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Bea Aguilar Apr 30
When she asked me,
“What triggers you?”
I couldn’t pick one.
Crap.
Jon Thenes Mar 1
I went crazy
I did feral little dances
I acted in ways most betraying
of my previous social stance

but there were others
a multitude
it was the fault of the moon
we are weak and...

Mr. Moon
The Whey-faced Satellite has drawn deck
of our cowered population

on this full beaming night
this Friday
the anaemic loon quaker
is a menace

it lugs ******* the minds most creative

it moulds imagination and felonious thought
where previous their dwelled only a shopping list

it skims hostile cream from the fragile
and kissed wetter still
the most eager berserker

a dance of madness tups open the houses
pucks at our activities
plucks strings that fire our kinetic clatter
and scuppers any will to resist

Human species take the streets in corrosive numbers
A Party like this
shall make a dent
A Party like this
shall be a fist in Our Story
Hosted by the Moon
here I am
in the mix
prancing like some zany goof
Lou Romano Oct 2019
Insatiable insanity,
left wing, right foot, home.
Rectangular, triangular,
incapably prone.

Unable stigmatically,
invariably drone.
Whimsical fanatical,
address unknown

Sounds can describe
the words they convey.
Tranquil decisions can blur,
but do they.

Utter a word
to see what you say,
say what you see,
then be what you may.

Describe it in detail,
exhale every verb,
catch yourself, let yourself
grade on a curve.

But don’t strain your brain,
if it doesn’t make sense,
just take it all in,
come down off your fence.
Sekhar Sep 2019
I seek what I’ve learned but failed to understand
Celebrating this nothingness, oblivious to my heart
Expectation creates pressure that elevates my fear
Reality sets me free or so they made me believe
I walk along this thread, no ends on both sides
Balancing this lunacy with outbreaks so calm
I carry these words, no longer they are mine
What more can I do, to make them satisfied
just jumbled thoughts and fears
jake aller Jan 2019
As I sit
Under the lunatic light of the full moon
Of the blood-red lights of the moon


Full of wild passions
The lustful beast stirs again
And starts running and running
Howling at the moon

Riding into the new dawn
On a demented Harley Davis cycle
With two naked babes on his back

Riding into the sun
90 miles per second
At the speed of thought

He disappears into the lunatic light
Of the full moon
And I wake up
Alone in my bed

Saying, man, that was quite a night
I better not go there again

The wild beast
Laughs

He has heard that before

And I join
The beast
In howling at the Moon
final lunatic poem today.  I have more including audio versions on my web page, the world according to cosmos. check it out at https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com
jake aller Jan 2019
I stood outside
Between the trees
In a field

On the outside of town
Beneath the lunatic rays
Of the blood red full moon

The lunatic lights of the moon
Casts a wild primeval glow
On me

The hormonal chemicals are unleashed
The wild beast within
Escapes it chain

And I howl with delight
A werewolf
Free at last

To run amuck
Free of its civilized restrains
Throwing off its clothes

Stripping naked
Running wild
Naked and free

A wild man
Enjoying his freedom
the second of my lunatic poems
Umi Dec 2018
The sky is so blue, yet so very sorrowful,
Here in my prison, these thoughts just won't fade,
Exiled from a holy world into a lonesome, somber lunacy,
This painful day, the dream of a better, hopeful tomorrow,
Are truly the light of my fading consciousness in this hell,
So I went to count the days till judgement deems me pure again, until I may become whole once more from these broken shards of the past,
Budding sprouts begin to bloom quietly, as the timeless seasons rush by and vanish into the bittersweet remembrance of ones memories,
"Stay, even if you're weak, dear conscious" I wispered to myself as then my tired eyes got distracted for a brief moment,
Time already had come to an inevitable halt, so at least my pocketwatch told me after letting out one last, delicate ticking sound,
With that, the phantoms of my past had laid down to rest, as the coming dawn greeted me by displaying the fading stars of the sky,
This is truly a repeated tale I endure in this pitiful isolation,
But if my painful past were to be erased, the last brilliance of my life would be deemed lost, for the darkest moments truly are a gift from above, helping us to determine moments of joy, bliss and purest love,
So I hope that one day, this body of mine will swift into prayers, hopefully in the beauty of an unclouded light, filled with moonlight,
Maybe then, I can finally move on, leave this lunacy far behind me,
Deep inside these puzzled eyes give me courage,
Despite being sealed away I shall discard everything and challenge this unmerciful fate of mine,
Then I can reach that sky, where my ideals are displayed,
Surely freedom awaits the border of consciousness, at least I hope,
Love blooms on the waters surface, filled with countless tears
And with this newfound freedom I can withdraw myself in this wonderful, pure holy world I waited for so long!
Despite it being distant a fantasy,
I dream of a hopeful tomorrow,
Here, in my exile.

~ Umi
This didn't look remotely this long when I wrote it on paper first, sorry
OpenWorldView Nov 2018
I can’t see their anger.
I can’t taste their rottenness.
I can’t smell their stench.
I can’t hear their screams.
I can’t feel their stones.

I’ve grown cold of this world.
Shutting out all the lunacy
by looking into myself.

And I’m content, calm, ready.
They can’t scare me anymore.
I’ve sent my fears to the gallows.
Find the truth inside yourself.
Nikos Kyriazis Oct 2018
What are you drinking sir?
Oh, inside this wooden mug
several things exist

Stalks from the flowers of rainbow
and some molten clouds of autumn

Petals from the maize shrubbery yonder
and some drops from youth's lunacy of course

All you need
for the upcoming winter
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