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Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Step Into Starlight
by Michael R. Burch

Step into starlight,
lovely and wild,
lonely and longing,
a woman, a child . . .

Throw back drawn curtains,
enter the night,
dream of his kiss
as a comet ignites . . .

Then fall to your knees
in a wind-fumbled cloud
and shudder to hear
oak hocks groaning aloud.

Flee down the dark path
to where the snaking vine bends
and withers and writhes
as winter descends . . .

And learn that each season
ends one vanished day,
that each pregnant moon holds
no spent tides in its sway . . .

For, as suns seek horizons—
boys fall, men decline.
As the grape sags with longing,
remember—the wine!

Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: step, starlight, woman, child, childhood, maturation, night, comet, moon, tides, winter, season, grape, longing, wine
I remember it like yesterday
50 years back, more or less
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She sang songs about rebellion
of love and hate and less
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

The bar was almost empty
Most nights it was I guess
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

I remember when she saw me
We connected, I confess
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

Word spread out about her
She was primed to have success
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

An agent came and watched her
A low life lizard known as Jess
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

Promises were made to her
She heard his pitch, and she said yes
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

I saw her climb the charts that year
She was a shell, a real hot mess
She no longer had an old guitar
She now wore hot pants, not a dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

You could see she was a puppet
A golden goose for lizard Wes
She no longer had an old guitar
She now wore hot pants, not a dress

I heard she died, an overdose
I wasn't shocked, I must confess
They buried her in Hollywood
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
I remember her old guitar
And her faded yellow dress
Grey Dec 2019
You don't realize it,
But I do.
I know a comet when I see one.
I know power when I see it.
You may not have seen her full potential now,
She may have looked weak and dim,
Just a streak and then she's gone,
But you'll see.
When she comes around again
Her light will sear your eyes.
She will burn
Bright and hot.
She isn't a mirage, a fluke in our minds.
She's a powerhouse
And when she returns, she'll be ready
To kindle her flames
And live.
Dec 25 2019
Kayley Brayz Nov 2019
The stars so beautiful, filled with beauty and light,
Sparkling and shining so bright,
Up in the vast starry beautiful night,
Oh, what a beautiful wondrous sight…

The wolfs howl at the moon,
The stars are so beautiful, the night far from noon,
The beautiful night is starry while the air being windless and cool,
To anyone who never seen stars, this beauty will make the person drool…

A comet zooms above in the night sky,
Speeding so fast, up so high,
A bunny hops by, such a little cutie,
An owl hoots by me, maybe like me too, enjoying the beauty…

The grass sways from the breeze,
As I stare at the sky I freeze,
The stars are so beautiful, like little sparkling white gems,
It's the Almighty One's creation, and the stars are one of His beautiful emblems…

The night sky, full of galaxies and inspiration,
I stare in awe, at the Almighty One's creation.
The oaks below the stars, lit by the soft gentle light of the moon,
As I stare in wonder, I know I will fall asleep soon…

I watch how a few light purple clouds by the moon pass,
I smile, laying by my camp tent on the cool Spring grass,
My eyelids start closing slowly over my eyes,
Closing my view from the beautiful night skies…

I fall asleep gently and slowly, my dreams showing me paranomas of the sky,
The wolfs howl at the moon, a bunny munches on the grass, while the owl hoots and soars so high,
Seen clearly by the beauty above,
While I miss the view by sleeping like a happy warm dove…




-Mishka Wayz
I had nothing to create, so I randomly created this. Sorry if there are any typos and / or it makes no sense. But otherwise, I tried ^^
Mia Sadoch Nov 2019
I'm falling through the atmosphere,
Burning up, scorching my skin
Unstoppable, to my own demise.

But is it really death to be free?
Stuck between gravity and a hard place
I let go, and flare up majestically.

I'd rather be a shooting star
Ephemeral and destructive
Than a prisoner of my own fate.

I'm dropping down, and out.
I am tired of studying. But there is no better place for me right now...
I kind of want to give up.
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Hale-Bopp’s fly-by
midnight stroll St. Simons beach-
lovers gently kiss
5/1/2018 - Poetry form: haiku - In 1997 my wife and I were taking a midnight stroll on the beach in St. Simons Island, GA, while the comet Hale-Bopp was flying by. Good as time as any for a kiss, yeah? Hale-Bopp is due to return in the year 4380. I wonder where we’ll be then? - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
fray narte Aug 2019
my lungs are made of sunbleached storms
and unfinished poems,
stalled and trapped in a cycle
of kisses under the disco lights
and muddled
phonograph records;
it's been so long
since they last sealed
my comets shut;
its ice, dust,
ammonia, sadness,
now trying to spill
out of my chest
every time i sigh a word.

that's what club music is good for;
they mask the sound
of breaking down;
the sound of
bodies and meteors
falling apart;
each noise drowns out
my unsent letters,
and restroom meltdowns,
and my voice, saying your name
over and over and over again
as i come undone
on a stranger's lap.
he looked almost just like you —
and then he didn't.

and my comets almost all stayed,
but they didn't.

and i was almost just alive —
and then i wasn't.

honey, the world got us all wrong —
brewing *****, noise
and ash-brown eyes
across the floor —
it's happiness until it isn't;
in the end,
we're still comets
melting into solar flares
and forlorn figures
that never make it home.

the music fades.
the glasses fall.
it's 8 am, and we still wake up
to the suntrails of all the things we'd lost.
Jolan Lade Mar 2019
Going seventy thousand miles an hour.
Our comet is increasing in speed, building up power.
We are exiting the solar system.
We will never look back, never miss them.
I will never get bored on a celestial object, in a lonely space if you are with me, and our love is the subject in a star full place.

You and me
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