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#bluemoon
Asleep at dusk, awake at midnight The night calls to me (it calls out to me) Night demons wake in neon dreams In another land, where angels softly scream Pulling at the wings of the Divine How do you make me feel claustrophobia? My own skin is pulled taut over the surface Maddening doom is giving me the chills Ladders traverse off to the lunar beauty Towers of rebuttal only quake in boots Your cursed castle is crumbling down Faltering on the ledge of absolutely nothing Conjured shadows rise as fleeting enemies A cornered apparition, the poltergeist is rising The snapback of the crypt is revolving A sip of the bad blood, drunk on the tears of a dying sun
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4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 3:23 AM UTC
The Poltergeist Is Rising
Once in a blue moon You find yourself You look in the mirror, into your reflection & wish to catch the tears falling I wish the moon & I could embrace For it’s blessed me with another night of its brilliance Blue moon, blue moon You make me woeful Why must you bring out the ocean in me I’m losing myself I got nothing but me Back to the waters I’ll be
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Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 7:50 PM UTC
Blue Moon
The only consistent thing having my back is my corset always try to build connections but will never force it I have come to peace with oneness, I know its all about how I perceive aloneness Cannot say that some days I do not sway Teardrops mimic the rains, falling falling away Each day different energy to conquer An ambitious rida like my anthem by Tupac Shakur Summer perfumed memories making me hate the chilly breeze Such a beautiful array of colours but my mind is stuck on green Memories of the nights we laid underneath the moon's eyes Everyday communication through the 3 and 5-D Forget how much I loved my own eyes, vivid green that can pierce through lies Hips blessed with the holy fruit of the divine With you and without everyone I will continue to thrive As long as I can inhale., I will thrive As long as my hands are mine to control, I will express my thoughts on my mind As long as my spine allows, I will climb that mountain no doubt Always extending the lands I have touched.
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Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC
I S A A C
Sparking that fire in you Is a rarity; taboo; Once in a blue moon. I miss the feeling of being higher Above all else, the only desire, More special than any prior. But it’s clear I’m just a factor; And on this stage, we’re just actors Waiting for a red carpet disaster. I miss writing about you, Immortality for just us two; But I want to be remembered, too. I wish I could care less, Be a little more fearless To lose that of which I’m blessed.
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Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 2:00 AM UTC
Blue Moon
Once in the blue moon What if, you can rewrite the history? He asked For sure I'll turn it into a fairy tale She replied
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Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 4:18 AM UTC
Editing History
An evening passes and the dawn light breaks, while a silence stretches thin under the light of the moon. Another night passed, and seas swallowed the moon, and the sun cried darkness upon the foams of the waves. When Night cried for light, the moon did not shine; drowned from the subtle hands, by a delicate touch of sky.
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
Blue Moon
***Moon O Moon! Why are you red? Is your mood bad? Moon O Moon! Why people call you? That you go blue. Moon O Moon! Why are you miss? Your sight is a bliss,, Moon O Moon! Why are you crescent? And then absent. Moon O Moon! Why are you eclipsed? A part is missed. Moon O Moon! Why are you super? When I'm bigger. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh dear Earth! Why do you blame? It's all your game. Oh dear Earth! You cast your shadow, And hide my glow. Oh dear Earth! You turn your face, It's not my phase. Oh dear Earth! You behave psychic, And I am called lunatic. Oh dear Earth! I am always same, My shine is all your game. Oh dear Earth! Reflecting your color, What is given, same I offer. Oh dear Earth! I don't have air. I'm always fair. Oh dear Earth! Out of my love for you, My phases caused by you. Oh dear Earth! My love is eternally for you, Staying away yet eyeing for you. Oh dear Earth! What if you don't respond? I will keep making your round.***
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
Moon and Earth....romantic talks..
***Penned on watermarked cotton paper Cursive letters script the words of a surrendering rhythmic rhyme. The ardent sonata was written by the light of a Blue Moon’s shine.*** The blood red ink bled through the white wrinkled cotton pages; musical notes dried by the warmth of glowing Moon Beams radiance in the subtle pollination breeze... The maestro Coyote’s howl cried out! Instinctively rousing the stillness of the night;        a feral essence echoed        through the eerie silence        of the distant horizon, bringing helpless lovers to their knees. The words to the Cabernet Sauvignon        stained midnight  lullaby,        were emotions quilled,        blending an aura accenting        organic warmth of tones...        The native maple trees' flowering canopies of Spring released a dusty yellow pollen onto the watermarked cotton sheets. In a moment of rapturous intimacy,        an elixir of intoxicating bliss illumined the achingly euphoric moments. A natural untamed wildness was exhaled;        savored ecstasy released        into a passionate song of love … That poignant melody forever lingers,        like hieroglyphics on the walls of some long lost abandoned cave. Engraved, etched, brushed and stroked        onto the brattice canvas        of a musical Minstrel’s             melodic montage ...        Watch the artiste’s fingers        prancing graceful ballet        Worn down catgut strings                                 ***moan                                   weep               purr***        crying out lustfully.      as if it were     enraptured lovers'   breathless sighs   the rhythm’s cadence whispers a masterpiece        in an infinite        harmonious time...        The tempo’s lines                 Phrasing…                  ...hush...!              ♪♫♪ ~ ♫  ♪♪         Listen to the pictures flow... Listen to the weeping guitar strings       of the passionate troubadour stroking the metaphorical canvas scene.        The ebb and flow        of the musical rhythm's throb arouse the Blue Moon’s hypnotic  allure,     throwing incandescent shadows     that dance around Moonbeams. Joyfully twirling, blissfully embracing in the blossoming Forget-me-not fields;             Bluebonnet Lupine                swirl and tango        with the moonlit breeze.        Lilacs fragrant aroma drifts with spring’s churning romantic haze; rekindling this fleeting memories recital. The Minstrel and the Minstrel’s song          now yearn to be set free ~       Timbre without reverberation … The twilight serenade was never penned   to be hidden from the Nightingale A romantic moment’s sorrowful lament to be abandoned like a broken dream;    fading unnoticed into forevermore ―       Unsung,  unsaid, unreleased,                      unrequited                 through eternity…               The maestro Coyote        is a wilderness troubadour        illumined under the gloaming                full moon’s spell.                 Howling soulfully...                wailing impulsively ~               ... crying hopefully              pleading mournfully                      lamenting the Minstrel’s breathless cadenza ... A bitter sweet musical embryo of love                  found and lost                        below            the full Blue Moon’s                glistening light… ©  H.  Rivers ... 2012, 2013            all rights reserved
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Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
The Minstrel of the Blue Moon
***Penned on watermarked cotton paper Cursive letters script the words of a surrendering rhythmic rhyme. The ardent sonata was written by the light of a Blue Moon’s shine.*** The blood red ink bled through the white wrinkled cotton pages; musical notes dried by the warmth of glowing Moon Beams radiance in the subtle pollination breeze... The maestro Coyote’s howl cried out! Instinctively rousing the stillness of the night;        a feral essence echoed        through the eerie silence        of the distant horizon, bringing helpless lovers to their knees. The words to the Cabernet Sauvignon        stained midnight  lullaby,        were emotions quilled,        blending an aura accenting        organic warmth of tones...        The native maple trees' flowering canopies of Spring released a dusty yellow pollen onto the watermarked cotton sheets. In a moment of rapturous intimacy,        an elixir of intoxicating bliss illumined the achingly euphoric moments. A natural untamed wildness was exhaled;        savored ecstasy released        into a passionate song of love … That poignant melody forever lingers,        like hieroglyphics on the walls of some long lost abandoned cave. Engraved, etched, brushed and stroked        onto the brattice canvas        of a musical Minstrel’s             melodic montage ...        Watch the artiste’s fingers        prancing graceful ballet        Worn down catgut strings                                 ***moan                                   weep               purr***        crying out lustfully.      as if it were     enraptured lovers'   breathless sighs   the rhythm’s cadence whispers a masterpiece        in an infinite        harmonious time...        The tempo’s lines                 Phrasing…                  ...hush...!              ♪♫♪ ~ ♫  ♪♪         Listen to the pictures flow... Listen to the weeping guitar strings       of the passionate troubadour stroking the metaphorical canvas scene.        The ebb and flow        of the musical rhythm's throb arouse the Blue Moon’s hypnotic  allure,     throwing incandescent shadows     that dance around Moonbeams. Joyfully twirling, blissfully embracing in the blossoming Forget-me-not fields;             Bluebonnet Lupine                swirl and tango        with the moonlit breeze.        Lilacs fragrant aroma drifts with spring’s churning romantic haze; rekindling this fleeting memories recital. The Minstrel and the Minstrel’s song          now yearn to be set free ~       Timbre without reverberation … The twilight serenade was never penned   to be hidden from the Nightingale A romantic moment’s sorrowful lament to be abandoned like a broken dream;    fading unnoticed into forevermore ―       Unsung,  unsaid, unreleased,                      unrequited                 through eternity…               The maestro Coyote        is a wilderness troubadour        illumined under the gloaming                full moon’s spell.                 Howling soulfully...                wailing impulsively ~               ... crying hopefully              pleading mournfully                      lamenting the Minstrel’s breathless cadenza ... A bitter sweet musical embryo of love                  found and lost                        below            the full Blue Moon’s                glistening light… ©  H.  Rivers ... 2012, 2013            all rights reserved
Continue reading...
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I love to share my soul with someone nice I love to said the poems under my soul I love to say to the grey sky I love to see the grey clouds alone I love to hear sounds of souls I love to remember everything around me I love to write poems to you I love the sound of quietness I love the memories in the mist place I love the darkness in the ocean blue I love to open eyes under the black sea I love to close my eyes when I hear your soul. My poems is slow dance with your words; My words is dancing in the blue moon under my soul.
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Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
Soul
*Clouds are as thin as satin The cool breeze caresses our faces Millions of stars gleam so bright Like no other I describe the night There I see your eyes ever so pretty Jaw-dropped as they look at mine Your face defines such beauty That It cursed me with dementia Your lips is as red as velvet Cured my color blindness As they move as you speak I can't respond, I'm tongue-tied The warmth of your embrace Overthrew the coldness afar As both our eyes collides I fell more in love with you I stare in your lips one more time For they kept me in astonishment Oh I really wanted to kiss them Yet I can't cause I can't I know that time will come All I have to do is to keep my faith Under this bright blue moon I promise, with all my heart, I will wait*
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Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
Blue Moon
Hello Blue Moon. How you look so lovely and bright and I do so notice your shade tonight. It's said that your suppose to bring about change. Oh, how I could use some now. As I gaze up and think of all that has pasted and yet I'm reminded of your eyes and I begin to remember the tiny details of your face. Hello Blue Moon Do you think somewhere out there someone's thinking of me? The way I'm thinking and waiting on thee. Oh, how I love that idea, but it couldn't be? For I've seen their true colors and I know where I stand. Hello Blue Moon How lonely I feel with these thoughts still the sight of you brings me hope. So dark and quiet as the world around me sleeps soundly and I'm so alone within. Why do I find it hard to get over you? Hello Blue Moon How you shine so bright and allow me to soak up your light.
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
Hello Blue Moon.
A Moon Infused By Blue Hue Zoetic... Poetic... DLR 31/07/15
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
Blue Moon
All the lovers stand under the moonlight Holding hands while the sky is so bright For them to be together forever They must stay until the midnight is over And I am here under the stars Looking at the same moon with lonely scars Alone, the cold wind whispered to me "Someone's waiting for you, too. You will see."
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
BLUE MOON.
The crowds, slithering down the aisles            aimless yet ordered,  manoeuvering                      shopping carts and metal baskets Welcome to the lower class, the minion slave tied to the renting a house instead of a home. The climate is too harsh not to have shelter. They shop at thrift stores and outfit themselves for twenty bucks, hell they can find a living room for under a hundred dollars or bones or what ever you want to call them, that magic thing called Ca$h. All those people spending that cash, in most cases, hard earned. How did this ever happen * The Consumer they call us                                                      We save a lot of money                                                              Spending money we don't got. Ownership is the problem.. How does someone have the right to stake a claim to a chunk of land, then parcel  it off and make money selling it. The Earth belongs to all of us. The rich will go forward and lay claim to any planet they can reach for its natural resources.. How the hell can we let that happen. The Universe is ours, it belongs to everybody. We will leave this dirt and venture back when it has healed. I can see them harvesting asteroids and riding  comets, waving there Stetsons And hootin' yee haw as they speed through the galaxy, trying to hold onto their imagined power. The making up the rules as they go along. Sometimes I just have to ignore everything and create my own little world. A world where I trust my dead friends for sure. I don't know about everyone else. Leave everything all behind  finding some real peace. Not this chanting about it, but shaping it and moving it like the malleable construct that it is....                if you can call it a construct... and if you can't then 'what the hell'. We are more than we know, more than we claim.. the People can be the power We can start again, start all over before we swallow ourselves whole... and in part. Dismembered for certain. Dismembered and sent to the other side of the country, or half way around the world.
0
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
The Dollar Store
The crowds, slithering down the aisles            aimless yet ordered,  manoeuvering                      shopping carts and metal baskets Welcome to the lower class, the minion slave tied to the renting a house instead of a home. The climate is too harsh not to have shelter. They shop at thrift stores and outfit themselves for twenty bucks, hell they can find a living room for under a hundred dollars or bones or what ever you want to call them, that magic thing called Ca$h. All those people spending that cash, in most cases, hard earned. How did this ever happen * The Consumer they call us                                                      We save a lot of money                                                              Spending money we don't got. Ownership is the problem.. How does someone have the right to stake a claim to a chunk of land, then parcel  it off and make money selling it. The Earth belongs to all of us. The rich will go forward and lay claim to any planet they can reach for its natural resources.. How the hell can we let that happen. The Universe is ours, it belongs to everybody. We will leave this dirt and venture back when it has healed. I can see them harvesting asteroids and riding  comets, waving there Stetsons And hootin' yee haw as they speed through the galaxy, trying to hold onto their imagined power. The making up the rules as they go along. Sometimes I just have to ignore everything and create my own little world. A world where I trust my dead friends for sure. I don't know about everyone else. Leave everything all behind  finding some real peace. Not this chanting about it, but shaping it and moving it like the malleable construct that it is....                if you can call it a construct... and if you can't then 'what the hell'. We are more than we know, more than we claim.. the People can be the power We can start again, start all over before we swallow ourselves whole... and in part. Dismembered for certain. Dismembered and sent to the other side of the country, or half way around the world.
Continue reading...
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