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David Nelson Mar 2010
Mystic Starfall

I'm all aflame, with this burning love call,

this unearthly queen, Mystic Starfall,

she turns my head, she lifts up my soul,

afraid that her kisses, will take a huge toll,

when you expect most, she fades in the night,

she hides in the darkness, appears in the light,

I need something, something I can hold,

I reach out to touch her, her curtains unfold,

all this time hidden, what a waste, what a crime,

this beautiful maiden, lost beauty in time,

unmasked from behind, her eyes how they shine,

and now they look down, straight into mine,

this incredible beauty, once afraid to appear,

now is most anxious, to show its so clear,

she has been released, the shadows no more,

my Mystic Starfall, a tigress now, a kitten before

Gomer LePoet...
Sahil Suri  Nov 2012
Sahil Suri Nov 2012
Sitting on the edge of the unknown
hand-in-hand staring at the sky
we whisper sweet nothings
and watch the celestial turbulence
for tonight,
even the stars are falling for you
Betty  Sep 2019
Betty Sep 2019
Fate, I do not know your name

Remove the stars

Shake them from the heavens

Like brightest rain

Cover me in a glittered cloth

Of fire and light

Set the night


Remove the dark

And let me be that spark

Which sets the heavens all aflame
Chris Voss Nov 2013
In between sips of skim-milk splashed coffee; in between the sharp, fragmented, ink-drags of pen and indentation of paper and the simple sketch of a fish in a lake [the fish like the hand and the cog, and the lake like piano keys and copper machinery] The Imagist explained to me the conception of music and clockwork.
And the Human Condition.
"Humans," he sketched, "have a very peculiar sense of self - it ends at our skin. Cut off my arms and I'll survive, but sever the air from my lips and... At what point did our limbs become more a part of ourselves than the sky?"
And after a moment of measuring the weight of words, he thought to me, "Man, I don't know why I get myself into this... What made me think I could write a children's book?"

I told him how I wished I could write music. You could read it in my poetry; my metaphors about sheet music and night skies. My yearning to explore worlds that my starfall has never blinked in. And it struck me, bittersweet through the roots of my wisdom teeth, how we can never choose our art. Rather I'll bushwhack through, leaving trails of half-started, stutter-stepped poems, looking for something that sings like guitar strings.

The Imagist and I, we are children of a visual age.
I try to sculpt our twenty-seven minute attention spans through sporadic hand gestures.
He told me about his trip to Montana through drawings of the people he'd met,
from the three friends of friends who were a quarter of a face or less. Like Bob, the right eye and jawline, who knew something about everything  [He said it's like having a conversation with Wikipedia], to the deeply detailed dreamy girl who played the accordion.

Sometimes we wake up feeling like Mr. Potato Head, with our mouth where our eye should be.

In between sketches of friends who fell out of touch and John Ashbery poems, we gave credit to palindromes. The Imagist drew HannaH with a handlebar moustache and I realized that this poem ends when Two Creek closes - comforted by the fact that poetry can be about the simplest moments, the ones that I never understood exactly how beautiful they were until I read them in my own shaken handwriting.

In a mix-up of words, He discovered how sick he was of writing with something, rather than writing for something.
I evaluated my own pen and chewed on my tongue.

I wish I could draw portraits so that I'd remember first impressions.

When The Director showed up, we exchanged science and art. He explained to me the imaginary horizons of black holes and Hawking radiation, but even he taught it through a sketch in the top left corner of his science fiction movie script. At the foreign end of the table, The Imagist continued a conversation about the complexities of children's books, and theories someone developed through observing their attention-starved cats who bore uncanny likeness to kids, and the appeal of Furbies, while The Director asked me how I write a poem.
I told him it starts with a single line, something that zings in my mouth like cavities and canker sores, but not to take my advice because I have far too many illegitimate, ******* sons; clouds of words daunted by the clear skies of the rest of the page. After The Director's end credits, eventually I joined the foreign conversation where we had begun it, with The Imagist saying, "Our skin connects us to everything, it doesn't trap us in to our own narcissism."

And then they were gone too, each dissolved into a part of themselves and each other - to fall into place in a world that runs on six-billion beating hearts.

In between the grain of a yellow birch table that's hosted the gunfire of mouths and lonely bones, I stayed and played my part, losing my fingers in the varnish and pages of books, believing that I, my entirety, my open borderline skin, my wooden grain, my air in the wind, my ballpoint pen finger, was writing for something.
Angie S  Oct 2015
Angie S Oct 2015
i always craved something like a tragic backstory
a picturesque melancholy, shedding tears like fallen stars,
a beautiful face with a broken heart
only one person could put back together

but no one ever said
that when you broke, your eyes swelled and became blurred
and your heart shattered like glass on a hardwood floor
you don't feel beautiful at all
you don't even feel like a star
all you are is a badly written story with seemingly no ending
i was in a writing mood but this poem really is no good
its a badly written poem
S Smoothie Oct 2018
Another kiss,
sent where the rivers of our souls aether meet
underneath a starfall refracting crystalline rainbows
winding through the cosmos playing hide and seek
riding on asteroid belts,
dancing under the rain of shooting starss
remembering the feel of your touch
the night seems less lonely by much
even now when we are lifetimes apart
my day ends and sweet memories start
a shady breath of wind from above
on a hot stagnant journey
you are my shadow love
a sweet warmth,
glowing on dark cold winter‘s mourn  
a bright smile,
over a miserable sky
a shower of energy and sparks
on a nondescript day
my sane little hidey-hole in this crazy place
how I yearn for that time again
somewhere lost
in the deep shadows
of our space

everywhere I go
your shadow love
Just because I remembered
Hope A  Feb 2020
Hope A Feb 2020
The stars are calmly fading
into the dimming air of night
I watch their strength glimmer
within such fragile light.

As they smile gently at Earth
memories illuminate their eyes
and daylight falls slowly
embracing their soft cries.

Betty  Aug 2020
Betty Aug 2020
My hand caught a star
It ran between my fingers
Glittering like rain
M Can Yılmaz  Oct 2018
M Can Yılmaz Oct 2018
I’m tired of this show
Talents keep coming
Eyes coming to see
They’re all dead, they’re talented on dying
- Jan 2015
Like a deer running through the forest
Trampling little lives that meant of no importance
And not a single thought left behind

Humming through trees
Whispering through souls
Almost like a perfectly timed song
Except they missed the part
Where the birds sang free

Leaf hanging from a tree
Never to be put out of misery
Until someone finally notices
But they never wanted to see pain.

I used to think I was strong
Maybe I wasn't strong enough
Or I let my guard down
To fall into this blackness
What's the point of being invincible
If I have to suffer this?

Brave like a soul
Courage rains through your heart
And throw this life breaking storm
We will emerge
And find out
We were our own heroes

Feathered saviour
Coming from an all high
May just save our burnt and froze skin
And take us of light wings
But I don't think this one is called hope.

Sweet comes first
Then there is regret
But we can push that all aside
We can ignore the aftermath
Till we realized we lost
To our own decisions

I think they mean to be this way
I think they mean this pain
I think they want me in this void
They love getting what they want

Flying on ice
Running on wings
Doing the impossible in our own way
And smiling to the non believers
Racing to see who gets to our hearts first

Joy is like love
Happiness seems to last forever
Sadness left alone
And forgotten

Watching rockets kiss the sky
But the flames burnt out
And rain washed again
Sadness has a friend now

Everything seemed black
Everything seemed sad
Till I saw a silver dress

I dance around gold shores now
Silver dress and red shoes
I felt like a princess
What kind of princess?
Just imagine.

Hearts only desire to beat
Brains like to think
Lungs are there to breathe
And lips are here to destroy with meaningless words

Endless void
Useless space
Black forever

These fears can never help through time
And hope can't carry on strong
I wonder what space is like
I think it's empty like me

Fragile like a glass cup
But colorful like the evening's rainbow
One drop
And a nature's masterpiece is gone
In a way it's like me
One drop
Then it's gone.

Red sandy beaches
Water soaking the edge
It's like the sea is crying
From being destroyed

But the sand is still soft enough
To dance mercilessly on  
And maybe that's why
I love the endless sea

Drifting along a riverside
And water is the tingle of sweetness
Relaxing on life
Drifting far away
Drifting where?
I cannot say.

Stars can only show some beauty
Forging these smiles
And thunder roars our darkest desires
If this is only a joke
Then why aren't we laughing?

They say to shoot for the moon
And if you missed
You would land among the stars
But they didn't think the stars are made from despair
Because one can only shine
If others is surrounded in darkness

Lies and lies
I don't think of them as lies
Just another truth
So what if you are what you aren't?
It just shows them
That they can't say who you are.

Loving the sound of danger
And our ultimate energy
Of the breaking
And the building
Then it just flies away.

Shading the scars
Caressing the faint whispers
Trembling limbs
It's like you almost made one mistake

Frosting windows
And icy breath
Trembling down to our knees
Falling to soft flakes

All I need is the warmth
And just security
The knowledge
That you actually care.

Starfall could bring one to tears
And it was the very hurt you sold
Of this brilliant and black
And the leaf has yet fallen
From this unholy tree

Rain can go anywhere
And share it's life
Some get more than others
The others fail to live

These tears from the clouds
Are the blessings of ghosts
Ghosts of our ferocity

Flame in this blue
Where everything could of been good
And this hologram could of been real

But this fire is still here
And these fears still linger
What can I do without you?

Playing in lost droplets
Screaming in sacred secrets
And the pains where we are buried
Down we go
And we all fall down
Never to meet purity
eep im sorry this is super long, and kinda ****** but whatever <3

— The End —