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Farah Taskin Jun 7
a comely mermaid
her diamond

she has
to let
it go

she won't
be happy
the briny

she won't
be happy

she won't
be happy
the eternal

she wants
but not
the necklace
Fritzi Melendez Jun 2021
i love the moon
wrapped around my neck
the small crescent moon bouncing happily on my heart
as we hold hands

that same beautiful moon
in which i trace with my fingers
feeling the smooth moonstone
be imprinted with my fingerprints

that same affectionate moon
as it glided on your chest when we gasped for more air
and you held me close to your heart
as the moonlight shined softly from the window

that same wonderstruck moon
we would fight under
tears that reflected the moonstone
always streaming down my face

that same gleaming moon
that you would wipe my tears
with the hands i had felt for years
and all i could do was look up and dream of

that same distant moon
where i had found out about your disloyalty
and i felt myself slipping into vast space
putting myself in front of asteroids just to feel something

that same sickening moon
taunting me with the way it just
stays up there, coming out only at night
only to observe and listen for chaos that reigns after dark

that same wicked moon
that was suffocating me in my sleep
when i would lie next to your empty shell
gasping for air as i wipe my moonstone tears

that same dreadful moon
as it watched me deteriorate in your arms
burning holes into my chest
dwindling my soul until it left me hollow

i... used to love the moon
when i knew that it was lovingly
wrapped around my neck by you
and you would feel the moonstone with your lips

i used to love the moon
until the last star died
and i ripped it off from my neck
and drove myself into a black hole

that same cynical moon
that you proclaimed your love to me too,
was the same ******* moon
that my entire being was shattered by you


i ******* hate the moon.
i miss what we used to be.
Payton Feb 2021
Tell me, my dear,   why      you keep

that golden sun beetle      tied so       tightly around your neck?

You say       that you feel naked without it, as

                           it hangs gently

        over your *******.

                         But let me tell you something.

I feel naked without you wrapped around my neck.

                      I am totally and completely exposed without your love

       to shield me from the night.

But your arms are not a ribbon.

                                  I cannot keep you on

a leash.

             Nor do I want to.

Darling, you are           the most valuable thing in the universe            to me.

And because             you mean so much,                     I must let you fly free.

I cannot keep you tied around my neck like the scarab on yours.

I can only hope that you'd willingly hang around.
This poem was written in 2016.
It's inspired by a golden beetle necklace I had years ago.
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020

Wedding bells in Thebes
Jewelled treasure about slim throats
Strife passed down bloodlines

900 poems! Oh my lord, I actually hit 900! Whoa! I've got something really special planned for later, haha! A nice concrete poem is in the works!
Before I hit the hay, I wanted to share another haiku dedicated to the goddess, Harmonia!
I too feel like she doesn't get enough.
And I can't help but feel bad for her.
Granted, she is the daughter of Aphrodite and Ares, but she is an innocent.
I know she relatively has a happy ending (in the variant myth I'm aware of), but she and her line didn't deserve such misfortune...
Here's the link for the growing collection:
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Kennedy Jun 2020
you cannot remove pain from your skin,
as if it were a tattoo removal.
though, i wish it were that easy.
i'm aware his fingerprints are not burned
around my neck,
as if his hands were some
unconsensual necklace.
i know the bruises around my neck
have faded.
i still feel them
in my refusal to wear a scarf,
or a turtleneck.
i still feel them
in my dreams
where everything is as it was.
i feel them in my rush to be different,
to dye my hair,
to ignore my past.
A poem for my WIP book.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Warming Her Pearls
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

Warming her pearls, her *******
gleam like constellations.
Her belly is a bit rotund ...
she might have stepped out of a Rubens.

Published by Erosha, The Eclectic Muse, Muse Apprentice Guild, Nisqually Delta Review, Erbacce, Poetry Life & Times and Brief Poems. Keywords/Tags: warming, pearls, necklace, *******, belly, rotund, Rubens, Rubenesque, ****, painting, art, bath, bathing, seductive, sensuous, baroque, full-figured
Merinda Mar 2019
Hanging off my little necklace
Come back to ashes
Cause i'm so sick of this place
Troubles get ready to chase
But i'm not pretty sure to face
annh Jan 2019
Time threads her necklace patiently,
Choosing carefully the colour and shape of our experiences,
Here, a tumbled quartz - luminous and rosy,
There, shards of darkest onyx - tragic and uncompromising,
Every now and again, a perfect sphere of sacred turquoise to mark a special occasion.

Finally, satisfied with her handiwork Time ties off the strand,
And weaves the precious metal of our dreams - unrealised - into an intricate clasp,
As she places the memento around her bejewelled neck she sighs to herself and whispers:
‘Such promise, such pain, such beauty, such loss; I will treasure you always.’
Then reaching for her spool of silver thread, she begins again to thread her golden needle.
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