"moonless" poems
You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Black is the color beyond all colors.
Black is the void,
The void of my heart,
The void of my soul.
Black is the feeling of everything;
Black is the feeling of nothing.
The smell of death is the color black.
When you feel overloaded with emotion,
Yet, you feel no emotion at all...
That is black. Oh so very black.
Fear is black when it clothes you mind;
You can't even think as it overcomes you.
Black is not intensity, but intensity itself.
Black is what controls us all;
Black is the feeling of being controlled.
Black is the color of shadows,
Shadows of a moonless night.
Black is what makes us shiver without the wind.
Black is the only thing that won't leave us in the end.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 10:40 PM UTC
.
*1
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plunge into her
2
We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us
3
Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming
4
Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked
5
Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed
6
Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven
7
In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss
8
Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick
9
As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies
10
Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower
11
Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet
12
In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air
13
We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips
14
She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds*
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
O mistress, your gentle eyes were a warm angel’s song.
Your glazed almond skin was soft like a virgin's touch.
Bound me in chains of desire and sin in your love dungeon.
Your euphonic voice calls out to me like a raven’s tweet.
I licked my lips and pleasured my *******
My face flushed like a thorny rose.
I reached out to caress her tendril twine of hair.
She whispered sweet nothings that filled the air.
O mistress! Our love is wrong.
In the heat of this forbidden love
we embrace the eternal night,
sharing a kiss in the moonless delight.
My body’s a canvas, craving her touch
I yearn for her sweet **********
Pain and pleasure whips me to shape.
My love for her will always creep.
O mistress, come close to me.
Print your skin on my pale flesh.
Prepare me for my best nightmare.
Where you invite worship for this time.
You stab me with love like a swordswoman
and make art out of my darkness.
No demon or god can tear us asunder.
There is still beauty in this immoral hunger.
O mistress, I submit every ounce of my soul to you.
For you have your way with me for eternity.
The bellowing echoes of ****** rumors
will never take my love for you away.
May 4, 2024
May 4, 2024 at 10:06 PM UTC
.
1
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plung into her
2
We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us
3
Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming
4
Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked
5
Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed
6
Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven
7
In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss
8
Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick
9
As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies
10
Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower
11
Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet
12
In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air
13
We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips
14
She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds
.
Aug 15, 2021
Aug 15, 2021 at 12:53 AM UTC
you always had a pull on me;
you were my moon,
and I, your tide
many moonless nights have passed since the moment you decided it was over
the waves cease to crash against the shore
stagnant
the vast, black ocean
waits for someone to wade in
swim around
and make her feel whole
again.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:48 AM UTC
Maniacal thugs
Swap juices with sweet angels
On a moonless night.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 9:15 PM UTC
Gaunt in gloom,
The pale stars their torches,
Enshrouded, wave.
Ghostfires from heaven's far verges faint illume,
Arches on soaring arches,
Night's sindark nave.
Seraphim,
The lost hosts awaken
To service till
In moonless gloom each lapses muted, dim,
Raised when she has and shaken
Her thurible.
And long and loud,
To night's nave upsoaring,
A starknell tolls
As the bleak incense surges, cloud on cloud,
Voidward from the adoring
Waste of souls.
7.2k
Stop scrubbing so hard, your
skin isn't going to get much lighter.
And all those skin-bleaching creams?
I suggest you throw them away.
They are of no use to you.
Your skin is as dark as the
moonless sky, but that doesn't
change the fact that your smile
is as bright as the sun. You
are beautiful, but you don't seem
to realize it.
I see the boys with skin as
pale as milk and eyes as blue
as your Mama's favourite
teacup. I see how they whisper
to each other and chuckle as you walk
by. I see how they follow
you home and tug at your
rough hair, setting free a
flood of slurs. I've seen
you sink to the ground,
bury your face in your hands
and weep.
You try to hang around the
girls with light skin, but they look at
you oddly and tell you
to return to where you came from.
The weeping continues.
You go home and tell your
Mama about the mean kids
at school, but she kisses her teeth
and tells you that she doesn't have
time for your nonsense, maybe you
should stick around your own kind.
Precious girl, walk into your
bathroom and stand
before your mirror.
What do you see?
Find one detail about
yourself that you love, no
matter how long it takes.
You want nothing more
than to be loved, but how can somebody
else love you if you don't even love yourself?
Embrace your darkness, and
be at peace with yourself.
Darling, your skin is black gold,
and one day, somebody will
dig deep enough to discover it.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
After the wolves and before the elms
the bardic order ended in Ireland.
Only a few remained to continue
a dead art in a dying land:
This is a man
on the road from Youghal to Cahirmoyle.
He has no comfort, no food and no future.
He has no fire to recite his friendless measures by.
His riddles and flatteries will have no reward.
His patrons sheath their swords in Flanders and Madrid.
Reader of poems, lover of poetry—
in case you thought this was a gentle art
follow this man on a moonless night
to the wretched bed he will have to make:
The Gaelic world stretches out under a hawthorn tree
and burns in the rain. This is its home,
its last frail shelter. All of it—
Limerick, the Wild Geese and what went before—
falters into cadence before he sleeps:
He shuts his eyes. Darkness falls on it.
6k
I sit on my back stoop,
alone in the moonless dark
lit only by a window glowing
in my neighbor's new spa room.
Spikey tropical plants.
backlit by warm yellow light
are all I can see
from my vantage point
only yards away.
But my imagination runs
to visions of two lovers
delighting in their newest acquisition,
bathing in clouds
of fragrant steam,
a couple still together.
They have each other,
while I sit alone,
me minus you.
Eileen Auger
4/4/2010
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
We are each our own moon.
Charismatic souls reflecting sunlight,
As if to illuminate a room,
We glow against black, void; an endless night.
Like a caterpillar to a butterfly, emerging from a tight knit cocoon,
Spreading each wing, confidently slicing the evening air…taking flight.
Or even a flower freshly bloomed on a midsummer’s afternoon.
The moon: a flower, silently smiling despite the plight.
Aside from what each day shuffles in; each night simmers out
No matter how often we feel we have lost ourselves…
Or leave way to fill our heads with doubt.
With recurring assumptions of a worldwide redemption:omnipotent stealth.
Needn't some take longer than others to sprout?
Staring blankly into a mirror, or a moonless night sky: hungry for answers, yet facing an empty shelf.
However, that doesn't infer we embark on a divergent route.
Simply due to lack of clarity, lack of reasoning behind each card dealt.
With that in mind,
Just as the moon,true colors may dwindle…they may fade, yet in essence are always there.
Even on a cloudy day, or when the sunshine is at its peak…and just as well for the blind.
Full moon, half moon, new moon…waxing, waning: dynamic phases the night sky shares.
Moon phases;moody faces…natures way of emphasizing personality defined.
Notwithstanding the dark side, each moon may wear.
Like a guilty pleasure manifesting in a secret shrine,
We all suppress a certain side; to pompous to face reality genuinely bare.
Fragments of our faces may always be hidden,
But there’s one thing that will never absorb into the eclipse: emotion.
Some figure each phase, each wave of vibes … simply fate already written.
Devils advocate begs to differ… let your mind emit all distraction and harmonize with the ocean.
Effervescent rays,warm barrels in which emotions, old and new, have ridden.
Chaotically contradicting thoughts, pulling and pushing, creating the paradox of serene commotion.
A world of words from each moon face: a beautiful encryption.
We are each our own moon, written in the waves, compelled by life’s devotion.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
within the solitude of the dreadful span
of the blackened and bowed sky
the deep withered grass bends in the moonless dark
quieting the cold and murmuring earth
hushing her into fitful sleep
the air is hard
and the wind lacerates the night
razor incisions left behind
in the icy flesh of obsidian hours
open wounds howl like wolves
on the trail of prey in flight
I hunger for you
under the restless stars
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 11:29 PM UTC
Spreading bliss
Watching the glittery night
Feeling light
Inhaling the fresh air
With our loved ones
Listening the rythmic music of the hearts
Heading towards a colourful
Serene clean world
In silence....
Under the twinkling starlight
In a moonless night
Having a visual treat...
This diwali, burn the evils,
Let's bring the change!
This diwali, burst the ego,
Let's be the change!!
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
I have no more poems left in me,
The moonless sky has taken them all away,
And because stars are beautiful I let them be,
Hoping they would light up your way.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
All I want to do to you
Is make you feel alive
All I want to give you is a reason to survive
All you seem to ask of me is derision
Hate and scorn
I don't want you to hate yourself just to be my little *****
You're giving me dead love
You're giving me cold ***
Romantic as a cadaver covered in dirt and sweat
You give me dead love
You give me cold ***
Beautiful as a suicide victim giving in to death
All I try to fill you with is passion, burning bright
And yet your eyes stay darker than a silent, moonless night
All you seem to need of me is abuse
And carnal war
I can't stand to hurt you
But I need a little more
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
and not for me but for my dad
the father which, for granted had
taken by his family,
both his sons and wife known lovingly
by the single candles light
the messages I've scribbled down
silent, they read, and so despite
the darkness of a moonless night
Who we are now, being the toll taken
on behalf and of each moment acquired
transformations take place, until we cease to be
in the positions symptomatic of what we desired.
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 10:54 PM UTC
#120715 #4:30PM
Just a thought,
To where **everything’s ******
Eyes in leer – flameless –
You are Beauty.
Open eyes, open skies
Open realm, open lies.
White as snow, I was
You’re the apple in spells.
As I lived, I have died too.
With rustic munitions,
You gashed my heart out.
With your circles in hoax,
You murdered me.
A sunless morning,
A moonless night,
An air so humid,
An unsalted oceans.
For in time so impeccable,
Befuddling in misdemeanors,
You’re the Beauty who’s a Beast.
Just in time,
Forgiveness is an erudite.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
I want more than a broken town with cracked windows and broken locks.
I want more than these broken promises and half assed excuses.
I want more than sunless mornings and moonless nights.
I want to finally wake up.
Wake up with you again.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
From love's first fever to her plague, from the soft second
And to the hollow minute of the womb,
From the unfolding to the scissored caul,
The time for breast and the green apron age
When no mouth stirred about the hanging famine,
All world was one, one windy nothing,
My world was christened in a stream of milk.
And earth and sky were as one airy hill.
The sun and mood shed one white light.
From the first print of the unshodden foot, the lifting
Hand, the breaking of the hair,
From the first scent of the heart, the warning ghost,
And to the first dumb wonder at the flesh,
The sun was red, the moon was grey,
The earth and sky were as two mountains meeting.
The body prospered, teeth in the marrowed gums,
The growing bones, the rumour of the manseed
Within the hallowed gland, blood blessed the heart,
And the four winds, that had long blown as one,
Shone in my ears the light of sound,
Called in my eyes the sound of light.
And yellow was the multiplying sand,
Each golden grain spat life into its fellow,
Green was the singing house.
The plum my mother picked matured slowly,
The boy she dropped from darkness at her side
Into the sided lap of light grew strong,
Was muscled, matted, wise to the crying thigh,
And to the voice that, like a voice of hunger,
Itched in the noise of wind and sun.
And from the first declension of the flesh
I learnt man's tongue, to twist the shapes of thoughts
Into the stony idiom of the brain,
To shade and knit anew the patch of words
Left by the dead who, in their moonless acre,
Need no word's warmth.
The root of tongues ends in a spentout cancer,
That but a name, where maggots have their X.
I learnt the verbs of will, and had my secret;
The code of night tapped on my tongue;
What had been one was many sounding minded.
One wound, one mind, spewed out the matter,
One breast gave **** the fever's issue;
From the divorcing sky I learnt the double,
The two-framed globe that spun into a score;
A million minds gave **** to such a bud
As forks my eye;
Youth did condense; the tears of spring
Dissolved in summer and the hundred seasons;
One sun, one manna, warmed and fed.
4.2k
.
*1
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plung into her
2
We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us
3
Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming
4
Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked
5
Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed
6
Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven
7
In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss
8
Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick
9
As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies
10
Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower
11
Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet
12
In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air
13
We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips
14
She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds*
.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC
A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday.
Why wilt thou go, my harassed heart,
What thought, what scene invites thee now?
What spot, or near or far,
Has rest for thee, my weary brow?
There is a spot, mid barren hills,
Where winter howls, and driving rain;
But if the dreary tempest chills,
There is a light that warms again.
The house is old, the trees are bare,
Moonless above bends twilight's dome;
But what on earth is half so dear,
So longed for, as the hearth of home?
The mute bird sitting on the stone,
The dank moss dripping from the wall,
The thorn-trees gaunt, the walks o'ergrown,
I love them, how I love them all!
Still, as I mused, the naked room,
The alien firelight died away,
And from the midst of cheerless gloom
I passed to bright unclouded day.
A little and a lone green lane
That opened on a common wide;
A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain
Of mountains circling every side;
A heaven so clear, an earth so calm,
So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air;
And, deepening still the dream-like charm,
Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.
That was the scene, I knew it well;
I knew the turfy pathway's sweep
That, winding o'er each billowy swell,
Marked out the tracks of wandering sheep.
Even as I stood with raptured eye,
Absorbed in bliss so deep and dear,
My hour of rest had fleeted by,
And back came labour, ******* care.
3.9k