled and the air rippled.

The engine in awed silence
felt her weight.

Oh she weighs so low
light with the burden of love.

Over the bridge and down the highway
she melted in the crisp autumn glow
and he would never know
behind him she rose and fell
in that only once ride
with him.

Oh beautiful Jasmines
Tell the sky that the sea doesn't
want any fish
The moon plays with the sun
My red cheeks drawing the
Eglantines leaves

یاسمن های زیبا
به آسمان بگویید
دریا دیگر ماهی نمی خواهد
ماه با خورشید بازی می کند
لپ های سرخ من
برگ های گل نسترن را نقاشی می کشد

The poetry of motion
Rotating light
Changing tides
Birds in flight, floating, diving, calling
Endless stars when the sky is right
Redsky clouds at dawn
and in the night
Cedar ridgeline
Across the bay.

The poetry of motion
Changing emotions
The waters are never silent
the poetry of motion
Allows the restless soul to rest.

One day a poet looked up to the sky and wondered...
How come we can't add letters to the alphabet?
She pondered the question asking for an  answer
from moon adrift in night sky.

The answer came swiftly. “So you wish to add a letter? Why not a whole language, as the present alphabet used has been molded with cement for minds not use to feeling by ancestors and it could use adjustments. Besides, if you just choose a letter or two unless those reader is awake to feel their meanings, it would not be understood defeating languages purpose." It said sending rays of light in breeze to hug giving poet encouragement.

With a breath an entire language emerged from the woman poet, letter for letter, sound to sound. When done she smiled, feeling the freedom of a spoken language consecrating her tittle of a true creative poetess. It was a language of love brewing in her for ages and now was free like her beating heart.

TO READ ON would mean you would have to read from heart feeling the scripted poem.
IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO, just stop here and consider this just a fairytale.

Jalatra la love
Eamatra lastene a lonaing
letterina lo l a latea
Jalantra la love lo uquara la iva
love le love
lee lay


StarBG © 2017