She held my hands and brought me
to the moon.
As wanderer in the silver sky,
a silent observer of the lantern of darkness,
she brought with her,
her memory of heavy past.
But the moon just watched and remained silent.
She understood the moon’s message,
“There is light and darkness within us,
just love and cherish life.”
I enjoyed the night’s magic and significance.
As I watched her hues and
smelled her fragrance.
Her smile mirrors the brightness and mystery of the moon.
Though her eyes reflect her darkness
With the luminous moon,
she shimmered beyond the clouds.
On a night journey that I won’t forget,
a magical moment with my lunar angel.
~Saw the enchanting beauty of last night’s full moon.
But maybe I misread the moon.
(She never hides things for long).
You never gave me the chance
to understand why you hate me.
But maybe this is Her way of saying:
by having you completely gone
A new path can finally be cleared.
You left without saying bye.
The moon glistening through the sky cuts a silver through my whisper of thoughts.
Unwavering gaze imprisoned by that crystal kingdom
Of pits and craters.
Yet so mesmerizingly beautiful.
Mesmerizing enough to blacken out my heart swirling around the shackles of yesterday.
Mesmerizing enough to pull me out of my trance that might've not seen me through the day.
Mesmerizing enough to forget the universe whirling around me in shades of sadness and confusion.
Beauty can go far in healing.
Especially the beautiful strokes bringing us to Him awestruck on our mesmerized knees.
A sudden inspiration that arose when I imagined a scenario where I'm confessing my brain is too pre-occupied and busy with things to be inspired to write poetry.
On the night of initiation,
curves of pale luster began to gleam unwrinkled from the darkened divots along the lunar surface
A perspective unseen for so long, it was viewed as a defaulted “wink” on the face of the moon
And therefore, forgotten, unmentioned, until it’s means were sought
From days ‘fore, and long since now dust
Scribing authors, secrete beads of frenzy into ink filled phial
Sending tremors down, into the quill tip
Filling scrolls for permanence in a preemptive defense against continuous unraveling thoughts would befall
this fluency into incoherent clutter
Pioneers of preprint in a provoking tome,
would speak educated reasons why these areas of Moon had been locked under sealed dark punishment
since Empedocles mixed cosmic elements to breed an undeniable proving truth
Exhibiting the myth of danger
The established absolute and supervening fizzling sunset
proving the existence of love...
“Since I have given you words from my within
like the ecliptic rising and burning massive,
Our mutual visibility of late is either one-sided
I’ll take a detour around the comforts of romance
And try to talk my way into your pants
By tossing at you, letters squeezed together,
for your minds transcription into the heart of my subliminal write
In hopes you’ll feel a trickling gush
If I get really lucky these words will find you like a volcano erupts a ****
The same way water, beating against years of stone can fall
And crash through a dam with pouring force so insatiable it’s territory is marked in history
A girl once told me
I should come over
to the sunny side of the moon
once in a while.
But the moon is not lit up by suns.
It's lit up by earth mostly.
We make it shine.
I light up moons and satellites.
And Elon Musk. How the f**k can one be so dumb
To send a car in outer space,
instead of words and letters? What a pun.
In space we can feel no pain, it gets better everyday
We can challenge steel horses and vast spaces
We can forget races, catch furthest bases.
I could challenge earth
all at once...
I'd like to crowdfund for fun
her first moon library
be lunar writer no. 1
I wait till 4 AM
when the moon comes
to my part of the sky
and illuminates my windowsill
with her silver light
lulls me slowly
I listen to the soft song
with closed eyes
sung by the southern breeze
like gentle wind chimes
The dead letters of Sleep
finally arrive at my postbox desolate
but not long before the neon dial starts screaming,
"IT'S TOO LATE! IT'S TOO LATE!"
It's too late..
On team insomnia we don't believe in sleep.
the moon pierced the sky
the ancient satellite's reign
dawns with full halo
Guided by moonlight
To a croaking shore
Your fire-skin seared
With a lunar glow
As you breathe sun into my lungs,
I am collapsed by weightless love.