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#moon
The billowing sea bows down dancing, the cool one comes— with love, as if with a flute on the lips, rising from the deep. Listen to the flute. Chorus clouds sing, drifting down the blue river— so mellifluous, into the sky they soar! From the secret valley, the punter sun ambles in, carrying wonderlight, as if it knows the flutist’s art— knows the rise from the sea’s bedrock. Every planet spins— a flying bee drawn to the inner music. Nothing pauses in the solar ring. The Moon, waning and waxing, in silhouette and half-light, sways above the sea full of life. It all began on this Earth, from our sea— Him, the Sweet Creative Maestro rose from the midst, and lifted the sun, the bumblebee. All the stars in the galaxy follow still— they can't forget the ancient story. Since then, the sun, brightest in the band, leads the mindful dance enduring, homeward— still following the haunting, eternal tune, pure mighty the one command: Qun. Be.
0
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Music in Space
Art, a smile like the one on the face of Mona Lisa. Curved like the waxing moon above the sea. Light a flame before a face yet to be seen. What will it prevail, will it show once for all a slow tilt on the smiling lips —a curve softly locks on a rose from the sun, or a shadow beneath the moon?
0
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 7:35 PM UTC
Smile Like Mona Lisa: I Didn’t Need to See Her
I. The moon sings the languid flower,   to bloom at midnight hour Harmonious feast transpires -   luminescent choir Petals mirror la hue de Luna,   but pale below her glow Though the desert sweet aroma,   is fragrance plus photo Neither causing nightly failure,   in idyllic charm In fact, those powers are greater,   together than apart II. The moon a long gone distant rock,   yet pulls on ocean tops Cereus lures with sweetest tricks,   and stings with countless licks   Battered holy asteroid face,  woos flawless solar gaze And even though it causes mire,   lunar eclipses fire The cactus thrives in driest sands,   and chokes in fertile lands Alluring lonesome wanderers,   promising mere water The lucid beauty bewilders,   as much as it can haunt In fact, those powers are greater,   together than apart III. You, once my cereus and moon,   were drowned in my love well Perhaps, I was this to you too,   though your hole I’d not delve However, what was first velvet,   morphed into devil’s horns Winter shed those thorns in my chest,   now spring gifts hope and more The icy grips of each winter,   provides spring fuel to spark In fact, those powers are greater,   together than apart IV. Although we've gone on our own ways,   I wouldn’t change the past For each step was necessary,   to find true love at last We were once greater together. I’m now greater apart.
0
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
My Cereus and Moon
A night owl in the harvest moon was awake till the crack of the dawn but wasn’t surfing online, wasn’t rowing the boat in the digital river. Deep down to a dreamweaving scene that was, in musing, painstakingly creative. Wait till you snap up a witty aphorism. The darling buds of May will be in bloom. The tickled pink nightingale too will give out its voice, singing a song. Save a copy and tweet it to all, but do give us a demo, tell us a bit more. Where does it shine and sizzle? Where did the winter tuck away the rose?
0
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 11:43 AM UTC
A Rose is not only for a Summer
I wanted to reach out to the sky not to touch any star just to whisper to the Moon 'How beautiful are you'! I was still, stunned on the ground   wandering down the sunrise hill. In the midst of the morning breeze   I heard of a whispering ‘The eyes in the sky gaze to the ground’. So close to me that drew as if that whispered to me ‘tell me about you’!
0
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 8:39 AM UTC
Eyes in the Sky Gaze to the Ground
A thousand and one sunrise painted the first light time and again. Yet it gets lost vanishes in one twilight. Millions of stars witness that it gets pitch black. But one doesn't lose the sight, one doesn't lose the sway! Still, the night hooks the Moon in the dark.
0
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC
The Moon in the Dark
It streams down eye to eye from the unseen but the all seeing. Far from the Mars far from the Neptune skipping all the planets hanging in space only on the cheek of earth, a drop of tear fell. Every angel in the heavens' shore has heard of this lore. It’s timeless long mesmerising beautiful. Far from the blue yonder sky hunky dory is delighting to the eyes the stunner is made to measure. A tear in the corner of the eye as if it's diagonally weighed down with the 360-degree open looking sky. As close as within a fingertip comes the Moon still, a sea is ahead forever untouchable!
0
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Eye to Eye
Hot chocolate no longer tastes like chocolate Tea gets me as drunk as wine I get about as high on cannabis as I would rosemerry or thyme The clocks in my house have stopped ticking Though I never stop to check There's a litter of stray kittens, outside my door, on the front step Although time has stopped passing And the gods have fallen asleep I still find myself laughing That I've wept to much to weep
0
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 5:17 AM UTC
Lukewarm Yellow And Blue
When the sun is a sleeping beauty at night shining on the Moon! The night is wake is a stunner far cuter. It knows no cold foot is on the move. The full wax of the starry sky keeps awake. But none could chart a line exposing a beautiful night in the veil, no one says a single word. The first one perhaps that dared to open the mouth only to be speechless to be lost for word! Not a night or two ago but since the dawning of the time!
0
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
When The Sun is a Sleeping Beauty
*The surf provides lullabies as ocean echoes roll. Too soon, the sunlight glitters as the dawn turns gray to gold. I wake and I rub my eyes beside the sandy beach My love beside me, languid lips within an easy reach. I whisper, sweet good mornings as your dreams I brush away. You stretch and yawn, responding to requests to "come and play". Lingered memories caress, of last night's rising moon with silver waves and ripples, beyond the dark lagoon. In shades of colors that mix and smudge you take your time, no rush My ******* tingle, at the thought upon my skin, spreads flush. In reverie, flutters reminisce, your wanton body on mine. Whispered moans in my ear, you ****** "I'm yours", I hear on rewind.*
0
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
About Last Night
I only took the moon, veiled in my cube; I drew her innate water off — but not for good. Now the sun can’t take its eyes off the blindfolded black moon! Off this night, the sunup is yet to unleash— the dawn, let alone the tucked-away noon!
0
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
blindfolded black moon
In swirling clouds of silver lace The disk of Luna lies concealed Across the Autumn skies they race Over this shadow realm surreal. On evening shadows now, I gaze A gentle wind swirls through the trees From depths of sleep, I watch half-dazed Thin branches stirring in the breeze. Lights flickering neath mystic skies Through gaps in trees, they shine within Entranced, my mind, I watch surprised This spectral beauty in the wind. In these dark shadows, spirits drift Translucent ghosts and dryads old From this meadow, I sense their gift Strange stories from the wood untold. Oh let me join thy sylvan fest Pale spirits of this Solstice night Before the Moon sets in the west We'll revel neath her misty light.
0
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Spirits of the Night
011717 (Para sa lahat ng mga tumatakbo, mga napilayan at napaltusan. Para sa mga gusto nang huminto pero may humihila sayo pabalik na hindi mabuo-buo ang loob **** lumisan kasi pagod ka na rin sa katatakbo. Oo, ayos lang maging totoo't amining pagod ka na. Natakot kang humarap sa mundo pagkat napuno ka ng sari't saring mga isyu sa buhay mo, kaya akala mo walang saysay ang bawat salaysay. Akala mo, wala nang nais makinig sa bawat kwento **** tila paulit-ulit na lang. Akala mo, tuldok na at wala nang kasunod pa. Wala kang matakbuhan at lagi ka na lang tumatakas. Oo, nasanay ka na at akala mo ayos lang at tama yun. Nagtatago ka sa dilim at ayaw **** lumantad, natakot kang makita yung totoong ikaw kasi ayaw **** mahusgahan o makaani ng masasakit na salita. Natakot kang magtiwala ulit pero pag lumantad ka, doon ka lang pala makalalaya. Saksi ang lahat ng nilikha sayong pag-amin na hindi mo kayang mag-isa, na ayaw mo nang mamuhay nang may paglihim. Na gusto mo nang magbago at patuloy na lumaban -- lumaban nang patas at ayaw mo nang talikuran ang nakaraan. Na gusto mo nang harapin ang mga hindi matapus-tapos na mga isyu sa buhay mo -- mga isyung tila mga sundalong kalansay buhat sa nakaraang kailangan mo nang sugpuin. Oo, kaya mo. Oo, kaya Niya sa buhay mo. Buhay ka pa, humihinga ka pa. Kaya mo yan!) Ayokong palipasin ang sandali nang pagpikit -- habang nakasandal ka sa kalangitan. Habang iniisip **** hindi mo Ako kayang abutin. Iniisip mo sigurong kinaligtaan Kita, na hindi na Kita tinitingnan pagkat mas pinili **** magtago sa dilim. Akala mo siguro'y hindi ko alam kung nasaan ka -- kung saan at paano mo isinantabi ang sarili mo kaya't hindi Ko maibuhos ang pagpapala Ko sayo. Oo, kasi umiiwas ka, umiilag ka at nilalayuan mo Ako. Hindi Ako nakikipaglaro ng Tagu-taguan sayo kung saan ay ihahatak mo ang iyong sarili palayo sa Akin at itatatak sa puso't isipang hindi ka na pupuwedeng lumantad hangga't wala pa ang liwanag. Naghihintay lang Ako, naghihintay Ako kung saan mo Ako pinasandal at sa bawat melodiya't pag-indak ng mga ulap na wari mo'y nagtatago rin Ako, noon pa ma'y inilantad Ko na ang Aking sarili sayo. Hinihintay Kitang magpasakop sa Ilaw Ko, nang magkusa kang magpataya sa Akin gamit ang Aking mga yakap. Pagkat hindi mo na kailangan pang magtago -- hindi mo na kailangang maghintay nang napakatagal para lamang masabi **** nahilom ka na. Ang paglantad mo ay siyang pagsuko mo at bagamat ito'y pagsuko, makinig ka: naging matapang ka na. Hindi mo na kailangang yumukong tangan-tangan ang hiya pagkat sa iyong pagpapakumbaba'y itataas Kita gamit ang aking Ngalan at titingala ka na. Matititigan Mo na rin Ako, makikilala mo na rin Ako. Iba't iba man ang anyo Ko'y Ako pa rin ito. May ipinapaabot lamang Ako sayo nang mas maging malapit tayo sa isa't isa. Igagawad Ko sayo ang aking lakas kasabay nang pagbitaw Ko ng mga Salita. At kahit gabi na'y mag-iilaw at mag-aapoy ka pa rin pagkat ikaw na ang magiging taya. Ikaw na ang maghahanap sa mga nawawala't magbubukas ng pintuan para sa mga nagtatago't nagpabaon na sa dilim. Wag **** tulugan ang dilim pagkat parating na ang Umaga kung kailan at kung saa'y mas magiging lantad na ang lahat. Babangon Ako hindi bilang Buwan na may pakislap na liwanag ngunit bilang Haring Araw at susugpuin ang dilim. Wala nang makapagtatago pa pagkat magiging hayag na ang lahat. Kaya Anak, wag kang matakot at ngayon pa lang ay ihayag mo ang iyong sarili sa Aking liwanag -- sa Aking liwanag na papandong sayo at uutos sa dilim nang tuluyan mo nang masilayan ang iyong sarili -- ang iyong sariling may pagpupunyagi. Maghanda ka, malapit na ang pagdating Ko. Maghanda ka, magkakasama na rin Tayo.
0
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC
Buwan
011717 (Para sa lahat ng mga tumatakbo, mga napilayan at napaltusan. Para sa mga gusto nang huminto pero may humihila sayo pabalik na hindi mabuo-buo ang loob **** lumisan kasi pagod ka na rin sa katatakbo. Oo, ayos lang maging totoo't amining pagod ka na. Natakot kang humarap sa mundo pagkat napuno ka ng sari't saring mga isyu sa buhay mo, kaya akala mo walang saysay ang bawat salaysay. Akala mo, wala nang nais makinig sa bawat kwento **** tila paulit-ulit na lang. Akala mo, tuldok na at wala nang kasunod pa. Wala kang matakbuhan at lagi ka na lang tumatakas. Oo, nasanay ka na at akala mo ayos lang at tama yun. Nagtatago ka sa dilim at ayaw **** lumantad, natakot kang makita yung totoong ikaw kasi ayaw **** mahusgahan o makaani ng masasakit na salita. Natakot kang magtiwala ulit pero pag lumantad ka, doon ka lang pala makalalaya. Saksi ang lahat ng nilikha sayong pag-amin na hindi mo kayang mag-isa, na ayaw mo nang mamuhay nang may paglihim. Na gusto mo nang magbago at patuloy na lumaban -- lumaban nang patas at ayaw mo nang talikuran ang nakaraan. Na gusto mo nang harapin ang mga hindi matapus-tapos na mga isyu sa buhay mo -- mga isyung tila mga sundalong kalansay buhat sa nakaraang kailangan mo nang sugpuin. Oo, kaya mo. Oo, kaya Niya sa buhay mo. Buhay ka pa, humihinga ka pa. Kaya mo yan!) Ayokong palipasin ang sandali nang pagpikit -- habang nakasandal ka sa kalangitan. Habang iniisip **** hindi mo Ako kayang abutin. Iniisip mo sigurong kinaligtaan Kita, na hindi na Kita tinitingnan pagkat mas pinili **** magtago sa dilim. Akala mo siguro'y hindi ko alam kung nasaan ka -- kung saan at paano mo isinantabi ang sarili mo kaya't hindi Ko maibuhos ang pagpapala Ko sayo. Oo, kasi umiiwas ka, umiilag ka at nilalayuan mo Ako. Hindi Ako nakikipaglaro ng Tagu-taguan sayo kung saan ay ihahatak mo ang iyong sarili palayo sa Akin at itatatak sa puso't isipang hindi ka na pupuwedeng lumantad hangga't wala pa ang liwanag. Naghihintay lang Ako, naghihintay Ako kung saan mo Ako pinasandal at sa bawat melodiya't pag-indak ng mga ulap na wari mo'y nagtatago rin Ako, noon pa ma'y inilantad Ko na ang Aking sarili sayo. Hinihintay Kitang magpasakop sa Ilaw Ko, nang magkusa kang magpataya sa Akin gamit ang Aking mga yakap. Pagkat hindi mo na kailangan pang magtago -- hindi mo na kailangang maghintay nang napakatagal para lamang masabi **** nahilom ka na. Ang paglantad mo ay siyang pagsuko mo at bagamat ito'y pagsuko, makinig ka: naging matapang ka na. Hindi mo na kailangang yumukong tangan-tangan ang hiya pagkat sa iyong pagpapakumbaba'y itataas Kita gamit ang aking Ngalan at titingala ka na. Matititigan Mo na rin Ako, makikilala mo na rin Ako. Iba't iba man ang anyo Ko'y Ako pa rin ito. May ipinapaabot lamang Ako sayo nang mas maging malapit tayo sa isa't isa. Igagawad Ko sayo ang aking lakas kasabay nang pagbitaw Ko ng mga Salita. At kahit gabi na'y mag-iilaw at mag-aapoy ka pa rin pagkat ikaw na ang magiging taya. Ikaw na ang maghahanap sa mga nawawala't magbubukas ng pintuan para sa mga nagtatago't nagpabaon na sa dilim. Wag **** tulugan ang dilim pagkat parating na ang Umaga kung kailan at kung saa'y mas magiging lantad na ang lahat. Babangon Ako hindi bilang Buwan na may pakislap na liwanag ngunit bilang Haring Araw at susugpuin ang dilim. Wala nang makapagtatago pa pagkat magiging hayag na ang lahat. Kaya Anak, wag kang matakot at ngayon pa lang ay ihayag mo ang iyong sarili sa Aking liwanag -- sa Aking liwanag na papandong sayo at uutos sa dilim nang tuluyan mo nang masilayan ang iyong sarili -- ang iyong sariling may pagpupunyagi. Maghanda ka, malapit na ang pagdating Ko. Maghanda ka, magkakasama na rin Tayo.
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8
*Sun flickered 'pon your eyes     scintillating as the seas, dappled with the chemistry    of a thousand swooning moons*
0
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
Flirty Sun
I laid on a dune, I looked at the sky. And saw the clouds passing by. The Moon was peeping through the clouds. To me it seemed so fake; like a plastic in a vase ! But if I had a mind, I could write about Pluto, Jupiter and Mars. I could folio on a rainbow from Venus, and have breakfast with stars. Or I could spin the galaxies, And play pinball with them. But, I felt so helpless and small; 'Immense', that is what I could say in all !
0
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Night Sky
*My moon drips silver; Gliding from its craters, flown Across galaxies Alien beings Stare at its state; leaking a Peak at what it is But the moon's just the Moon to us; nothing more than A dab to the sky How I wonder the Way y'all see it tonight; can You find the beauty?* ~Or is it just the moon?~
0
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
Silver-bleeding Moon
I don’t care how or care what you do to make it happen; I just told you make me shine so slather me in turpentine. I want the sun to shrink and the world turn dark, when she’ll no longer rise after she rests her eyes upon my fiery spark. I want the moon to swoon and raise the tides when he looks for the sun, but instead it’s my beauty that he finds. I want the stars to bow down and shower me in gold when I shine brighter and reach higher than the stars of old. I want storms to make the world stir when I walk upon their earth, no matter what it’ll take. I don’t care if it kills me; just answer my plea. I just want, so badly, to shine, so slather me in turpentine.
0
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
Turpentine
does the moon get tired? ***~for the children who never tire of moon gazing upon the dock, by the light of the fireflies, till the angels are dispatched by Nana, to sprinkle sleepy dust in their eyelashes so long and fine~*** <•> while walking the dog I no longer have, a happenstance glanceable up over the River East, there you were, mr. moon, in all your fulsomeness , surrounded by a potpourri of courtier clouds, all deferentially bowing, waving, passing past you at a demure royal speed on their way perhaps, to Rebecca's northern London, of was it south to grace of  v V v's Texas^, in any event, the cloudy ladies, all bustling and curvaceous,   all high stepping in recognition of your exalted place, Master of the Night Sky We, the word careless, poets excessive, sometimes called silly poppies, old men, left footed, still crazy after many years, most assuredly poets false all of us, without a proper prior organized thought train, outed, bludgeon blurted, an inquiry preposterous and strange, strait directed to the sombre face, to mister moon himself! tell me moon, do you ever tire? the obeisant clouds shocked as that face we all uniform know, unchanged anywhere you might go  to gaze, be looking upon it, watched the moon's face turn askew. He looking down at our rude puzzlement, with a Most Parisian askance, a look of French ahem moustacheoed disbelief, while we watched as the moon cherubic cheeks filled with airy atmosphere, then he sighed so windy winding, was it, so mountain high and river deep, that those chubby clouds were blown off course, from a starless NYC sky all the way past Victoria Station, only to stop at Pradip and Bala's mysterious land of bolly-dancing India, on their way to Sally's Bay of Manila, magic places all! Mr. Moon looked down at this one tremulous fool representative   (me) and in a voice basso beaming and starry sonorous, befitting its stellar positioning, squinting to get a closer look at the who in whom dare address him in such an emboldened manner! *Mmmmm, recognize you, you are among those who use my presence, steal my lighted beams, my silver aura, my supermoon powered light, borrow my eclipses, reveal my changeling shaped mystery without permission, only mine to give, you tiny borrowers who write that thing, p o e t r y* head and kneed, bowed and bent, I confessed (on y'alls behalf) we take your luminosity and don't spare you even a tuppence, a lonely rupee, no royalties paid to you-up-so-highness, and we hereby apologize for all the poets without exception, especially those moon besotted, only love poem writing, vraiment misbegotten scoundrels.... with another sigh equality powerful, mr moon pushed those clouds across the Pacifica, all the way to the  US's West Coast, up to Colorado, where moon-takings from the lake's reflecting light so perfect for rhyming, kayaking, and moonlight overthrowing, once more, the moon taken and begotten, nightly, as heaven- freely-granted *yes, I tire and though  here I am much beloved, usually admired though sometimes even blackened cursed, seen in every school child's drawing, in Nasa's calculations, of my influential gravitational pull, moving human hearts to love and giving Leonard a musical compositional hint, and while this admirable devotion is most delighting, would it upset some vast eternal plan, if but one of you once asked, you fiddler scribblers my prior permission, even by just, a lowly mesmerizing evening tide's tenderizing glance?* *yes, I tire, even though my cycles are variable, my shape shifting unique, my names so at variance in all your many musical sing-song dialectical languages, my sway, my tidal currents so powerful a deterrence, unlike my boring older sunny cousine  who just cannot get over how hot looking she is, I,  so more personally interesting, yet you use me as if I were a fixture, on and off with a tug of the chain string, never failing to appear, even when feeling pale yellow and orange wan, and worse, mocked as an amore pizza pie, do you ever ask how I am doing?* *yes, I tire, of my constant circuitous route that changes ever so slowly, but yet, too fast for me to make some nice human acquaintances, especially those young adoring children who give me their morn pleasurable squeals when they awake and my presence still there, a shining ghost of a guardianship protector still watching over them* *how oft in life do we presume, take for granted grants so extra-ordinary that we forget to remember the extra and see only the ordinary how oft in life do we assume, the every day is always every, until it is not, only an only a now and then, till then, is no longer a now* <> oh moon, oh moon, our richest apologies we hereby tender and surrender, our arrogance beyond belief, what can we offer in relief? silence heard loud and clear, mr. moon was gone, a satellite in motion, so our words burnt up in the atmosphere unheard we did not weep nor huff and puff, blow those clouds back to us, for we knew the extraordinary would return tomorrow, we will be ready, better another day, to prepare a lunar composition, a psalm of hallelujah praise, for mr. moon of which mr moon will never tire, for filled with the perma-warmth of our affection for the one we call mr.moon
0
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 12:43 PM UTC
does the moon get tired?
does the moon get tired? ***~for the children who never tire of moon gazing upon the dock, by the light of the fireflies, till the angels are dispatched by Nana, to sprinkle sleepy dust in their eyelashes so long and fine~*** <•> while walking the dog I no longer have, a happenstance glanceable up over the River East, there you were, mr. moon, in all your fulsomeness , surrounded by a potpourri of courtier clouds, all deferentially bowing, waving, passing past you at a demure royal speed on their way perhaps, to Rebecca's northern London, of was it south to grace of  v V v's Texas^, in any event, the cloudy ladies, all bustling and curvaceous,   all high stepping in recognition of your exalted place, Master of the Night Sky We, the word careless, poets excessive, sometimes called silly poppies, old men, left footed, still crazy after many years, most assuredly poets false all of us, without a proper prior organized thought train, outed, bludgeon blurted, an inquiry preposterous and strange, strait directed to the sombre face, to mister moon himself! tell me moon, do you ever tire? the obeisant clouds shocked as that face we all uniform know, unchanged anywhere you might go  to gaze, be looking upon it, watched the moon's face turn askew. He looking down at our rude puzzlement, with a Most Parisian askance, a look of French ahem moustacheoed disbelief, while we watched as the moon cherubic cheeks filled with airy atmosphere, then he sighed so windy winding, was it, so mountain high and river deep, that those chubby clouds were blown off course, from a starless NYC sky all the way past Victoria Station, only to stop at Pradip and Bala's mysterious land of bolly-dancing India, on their way to Sally's Bay of Manila, magic places all! Mr. Moon looked down at this one tremulous fool representative   (me) and in a voice basso beaming and starry sonorous, befitting its stellar positioning, squinting to get a closer look at the who in whom dare address him in such an emboldened manner! *Mmmmm, recognize you, you are among those who use my presence, steal my lighted beams, my silver aura, my supermoon powered light, borrow my eclipses, reveal my changeling shaped mystery without permission, only mine to give, you tiny borrowers who write that thing, p o e t r y* head and kneed, bowed and bent, I confessed (on y'alls behalf) we take your luminosity and don't spare you even a tuppence, a lonely rupee, no royalties paid to you-up-so-highness, and we hereby apologize for all the poets without exception, especially those moon besotted, only love poem writing, vraiment misbegotten scoundrels.... with another sigh equality powerful, mr moon pushed those clouds across the Pacifica, all the way to the  US's West Coast, up to Colorado, where moon-takings from the lake's reflecting light so perfect for rhyming, kayaking, and moonlight overthrowing, once more, the moon taken and begotten, nightly, as heaven- freely-granted *yes, I tire and though  here I am much beloved, usually admired though sometimes even blackened cursed, seen in every school child's drawing, in Nasa's calculations, of my influential gravitational pull, moving human hearts to love and giving Leonard a musical compositional hint, and while this admirable devotion is most delighting, would it upset some vast eternal plan, if but one of you once asked, you fiddler scribblers my prior permission, even by just, a lowly mesmerizing evening tide's tenderizing glance?* *yes, I tire, even though my cycles are variable, my shape shifting unique, my names so at variance in all your many musical sing-song dialectical languages, my sway, my tidal currents so powerful a deterrence, unlike my boring older sunny cousine  who just cannot get over how hot looking she is, I,  so more personally interesting, yet you use me as if I were a fixture, on and off with a tug of the chain string, never failing to appear, even when feeling pale yellow and orange wan, and worse, mocked as an amore pizza pie, do you ever ask how I am doing?* *yes, I tire, of my constant circuitous route that changes ever so slowly, but yet, too fast for me to make some nice human acquaintances, especially those young adoring children who give me their morn pleasurable squeals when they awake and my presence still there, a shining ghost of a guardianship protector still watching over them* *how oft in life do we presume, take for granted grants so extra-ordinary that we forget to remember the extra and see only the ordinary how oft in life do we assume, the every day is always every, until it is not, only an only a now and then, till then, is no longer a now* <> oh moon, oh moon, our richest apologies we hereby tender and surrender, our arrogance beyond belief, what can we offer in relief? silence heard loud and clear, mr. moon was gone, a satellite in motion, so our words burnt up in the atmosphere unheard we did not weep nor huff and puff, blow those clouds back to us, for we knew the extraordinary would return tomorrow, we will be ready, better another day, to prepare a lunar composition, a psalm of hallelujah praise, for mr. moon of which mr moon will never tire, for filled with the perma-warmth of our affection for the one we call mr.moon
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164
I won't promise you The moon un the sky But i will give you My heart.
0
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 4:18 PM UTC
The Moon in the Sky...
I can make you feel loved, I can take the weight of the world off your shoulder, but only if you ask me to. I can take you places, fill all your blank spaces. This love is silent, so I don't speak a word Because I am nothing like the moon. My light will never be as bright. I'm nothing that you'd admire from afar, gazing at with wonder. I thought I understood it. That I could grasp the reality of it, but you make it hard because you're the stuff and dust dreams are made of.
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
I Am Nothing Like the Moon
The moon is still hanging low since it came down so close. The seven seas dance beneath her polished feet but could never touch it. Then the intact moon, in fact, did unleash only when one popped out ahead of the rest. Down from the earth luminary Muhammad Peace be upon him pointed his finger towards it and into two halves did the Moon split! But the man wouldn’t touch it and remained with us all with every human the Moon dwarfs!
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Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
Muhammad (PBUH) So Humble
In crowds of shade, In the place near the start. There is only one face. And she said with her last ounces of blood dripping from her face, with the last gasps of air she will ever know… “There is a moon, there is a sun, and there are the stars. You were the moon among stars, I was the sun chasing you around the world.” The words poured out like my tears as I held her closer turning her chin so I can stare into her fading eyes... “I may have been with all those stars, but they’re all the same. They burn out fast, so it won’t last. You were the star of stars, and I was chasing you around the world.” I watched the glow from her face leave as it walked off with my sanity. I pulled her in closer, tightly, with all my might. I was hoping I would be able to hold her so tight that she would become apart of me.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Star of Stars
☾ Yesterday I cried to the moon as she wiped my tears away made my worries disappear so I could sleep again. ☼ Today I smile at the sun and it shines back on me, what a wonderful world to be alive; to be me.
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 8:21 AM UTC
Night Therapy
~.~.~.~ floating on the breeze swirling in a swoon laments in blue and purple are the petals of the moon waned a crescent of a flower waxed to cabbage rose now the tight held tithes sift down in airy floes lying in the grass of a dark wide-open field sweet swanning petals find me moon's offerings revealed i inhale their fragrance their light sweet perfume they cover me with kisses the petals of the moon
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Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
petals of the moon
I love the moonlight. Almost like an invitation to a far away dreamland. But even the moonlight becomes you.
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Moonlight