Rone Selim Feb 7
She represented freedom
With her humble clothes
her burning red hair,
have i ever witnessed something so pure

She smiled with her eyes closed
as she danced just for herself
She was not dependent on the crowd's applauses
She only moved for the heart's desire and love of the folk music
She had captured gazes,
without a single look.
The witness of her radiance gave hope, but she was oblivious to her affect on the people

As with every valiant step she took,
her subtle curls were tenderly
shown affection by
the cool breeze of the night
She had known the woods better than anyone in the town
As if she had not walked alone,
which only made her light radiate ever so bright.
She wore mud as her shoes
and used the howling voices
of dusk as her armor

It makes you question;
if the moon was created just for her eyes, they seemed to get brighter
and shiny every lluna plena.
I closed my eyes one night and i had visions of this girl.. The whole scenario was too beautiful not to be penned down.
It speaks of the potential, integrity, strength, greatness, a sense of freedom and justice in us. May you keep the light on your torch forever.
Camryn jones Jan 31
That desperate correspondence
Of a salty conscience
... falls two droplets
Leaky prophet
NO, I have lost it!
Touched too much hot
Of the water faucet
Red hands
They remain this way
'Til they know what they're for..
Camryn jones Jan 31
Speak easy
Hit the peace pipe
Hate is fleeting

Don't make a peep
Hear the sounds
Draining around you
Feel my silk skin
And forget




Dear blood of my blood
Moon and my stars,
Do you really
Have what it takes
..To be wild
Truly and irrevocably wild
With me
And Leave everything behind
Sometimes I doubt if I do
But I need to be your hero
So there's no room for second guessing
All there is to do is just
Lately I've been booting with leaving society like I've always wanted, bit fear and anxiety get in the way. And starting a new relationship during all this is not the best idea .. But i know I've been given this prize for a reason and it's always easier and more fun with a partner. Hopefully I'll find out the know-how here shortly
nainz Dec 2017
The moon is full tonight.
I can feel it's pull.

The cat stares at me.
Her eyes seem to suggest she knows what is on my mind.

As I gaze up into the mysterious sky,
The familiar taste of salt trickles into the corners of my lips.

I can feel a tug of my emotions,
Like the moon somehow has a role in the pull of my interstitial fluid.

It is basically sea water,

The black cat loiters a certain superstition within.
Fear becomes instilled as she stares into my soul with her all knowing glare.

"Blame it on the moon, blame it on the moon.
Tides come and go, so this shall too"

I strive to find the comfort this world has to offer me
Some say it comes from within, this I am not sure of.

The thoughts linger. The cat knows, I know she knows.
What does she make of me in this incapacitated state?

I taste the salt. It is drawn out by the moon.
That is what I tell myself.

Deep down I know the salt is due to the overwhelming grief I try to deny.

And the cat is merely the internalized self stigma eating away at my self esteem and efficacy.
Share your views/interpretation of these words. Am trying to find ways to communicate and would love to know if there are people who understand this.
Banan Dec 2017
The moment my heart got a grip of you
Is like
The sweet soft kiss of the sun
In a very cold morning
It is like
The warming tranquility of being home
While there's a thunderstorm outside
How the full moon drives the tides crazy
It is something like.. witnessing the beauty of the whole universe all at once
nav Oct 2017
Like your memory

Distant ,
Like your touch
Longing .....
There is a storm out tonite
Dust, won't let the moonbeams touch my soul
marta effe Sep 2017
We cruise rattlesnake bends.

Once in, you
find phantom lakes;
I - a full moon
over mountains of clay.

Sitting at the wooden table
the sun rises to my right
and the mountains become blue
under a grapefruit-shake sky.

My hands are dirty. My lips
The sweet September Moon
May try to hide behind
Some crooked iron picots
Or two twisted evergreens
While twilight's veil whispers
The poems of fall
Amongst trembling lemon leaves
But she cannot hide
Such a heavenly body from
The his golden, love stuck eyes
Two astral souls fated to be one
In the autumn's Honey-Moon
©LadyofRavenhill 2017
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