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Angel Nov 2020
Once in a blue moon

You find yourself
You look in the mirror, into your reflection
& wish to catch the tears falling

I wish the moon & I could embrace
For it’s blessed me with another night
of its brilliance

Blue moon, blue moon
You make me woeful
Why must you bring out the ocean in me

I’m losing myself
I got nothing but me
Back to the waters I’ll be
I S A A C Nov 2020
The only consistent thing having my back is my corset
always try to build connections but will never force it
I have come to peace with oneness, I know its all about how I perceive aloneness
Cannot say that some days I do not sway
Teardrops mimic the rains, falling falling away
Each day different energy to conquer
An ambitious rida like my anthem by Tupac Shakur
Summer perfumed memories making me hate the chilly breeze
Such a beautiful array of colours but my mind is stuck on green
Memories of the nights we laid underneath the moon's eyes
Everyday communication through the 3 and 5-D
Forget how much I loved my own eyes, vivid green that can pierce through lies
Hips blessed with the holy fruit of the divine
With you and without everyone I will continue to thrive
As long as I can inhale., I will thrive
As long as my hands are mine to control, I will express my thoughts on my mind
As long as my spine allows, I will climb that mountain no doubt
Always extending the lands I have touched.
Fell in love with my own piercing gaze
Sparking that fire in you
Is a rarity; taboo;
Once in a blue moon.

I miss the feeling of being higher
Above all else, the only desire,
More special than any prior.

But it’s clear I’m just a factor;
And on this stage, we’re just actors
Waiting for a red carpet disaster.

I miss writing about you,
Immortality for just us two;
But I want to be remembered, too.

I wish I could care less,
Be a little more fearless
To lose that of which I’m blessed.
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2018
Once in the blue moon
What if, you can rewrite the history?
He asked

For sure
I'll turn it into a fairy tale
She replied
Genre: Observational
Theme: Soft words, history without blood shed
M Aug 2018
An evening passes
and the dawn light breaks,
while a silence stretches thin
under the light of the moon.

Another night passed,
and seas swallowed the moon,
and the sun cried darkness
upon the foams of the waves.

When Night cried for light,
the moon did not shine;
drowned from the subtle hands,
by a delicate touch of sky.
Another transfer from AllPoetry. Not one of my best ones but still gonna post it.
Jayantee Khare Jan 2018
Moon O Moon!
Why are you red?
Is your mood bad?

Moon O Moon!
Why people call you?
That you go blue.

Moon O Moon!
Why are you miss?
Your sight is a bliss,,

Moon O Moon!
Why are you crescent?
And then absent.

Moon O Moon!
Why are you eclipsed?
A part is missed.

Moon O Moon!
Why are you super?
When I'm bigger.
Oh dear Earth!
Why do you blame?
It's all your game.

Oh dear Earth!
You cast your shadow,
And hide my glow.

Oh dear Earth!
You turn your face,
It's not my phase.

Oh dear Earth!
You behave psychic,
And I am called lunatic.

Oh dear Earth!
I am always same,
My shine is all your game.

Oh dear Earth!
Reflecting your color,
What is given, same I offer.

Oh dear Earth!
I don't have air.
I'm always fair.

Oh dear Earth!
Out of my love for you,
My phases caused by you.

Oh dear Earth!
My love is eternally for you,
Staying away yet eyeing for you.

Oh dear Earth!
What if you don't respond?
I will keep making your round.
Moon is my muse since childhood...
Witnessed supermoon/red moon/blue moon/Eclipse just now.....
wrote on hp directly...
No edit
spare me for childlike language...
harlon rivers Oct 2017
Penned on watermarked cotton paper
Cursive letters script the words
of a surrendering rhythmic rhyme.
The ardent sonata was written
by the light of a Blue Moon’s shine.

The blood red ink bled through
the white wrinkled cotton pages;
musical notes dried by the warmth
of glowing Moon Beams radiance
in the subtle pollination breeze...

The maestro Coyote’s howl cried out!

Instinctively rousing the stillness of the night;
       a feral essence echoed
       through the eerie silence
       of the distant horizon,
bringing helpless lovers to their knees.

The words to the Cabernet Sauvignon
       stained midnight  lullaby,
       were emotions quilled,
       blending an aura accenting
       organic warmth of tones...

       The native maple trees'
flowering canopies of Spring
released a dusty yellow pollen
onto the watermarked cotton sheets.

In a moment of rapturous intimacy,
       an elixir of intoxicating bliss
illumined the achingly euphoric moments.
A natural untamed wildness was exhaled;
       savored ecstasy released
       into a passionate song of love …

That poignant melody forever lingers,
       like hieroglyphics on the walls
of some long lost abandoned cave.

Engraved, etched, brushed and stroked
       onto the brattice canvas
       of a musical Minstrel’s
            melodic montage ...

       Watch the artiste’s fingers
       prancing graceful ballet
       Worn down catgut strings

     ­                  weep


       crying out lustfully.
     as if it were
    enraptured lovers'
  breathless sighs

  the rhythm’s cadence
whispers a masterpiece
       in an infinite
       harmonious time...

       The tempo’s lines


             ♪♫♪ ~ ♫  ♪♪

        Listen to the pictures flow...
Listen to the weeping guitar strings
      of the passionate troubadour
stroking the metaphorical canvas scene.

       The ebb and flow
       of the musical rhythm's throb
arouse the Blue Moon’s hypnotic  allure,
    throwing incandescent shadows
    that dance around Moonbeams.

Joyfully twirling, blissfully embracing
in the blossoming Forget-me-not fields;
            Bluebonnet Lupine
               swirl and tango
       with the moonlit breeze.

       Lilacs fragrant aroma drifts
with spring’s churning romantic haze;
rekindling this fleeting memories recital.
The Minstrel and the Minstrel’s song
         now yearn to be set free ~

      Timbre without reverberation …
The twilight serenade was never penned
  to be hidden from the Nightingale

A romantic moment’s sorrowful lament
to be abandoned like a broken dream;
   fading unnoticed into forevermore ―
      Unsung,  unsaid, unreleased,
                through eternity…

              The maestro Coyote
       is a wilderness troubadour
       illumined under the gloaming
               full moon’s spell.

                Howling soulfully...
               wailing impulsively ~
              ... crying hopefully
             pleading mournfully
the Minstrel’s breathless cadenza ...

A bitter sweet musical embryo of love
                 found and lost
           the full Blue Moon’s
               glistening light…

©  H.  Rivers ... 2012, 2013
           all rights reserved
Notes (optional)

"It's a marvelous night for a moon dance"
from the written pages of a hopeless romantic

Post Script:

An attempt to blow the dust off  the hidden archives and the aging tomes to bring my unpublished writing portfolio back into the light.

A friend from my musical past ask me to publish this once again and LEAVE IT could I say no to one who uplifts the low (?)!
Memories Soul Dec 2015
I love to share my soul with someone nice
I love to said the poems under my soul
I love to say to the grey sky
I love to see the grey clouds alone
I love to hear sounds of souls
I love to remember everything around me
I love to write poems to you
I love the sound of quietness
I love the memories in the mist place
I love the darkness in the ocean blue
I love to open eyes under the black sea
I love to close my eyes when I hear your soul.

My poems is slow dance with your words; My words is dancing in the blue moon under my soul.
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