"moonchild" poems
Last night I dreamt I dug
a tunnel through the moon
and as she spun around the earth
I used it as my room
I'd sit upon the edge
dangling my feet out over the stars
tossing pebble stones and such
in aim of hitting mars.
© A. Leigh
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
She was the dream that never ended
Her garden was always well tended
Technicolor flowers and trees
Birds and bees.
But in the distance the shadowman danced
when the sun set in the sky
He spoke about the whereabouts of the moonchild
Their child together
A link they couldn’t sever
For they were divorced and divided
The shadows grew when the moonchild rose
The shadowman had the night, she had the day
But the shadowman kept the child from her
if the child chose it would be midnight forever
and the shadowman was manipulative and clever
His son he always spoilt with many gifts
but his son the moonchild sleeps and dreams of his mother
He will never hurt her or any other.
But sometimes on an eclipse
the moonchild steals the suns light
and his father and mother fight
But he always gives it back.
because the light of the Sun is blinding to the moonchild
and he has to let it go
So the sun will again glow.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 7:23 AM UTC
I wanted to be the wind.
I wanted to be the wind flowing through each strand of his hair. I wanted to be the moon, bathing him in my light. I wanted to be his wisdom. I wanted to be the blush in his cheeks. The chill that traveled down his spine and the warmth of his soul. I wanted to be the itch underneath his skin when his thoughts were troubled. I wanted to be his consolation; and his isolation. I wanted to be the blur in his drunken vision. I wanted to be his dreams. I wanted to be his fixation in the night sky and the sweet seduction of his daylight. I wanted to be the plant that he watered with his kindness. I wanted to be the glass that tasted his lips, the breath that escaped his lungs and the oxygen that flowed through his blood. The stardust sticking to the walls of his veins. I wanted to be his lingering melancholy. I wanted to be the tears that once had the chance to live inside his eyelids. I wanted to be every door handle that his fingertips caressed. I wanted to be the saliva resting on his tongue. I wanted to be each and every heartbeat that kept him alive for a moment longer.
Can you understand?
Because I can’t.
I wanted to be the life that he questioned, the life that left him speechless. I wanted to be the information that he craved.
I wanted to be everything.
I wanted to be her.
I wanted to be me.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
I'm that guy
I'm that girl
i'm on the sidelines i see the world
i watch the plays
i sit through days
take in rays and analyze your ways
I am the one asking: how do we survive?
Don't judge the scars, you fake-tanned sheep
I've become this strong-willed Moonchild without you and your magazines
I don't need your weight-loss tips and and 25 new *** positions
So I drowned for awhile.....
we all gotta sink
hit bottom
then we can push off the rocks, break free of the waves and fly
Or maybe we make it to the surface only to float for a time and an aeon
Who will judge us for the time we spend on ourselves?
DO NOT
EVER
Become stagnant
Let your life ebb and flow
NEVER BE LONELY
your strength is within you
reach inside oh my darling reach for you own soul
don't wait for someone else to tie their strings to your beating heart
and tug
do it yourself.
you are only you
your strength and your quick wit
your lightness and love of the darker humors
the gentle touches, soft weeping
the lines of your body
and your eyes brightening when they recognize my face
You are everything you were meant to be at this moment
But in the next
EVOLVE
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 5:49 AM UTC
Moonchild
they call me
cause i lie awake
at night
and
talk to the
moon
Not daring
to drift
away
for my mind
scares
me
The
moon
will be my
sweet
salvation
The precious
moon
who keeps me company
when my mind
is ready
to
self
implode
and no one
can piece me
together
The
moon
will watch over me
like i
never
could
like no one
ever
would
My home
is a
crater
on the moon
where i am
shielded
from
my own
mind
They call me
moonchild
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 1:56 PM UTC
Mirrors are a powerful medium for returning energy, just like a medieval message in a bottle.
Wrap me in your desolate womb, oh barren mistress of death.
Do you really need to be sworn in?
Sky above and earth below, feel my raging aphrodisiac amidst this eclipse of tantric rites.
***** my horoscope in this zodiac, and grow beyond this medieval heresy.
Magick is the science or art of effecting change by the conformity of the will; and you are a sacred star in the night sky.
Let us scribe incantations beyond desert horizons where Kali displays her direction of seasons.
Spring is in the East, Summer is in the South, Autumn is in the West and Winter is in the North.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
You are a strong, beautiful girl
You have grit, patience, and great empathy
Friends will come and go
They're flighty that way
But you will always have those traits
That make you the person I want to be
You will always be an angel
Admired by all who truly matter
But most importantly
You must never forget
You will always be
My Moonchild
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
*The quake of oblivious control,
aimlessly sends me spiraling.
I feel a break in the tumble,
Realizing the forged signatures from
Those who seek calculated risks.
I am only a human,
With this life thrown at me in a hurry.
Stars march & chant.
Revisiting the nights shallow freedom.
Displaying cuts of bleeding light,
A treasure to those who see its dance.
I have come far for a drink,
Of essence.
The book, we share on the darkest gravel,
Having featherweight ambitions.
The mornings betray my dreaming.
My flaws accept the rituals.
Whatever will, I have left,
Becomes a map.
A velvet initiation, to wonder again.
To seek the ways of life,
That many call disappointing,
& Pointless.
For it is I, who sees a ribbon on true beauty.
Each day following a thread to a lake.
Following the sequenced whispers,
Telling me, I am Moonchild,
Giver; of redemption.*
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
the moon rises and soothes my heated skin
red and blistered from the sun’s brutal eyes
harsh and judging giving me no blink of a break
a gentle touch caresses and heals my peeling cheeks
staring directly into such hot eyes leaves a piercing feeling through the back of my skull and an orange glow over my pupil
the moon’s soft glow allows my eyes to open wide with wonder no fear of being blinded
warm pleasant air keeps me from freezing underneath that pretty white glow
in daylight the wind is vicious and whips me in the face hurting where I’m already burned
a whole night for me to heal
only to be blistered again
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
Let the moonlight shine upon me,
For I am its unusual child.
I do not fear the dark,
I do not fear the unknown wild.
Let the moonlight shine upon me,
For I am its unusual child.
The blood that flows in me is a faint silver,
The depths of the crates are my solitary eyes.
When I look for Mother in the night above me,
I am numbed by a strangely easing sensation,
Only you can understand me,
Only you can understand the desolation.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
We all die eventually.
And some of us really age.
This strong sense that you must make the most of the day.
Remembering that it can be our last.
But we shouldn't live in fear. Just live it up and soak it in. Whatever it may be.
Be a little devil.
Or a caring friendly moody being.
Ruled by the moon.
It shines down on gloom
A sort of nourishing lighting.
Soothing the mind like
Cosmic skies
Creating and destroying
Bits of the heart and mind.
Roll through this space.
Orbit suns and moons.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 10:56 PM UTC
Free as a rhythm getting lost at sea,
There is no deeper shelter than the element that rules me.
Melting in a pool of veracity, truth.
Seduced by the gaze, the allure of you.
The depths of us, unspoken exchange,
Deranged as your mind tries to rearrange.
Meet cute. Lips meet.
Projected on our silver screen.
Moonchild daring to be a Scorpion Queen.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
i'll make believe
i never saw your face
beneath the moon
but that glow will forever
haunt me
and i'll long for you
every n i g h t
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Oh moonchild,
it is safe now,
Unfold your layers till you discover the stardust and ecstasy residing within.
You are but a speck in the creation of life,
born of constellations your mind cannot fathom,
existing parallel to each equinox awaited,
although the vast is mystified and serene,
remember oh moonchild,
you are deserving of the radiance you shine onto others.
Unfold your layers and look inward for there you will find,
the glories the skies contain confide the very heart which you thought benign.
Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 4:06 PM UTC
Open your mind
Open your eyes
Your heart
Now arise
Wake up Moonchild
The dawn is drawing near
Rub the crust from the crevices of your eyes
The world won’t wait
Not for you
Don’t let it’s turning make you sick
This is your wakeup call
Your gonging alarm clock
Sitting beside your bed head
The race is about to begin!
Ready…set…GO!
There are no winners
There are no losers
Take your time
But run well
All in stride
All in time
There’s no finish line
You’re done when you wish
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
I am the moonchild
That roams this earth
I am the moonchild
That bathes in the night's inky depths,
In moon-lit rivers
I am the moonchild that haunts your dreams
And in your wake
I am the moonchild
Who makes you feel more than just pain
I am the moonchild
Who runs wildly through the night
As if I were a young child a circus
I am the moonchild
Love me for who I am, basking in the moon light
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 12:56 AM UTC
By Arcassin B.
I've blown my heart away many times,
I've set my goals and owned my peace of mind,
featuring this ***** mirror and my enormous talent for ghosting,
playing with the illusion that if I could play off in this matrix I'll become
too lucid , sink into the floor and let my mind erase itself
like the self destruct sequence shaping my reality as I see fit
minus the weakness and the weekends of not having a care
about the pieces of any puzzle,
especially those rainy days I use to endure,
I'd tap myself and look outside,
mad little man out the door,
now when I walk outside I see snow,
froze my hate to the core,
I let God carry out my anger, see,
my accomplishments will flourish, this is where I really wanna be,
hope I don't get discouraged, in this life.
©abpoetry2020
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 2:30 PM UTC
Pans unborn moonchild
Of the mind wasted away
Alive inside me
never to disclose
the contents of the soul worn
like a dagger up the sleeve
for the pain and strife
of mere existence luddite
nature cares for none
The red horned demon
The satyr, spitting fireball
Whisky in the glass
The demented love
Bile in the glass case awakes
When least expected
And you watch your life
As it passes before you
And you have to laugh
on the pitch of life
Wasted, livid, energy
In your empty room
oh! seraphim why
do I cling to your tough spine
when nirvana awaits
suckling for comfort
to your breast indecision
grafted to your love
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
BY Arcassin B.
Spoken words are beyond my calibur,
but I , can occur in different places,
placing my mind in others and thrusting my
anger forward tactically finding out that
emotions can be stored below my tough exterior,
as long you don't hit hard below the waste,
and further taste my anguish or demise,
its not you , your ignorance is what I despise,
I turn light into dark in my despair when I
fall apart,
entitled to my own failures looking back at my life like
who was I compared to if its not you?
I will make my mark in this pointless corrupted country,
running in and out of the spirit realm,
seeing my true purposes and letting myself grow.
©abpoetry2020
Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 12:33 PM UTC
Moonset slips beneath a steel sea;
crescent sailing on the starless deep.
I sketch the hallowed sky in my dream.
Sunrise lifts from under the hills,
music stirs as dawnlight spills.
Horizon bursting,
a choir rehearsing
requiems for fallen friends.
Moonchild in the lap of a pine
singing for the wordless divine.
She wanders on the waves of her mind.
Feb 17, 2024
Feb 17, 2024 at 10:27 AM UTC
I know you can do much better
So stop over thinking and pull yourself together
You'll be anxious and frightened
But with prayers, your path will be lightened
Dont base your success to other people
Dont make yourself look so small
Your fate revolves in your hand
So be firm to where you stand
Conquer all your fears in this world
And life will never be that cold
Start building confidence
And plan success in silence
Follow what your heart really desires
Speak out the real things that inspires
Be someone whom you thought you would be
Cause its not yet too late to say "thats the real me!"
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 6:44 AM UTC
i too find the lack of colour in the winter bouquet
demeaning, but with so much colour missing,
i find the remains of colour
much approving, that the remains can be exfoliating,
sharpening on the smithy hoof
in arthur's sneeze for new years'
celebration,
and too the sunlight accompanied
with beer for the encore of uninhibited laughter
at the sorrow of hebrew tonguing
h & a
(turned witty that combination did,
or slapstick the donkey with mel brooks’
gags shaming adolf chaplin; for care of a freudian couch),
as not akin to knitting laughter
but simply with index codices make
vectors and arrows of fingers turned into eyes...
with beer the encore until resolved serious
with a track-list of post hippy reflection:
beginning with 21st schizoid man (+ mirrors),
through *i talk to the wind, epitaph
(+ march of no reason) and tomorrow and tomorrow,
moonchild (+ the dream and the illusion);*
and ending with *the court of the crimson king
(+ return of the fire witch, the dance of the puppets).*
i once made a tape, odd thing in the 21st century
to make tapes for other people with a chance
personal reunion, as based on the novel high
fidelity by nick hornby...
but i did and she said... i walked at 5am through
oxford street emptied by an apocalypse, and the song
epitaph resonated like birdsong.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC