Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
fray narte Apr 28
by now, the moon knows that my chest is just a burial ground for this thousandfold of sighs — in their hands, all different ways of my undoing, and i am a breath away from one. you see, some nights are for the softest, gentlest moments of lunacy. some nights, for waging wars and succumbing into these sighs, barely held by the petals tightening around my throat. by now, the moon knows that i had once been a battlefield and it's a pity — growing poems on such an unholy ground, only to fall apart like aster leaves and ancient city walls.

darling, it's getting dark, and this is starting to look less like poetry — and more like spoils of war from inside my head.
Just as the moon getting closer agitates the waves, He got too close and angered the waves of her heart. He hoped for a piece of his soul to calm her tide but it was too much and she wished him gone as the waves spit the moon back out into the sky. While the rising sun found two sets of footprints, the path they were taking was separate from each other.
sorry that i've been gone for a while, i haven't had any inspiration for poetry until recent happenings in my personal life outside of poetry gave me inspiration...but at a cost that was too high
He finds himself somewhere new, a beach with his beautiful moon being licked by the ocean waves. Then he notices her, dancing at the tide's edge. He comes to realize that the moon led him to her through its final moonbeams for the night. As the Day cracks into a new dawn, It finds two sets of footprints walking along tide's edge on a path to the moon while the sea slowly consumes the trail.
my "unknown responder" recently confessed that she loved me...and I loved her too. she revealed that she's a Thalassophile when she found out I was a selenophile.
They stare at me, with questioning eyes. They wonder why I always look so tired, but in reality, I've never felt better. Last night I was able to speak with you again, tell you of my troubles and bathe in your light. They will never understand but that doesn't matter, for as long as I have you. I can handle the waking world just to have another chance to enjoy your company in a state of reality I don't belong in.
This is a little poem that's more personal than most of my original works, considering that I recently accepted the fact that I love the moon
A beam of light, I can see. Shining brightly across the sea. Then I see Her, in a torn white dress. Slowly climbing with the stars. She tries to hide her damaged face but I encourage her that it's part of her beauty. As a thank you for letting her shine with all her flaws, she tells me of the things she's seen back in a time when her face was smooth and craterless. And I sit with her and listen to her stories. Then comes the time for her to climb down, but she promises to be back, and I promised to be there waiting.
My first midnight poetry post that I tried...it wouldn't make sense if I didn't make it about lady moon
I confess to you and only you, lady moon highest in the sky, to take my fears and insecurities and keep them with you throughout your path in the night sky. For when Daybreak comes, those fears I hold close to me will be protected from the burning light of the sun. For when Daybreak comes, the secrets I've shared with you will be shielded and safe under the dim light of your moonbeams. For when Daybreak comes, Nobody but you and I will know of the secrets I've kept with you.
I've been tapping into my selenophile side lately whenever I start writing poems of my own work. This is the result of almost two months of wanting to write about the moon
I look out the foggy window, and there it is
The moon that shines so bright
As I sit in this dark room wondering what my purpose is
I watch for hours as it sinks into the never-ending sky
And my tears flow as it disappears
It is replaced with a new circle of light
More yellow and more bright
It makes me feel scared and watched by strangers
Eyes are looking at me as my face rains with sadness
Where is my precious? My love? My life?
Where is the light when it's dark outside?
A selenophile is a person who loves the moon
Em MacKenzie Jul 2019
I’ve been left numb and speechless by murals, symphonies and monuments,
but I was struck hard overwhelmed and left breathless by the sight of you.
I’d analyze every line, every inch and every sign for what it all represents,
but with complexity and perfection; that seems impossible to do.

The sun was illuminating on your back,
but I caught a greater shine from your smile.
I tossed time away fully prepared to lose all track,
I knew I wanted to walk alongside you day after day, mile after mile.

I have nothing that I can give,
I don’t have much to offer; I have no plan.
But I swear that as long as I may live,
I will worship you like no one else will or can.

I dusted myself off and presented my heart and soul as an open book,
every answer and truth you could want is within the text.
If you gain the courage, flip the index, skim and quickly take a look,
the first chapter is all about you and so is the rest and the next.

I’ve never been a fan of drinking
but my eyes absorb you like I’m dangerously dehydrated.
And every day since I met you I’ve spent all my time just thinking
was it coincidence, destiny, luck or simply fated.

There’s so little I can provide,
all I can promise you is my life in your hands.
I’ll be behind you if you fall, and stand tall when I’m at your side,
and I will worship you as no one else understands.

And I wove strings of poetry into a single thread,
my god, I’d hate to die without knowing every single thought in that beautiful head.

I took a nasty fall I was used to slips,
but I love you down to your fingertips.
I immortalized you in sonnets, poems and scripts,
‘cause I love you down to your fingertips.
I’ve been losing sleep and losing grips,
but I love you down to your fingertips.
Depraved of oxygen needing the air from your lips,
and I’ll love you down to your fingertips.
Semicolon Apr 2018
.                               “I
                            lo­ok out
                        side the window
                      and there
                   I see the
                moon, and
            that makes
           me wonder,
            ‘why would
              such a beauty
                   always want
                     to hide a part
                       of herself, why will
                             she want to?’
                                     ”
Next page