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Kemy Sep 2018
Can you feel it
Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit
Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift
Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift

Soft Moonlight Dust
Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust
Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ******
Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust

So gentle, as a touch to the skin
An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins
Awareness of self stirring into the constellation
Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination
Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste
Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait

Overheated friction surrendering without debates
Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate
The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn
Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn

A Cheshire moonrise
Always a sacred communion given in surprise
Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes
Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full
Paired upon, as lace meets wool
Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool

Stars In Exile
Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile
Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine
Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine

Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky
A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye
Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall
Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all

The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke
Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke
Relentless bodies bathing under the moon
Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes

Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper
Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper
Heat consumes the interior of the temple
Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble
Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon
Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon
Temperatures rising not a moment too soon

June slamming into summer’s heat
A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast
The galaxy and its spicy passion
A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
She would give them order. She would create constellations.
Thomas Pynchon
igc Nov 2015
My mother always warned me about
handsome boys with meteors for tongues
and grips resembling black holes
but never

About pretty girls with star dust in their breath
and tummies softer than the clouds floating in the sky.

The first time she spoke my name
my mind could not comprehend why
my palms had started to sweat
and my smile stretched across horizons.

The second time it did.

See, I'm not one to reach blindly into the stars,
but in that moment it seemed as if
rocket ships were built to discover the
galaxies in her eyes.

And I didn't mean to make this a running cliche
but that night I saw millions of lightyears into the future
and I'm convinced Saturn's rings would look just as stunning
on her finger.

My horizon fades as I remember her galaxy has its own sun
igniting her days with happiness and warmth
not yet found in my solar system.

My mother always told me to look before I leap
but the gravity surrounding her entire being
keeps giving the illusion
I'll land safely.
zebra Oct 2018
yahoo
its a road trip

she did the chicken head dance
hips swayed
like an evangelist of the lascivious
slicky, sticky, dicky
happily sicky
******* swallow
flooding her gullet
with spits, spats and waterfalls
for 300 gooey miles
like a Deer at a salt lick
to horney to send picture post cards

and her mouth sparkled
a regurgitating anthem of love
and a billion solar immolations
in the great
howling milky way roadtrip
*** adult
Cassian Mar 2018
Ain’t it funny
What?
How we write poems
About people
Who will never
Get to read them
To make ourselves
Feel better
silence
Crazy, scary, beautiful
Love’s a lot of things...
Funny? Yeah it’s funny
Ashly Kocher Aug 28
Climb aboard and take a ride
We soar high above the sky
Looking at the stars flying by
Soaring across the Milky Way
Just close your eyes and say
I’ve got this, my future awaits
Guide me to where I’m meant to be
I bow my head and pray
I’m thankful for my life everyday
abecedarian Jan 2015
Masters of the Universe,
tender me thy resignation,
if but for
a day,
a millennia,
no matter how measured,
any being,
you, purported supreme
or otherwise,
are tired in ways
hard to comprehend

tender me
thy responsibilities and dilemmas,
have studied your resignations,
solutions that provide no resolution...


I can do better.

Why?

not obligated by parenthood,
rules of randomness superimposed,
all I got is human kindness
the eyesight that
colors kindness,
tolerates no injustice,
milky white light,
no longer recognize

"there for the grace of God
go you and I"

have no name,
but if you need one for me,
call me
<human>
SE Reimer Mar 12
~

like an old man,
tired and cold;
weathered trunk,
bent and gaunt;
shouldering the
weight of years,
yet ever leaning
toward the stars.
these the promises
of days gone by;
his heavy eyes,
gaze to where,
the pinpoint lights,
are strewn across,
a darkened night;
beckons of what lies,
above the Milky Way;
beyond the distant veil.
hope unwavering,
in his ear;
still gently
from the stars
she’s whispering,
“patiently,
i am waiting
for you here;
again together,
soon, forever,
never parting,
darling, dear!”

~
post script.

he leaves behind the warmth and comfort, and a snow-shoed path; he presses through the night, looking for the perfect frame, to deliver light and hope amidst the darkness.  i am smitten by his passion; my awe of the eternal, renewed by his endless pursuit

a talented and dedicated astrophotography friend posted a photo of the Milky Way framed by a bent and tired, old tree, against a frozen lake.  he’s got skills i only could wish for... so i let him simply be my muse.
Cné Apr 2017
He soars high, floating in her wake
Inhaling every detail of her flowing grace
Her brushes of touch, causing him to shake
Delicate weaving hearts of leather and lace

Inspiration sails high, with her drifting in his mind
Ripples from deep emotions, she elegantly paints
Closing his eyes, entrusting her, flying blind
Together, one with the other, interlinking chains

Flickering fates of fireflies under stars aligned
Precious moments in time, worlds collide
A rendezvous in the Milky Way, by design
Consummating souls kiss passionately, ignite
to be ...
da Vinci's "Mona Lisa"
Vermeer's "Girl with the Pearl Earring"
or "The Girl from Ipanema"
only in my dreams ...
Aaron Combs Dec 2016
My beloved, tonight it is more than perfect, the zephyr winds sing
sweetly your name and the crystal stars shine like your earrings.
As the White Mountains glint gracefully, and the wind speaks
over our fingers, upon our balcony, let’s dance, my beloved.

Now over the thousand streams and star crystals in the air,
You can see our prayers fill up the milky rivers in the sky.
Below the lights of Christmas, before the blue rivers of stars,
let’s dance like the shadows and the circles of the moonlight.

Now dreams rise over like the wind and shine so easily
But time falls quickly, and worries fall away so slowly.
So let the rage of your fears dance around and under your legs.
For the world is falling asleep, calling for the colors of their dreams.

So let the tresses of your hair fall freely,
And the wind of your perfume
Soak up the flames of your heart.
Spinning like the starlight, tasting every feeling,
Let the steel blue sky and its stars fall all around you.

Dance wildly, my beloved, let's dance like the songbird who sings,
let’s dance forever, until we wash into the skyline of our dreams.
A Daily Poem
K Balachandran Dec 2018
Milky Way collides
With Andromeda; the result?
Wait, four billion years!
Danny Z Sep 2018
As Autumn approaches,
my mind drifts to the decaying leaves,
Halloween,
the cool, crisp breeze...
The communal understanding that eternal heaven comes only with
death—
that Summer must always go.
And that beloved Autumn must always usher in bitter Winter who lays the foundations
for an exalted Spring.
Oh hell...I hope for a long Autumn, I want to make it stay—
like a host who lectures his party guest for too long
so he won't look at his watch.
Oh how I need the frumpy sweaters and pumpkin heads on window sills!
Oh how I need the billowing steam from milky beige cocoa,
the misty light rain in the gray of the morning,
the high canopy of fleshy red flakes!
And echoes of children laughing as they eat candy on their way home from trick-or-treating—reminding me that life can be enjoyed
with sacred rituals and good company.
I need Autumn personified—
a cool-headed, crackling-fireplace-girl.
A quilt-maker, cloud-gazer, two-dogs-and-a-cat bookworm.
Someone comforting like oatmeal.
Someone surprising like the first day of school.
I need Autumn.
I need Autumn but it never seems to need me too.
Ali Rodriguez Oct 2018
My stargazing eyes
are in vain,
for they’re a sea
of sadness and longing.
nighttime is when my heart cries.
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2018
The world is small even heaven isn't big.
But an uncreated Word is,
an expression of love and promise!

The tale of the beginning
the tale of the end without the ending.
Soon God said it 'Qun' be
Bang it couldn't be bigger indeed.

Everything small and big the complete
creations panache came to be so big!
Body is small the soul came in the front.
Every soul banged explored at once.
All heard the same Word it was only one
that sets the tone for the first to the last.
So sweet it took everyone’s heart!

The death wouldn’t touch the soul
that already died but couldn’t die.
Revived there and then instantly,
hearing the 'Qun' the uncreated melody!
Crooned up even through the dead-end
surged up to the other side of the black hole.
Like a waxing Moon passed over, crossing
the asleep body in the shadow, yet in the making!

Adam was yet to be in the body.
It wasn’t in the physical element
that by no means could hear it!
Unlike the abyss soul there
the sea can take a dip.
The cloud spills and rains
but only to revert back to the sea
showering the shallow body.

Unable to resist it, the first big bang
didn’t take place in a physical body!
Not in the star, milky way or in the galaxy
nor an orb is as scientific as the human body!

He said ‘Qun’ again and the first big bang
on the matter takes place in Fathima’s joint
interlacing her live soul and pre-design body!
It cut through the irrational pi in between
the soul and body now gel in melody!
So that the grand manifestation in bloom
shall continue to resonate perpetuating the body.
With pure love without a condition without a boundary.

Nature that was yet to be, gets a mirror in its entirety.
and bang big upon hearing ‘Qun’ be, says the Almighty.
It comes to be and shall perish only to be an eternal body!
Wass Apr 2014
The burning flowers underline the sunset and 
Dash before the fire (k)night catches them.
Ripe berries cheaply
tremble 
but hopefully their vitality won't burst the pulp pulsating
beneath.

Crumbling flowers
crumb the floor
And Prisms of catching silver refract rose quartz and petal
and crimson
dust.

Bejewelled in Scarlet,
the air,
as the (k)night approaches, grows colder,
Unsure of whether he will bring
solace or strife.

In his chariot
he flies faster than the bees which buzzed around the fruit flutes
in the morning and among the trumpeting bluebells.

Stars fleck the (k)night
like freckles
and the milky ways resins stain his spouting steams lovely. 

The (k)nights kind onyx reaches his crescendo and the floating moon danced drowsily through the cloud's spiralled tendrils

Which diminish as dawn
approaches
so their Tentilcles
droop to crinkled tissue paper sheathed in pink.

And so the (k)night
rides on into
The frivolous sunrise.
The lowing, glossy calves
in sage beside the ***** fields
cast a beloved ambience 

As though
we are safe
in the knowledge
that the sky will remain
forever
topaz and the leaves
forever emerald.
Hirondelle Nov 2018
Across a milky trace; time’s silent pace,
glides a silver face in her lacy grace.
Beyond the dark sea, atop the tall tree,
her iv’ry journey; a silk skeined story.

If her ancient sheen has always been clean-
no sin on her skin has ever been seen-,
then her pearly grin forever serene
must be good souls’ kin solely Night can bring.

Can’t she dark clouds strain specklessly humane,
and peek through a sea of plumy champagne?
Or at a bleak night on a slumbery diet,
seep with silv’ry spright in all strife and slight?

As her spectral tress drapes me I possess
silver whispers in her cascade’s caress.

©️Hirondelle (24/11/2018)
When the murk and mud of the global dumpyard coils back after nightfall and the mistress of the night takes stage, I bathe my eyes and soul with her impeccable light... listen to her silver story and let her silken silver hair wind its way around my frame, charming and possessing me. She is my very special date, and I know when my Night comes one day, my soul will be a strand back in her spectral tresses among its silvery kindred.

A new conjecture? Imagination has no end, and poetry is eternity.

Hear the silver whisper, and don’t wallow too much in the mud. Let the moon cleanse your spirit;

through your eye,
through your ear
with her silver hair.
King Panda Jul 2017
you are my animal, and
I am your whip.
what exists between us
is only dust—a milky
center of blood
tessellating
with
heart cells.

I’d hide in your
briefcase and
be smuggled across
the boarder as
a cheese knife
if only you’d look
at me—your animal,
my whip sending
flakes of fresh flesh

midway
along
magnets…but

be careful.
once you catch
crack of my sting

there is no going back.
vanessa ann Feb 2018
i found myself last night whispering your name under the shield of my duvet, willing myself to pronounce every syllable of your name to the darkness of my room. i looked up to the plastic stars on my ceilings, remainders of the childhood i once had, and said it:

“yoon. jeong. han”

every syllable clear and true.

and it occurred to me,
how beautiful your name was.

“yoon” — the moon and the whistles of the wind, lulling me into dreamland.
“jeong” — a masculine edge.
and finally, the concluding “han” that returns it into its original softness.

clean milky way.

i’ve never expected to fall for a boy with your name. but i’ve always been fascinated with the universe and all the bright lights surrounding our blue planet. so i guess, it is only fitting for me to fall for a boy whose name means “clean milky way”

so i whispered your name over and over into the night.
yoon jeonghan.
yoon jeonghan.
yoon jeonghan.
until the taste of it becomes as familiar as the quiet.
and i swear, i saw the plastic stars on the ceiling growing brighter with every syllable.

i whispered and whispered until i fell into morpheus’ charm, and awoke with a new realization:

*your name is my favorite sound.
to the boy who made me feel

{or alternatively — "it's 3 in the morning and you still haunt my mind so i decided to write this piece i wouldn't call poetry and post it on a poetry website for hundreds to see"}
Kevin J Taylor Nov 2016
Stumbling, tumbling, jumbling space
Riffles and ripples in ecstatic grace
Yet barely persists
To mark where we've been

(We leaping!
We laughing
We lunging unseen!)

And roosters behind us
Galactacious spray
That glistens and glitters
The whole Milky Way!
.

Roosters means the action of forming a rooster-tail like the spray of water behind a speed boat.
Galactacious is a ***** word. Made from Galaxy and lact- meaning milk.

.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Hg Jun 2018
i keep on seeing stars
as freckles
on people's faces

i ask them ain't it cool
that you were born
with constellations?

but to them their spots of sun
represent
insecurities

they think they need makeup
to cover up
their galaxies

like one person I know
looks like ice cream
that's been peppered

the dots on her arm
come from her grandma
who's a leopard

but she says she hates them
she calls them
imperfections

cause back in school
kids mocked her for
her speckled complexion

a bully named georgina
used to call her
a giraffe

more girls joined in
and even then
her friends began to laugh

internalizing this
like a black hole
inside her mind

the dots of her
self confidence
had never been aligned

then a tear
streamed down her cheek
she sniffled and shivered

i'd never seen her sad
didn't know what to do
so I poked her

poked her face to show
my favorite star
below her eye

told her when we speak
it's like i'm talking
to the sky

and every time she blinks
that freckle vanishes
from sight

so every time she cries
a star goes missing
from the night

shame is taught
to many of us
at such an early age

comparing our looks
to everyone
as if we're made the same

girl you are spectacular
no matter of
heredity

your tears are shooting stars
made up of cosmic ice
and chemistry

then i saw
that freckle twinkle
right below her eye

skip ahead
to when i saw
that twinkle fade and die

she said
you’re taking off
into another world

that university’s
another universe
of girls

she said
experiment
i don’t want you to wait

I should have seen it coming
from a mile
milky way

you wish upon a star
To find someone
that’s wishing too

maybe one day
i’ll meet that one
but i wished it was you

i gotta say goodbye
i guess it ain't
the time or space

it just ain't right
that every night
i still will see your face
©Hg
zebra Apr 2017
"Claim me,"
she whispers in a plea
"claim my soul as I wilt"
Crimson lips parted,
head thrown back
in ecstatic ache
jugular bared
she needs to feel
that sharp -edged love,
skin and barriers broken
as she melts into
the underworld
of a new grace
a magenta cry into
the inky sky
sacred silence penetrated
as only gasps are heard
milky ******* decorated
with red liquid ribbon,
his nourishment,
her demise
******* pierced with
beads of her sunset life flow
as he ***** and bites...
and howling
into heaven's delicious gate,
she writhes
Her soul dissolving
into his night
and as his spirit
absorbs her vermilion soul
their power rises,
black as coal
…………….
your lips
stick black  
sanguine smile
tremulous murmurs
oh happy blood blossom of deaths surrender
sacrificial lamb
cats sparrow entranced
thighs on fire
sobbing from a thousand needled kisses
******* tearing blood
each wound a weeping mouth licking
milky white alter of cold stone
saturated alizarin rust
legs wide
feet and ******* trussed
in chains and drenched rags
for cruelties arrow
o crimson queen,
pomegranate half eaten
mouth smudge black
agape
snake tongue dancing
through cherry lips twisted
darkened eyes of fire and blood
a wash in devils incense
beloved veiled
in evils cradle
bind not the demons kiss
then face down my love upon the crypt of mist
black heavens gate
pupa
vampires bate
a blood moon shaking
a scourge you are now
goddess of pleasures wretched
in the Tuileries of the abyss
consort
your every piercing fang
duck tail ****
a boiling cauldron
desire
spills out

dark cupid witch
legs tied to throat
devil ***** twitch
******* in a mote
ive got the itch
feet scorched in rope
hot ******* *****
hells dark pope

vampiress *****
dark girl feeding
the sun is no more
loves the bleeding
****** horror
Tammy M Darby Sep 2013
A goddess the tantalizing moon
Sat demurely
Beneath her father the universe's skies
Gaia did grace the living orb
Revolving green
When sunset sought dark hours
With pale milky beams


This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby
g
Hirondelle May 12
Give her name to the moon...
you won’t be lost in a dark monsoon...
     Give her name to the moon...
     you won’t shoot tears like stars’ doom...
Give her name to the moon...
you won’t wallow under a milky rheum...
     Give her name to the moon...
     you won’t be lost in a stardust spume...

     At night, out on a lonely lane,
     a silhouette  beyond a fog hazed pane,
     damp in the cloudless, clammy rain,
     huffing his toils in fortune’s reign,
     would curl and slip down that foggy frame
     like his dreams had once down the drain
     and look with doused eyes whilom aflame,
     ((comets and pearled cheeks all the same))
     if not the moon he called her name
     and wiped away the night’s sombre shame...

     If not the moon he called her name!
     If not the moon he called her name!
    
Well, the moon etched her breath on big a wave.
     Silver enshrined but once sombre a slave
     did he heave and crest, then prostrate and rave.
     In devotion, woonwashed pearls did he lay
     at her feet on that moon gilded bay.

     Fizzing sobbing smiles in her silver sway,
     ((how he still))
     in frothy ringlets, does pool and pray
     that her lustre with him will always stay!

So,
     ‘The moon is thy name,’ shall I say?
     ‘The moon is thy name,’ shall I say,
       and evermore at thy feet stay?

©️Hirondelle (12/05/2019)
Love is an ineffably beautiful thing. No matter how much we sail far into imagery, scale up verse, dive into philosophy, rocket off to starry symbolism or divine on melody, our appetite and curiosity will be but whetted! We live in poetry, so do we love, my fellow poets.
CautiousRain Mar 2015
My heart lay in a cloudy, milky state,
its cold, harsh pressure building up within,
leaving me to gaze, masking purpose.

My eyes, dull, hid the fervor,
encasing it in between my lips,
locking them together; smiling.

My breath remains methodical,
sweet melodies juxtaposed,
along my ears and lungs.

Feet pacing, heart staying,
I cannot last; ba-thump,
my hands begin to tingle.

One look, no words;
head spinning away,
there is no closure.
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