"morningstar" poems
*In the realms of despair,
Glistens, a star in the dark.
Salvation, or is it the Morningstar?
Abomination might it be?
Fell for centuries, only to be
Embraced by death himself.
Fear trembles through me,
For I believed myself to be,
A daughter of the heavens,
a daughter of the light.
Entangled in the arms of Lucifer,
I turned out to be,
the darkest daughter, the dark bride.
Queen of the ******
Doomed I am.*
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 1:22 AM UTC
This poem is dedicated to the fallen of the First World War, and also, to all those we have lost in the years since.
- Somme Harvest -
In the early morning
Dawn of the fiery horizon,
The sea of green caresses the land
And gave it gentle kisses
Of tender sadness.
On this day many an unlived life would find
Life in Death, but first must come Death in Life,
Indeed, a bouquet of barbs grace the
Dark, dank, *****
Halls of Morningstar,
Servants go to and fro preparing the sordid feast
Of unsung heroes.
Babes in arms are they, who shall
Ever sleep till the break of the final day.
Fields of Flanders infertile,
But for the harvest to ripen
The fertilizer of life is
Scattered, battered, tattered,
Sown,
Human manure, nutrient of vitality,
It seeps into earthly soil.
In the year of our Lord,
One thousand, nine hundred and sixteen
Did the farmers collect their greatest bounty,
Not all farmers reaped massive yields,
Farmers Kultur, Sickle and Hammer
Fed their maniacal hunger with rotting corpses,
While famers Lion, Bulldog and Bald Eagle
Wept their hunger with mechanical eyes,
Farmer Scythe, steward of Morningstar,
Laughed dry, dead tears of hungry joy
And sang the golden harvest song
As his blade swam through the harvest thirstily,
For indeed, the harvest was an endless
Smoky sea of blood green
And thousands were sailing.
Twilight gleaming through the sky,
The raging war god vomit’s dry thunderous wrath
And wreaks barbaric, savage, ferocious, ****** carnage below,
As sleeping
Babes in arms fly through the red twilight.
Vultures dressed in human feathers
Gather and crowd around their congealing cold feast,
With hatred sewn on their
Lifeless, lidless
Blind eyes,
They shriek their throaty, ******
Thankless prayers to idle gods.
A multitude of thousands upon thousands
Of souls sour to the heights of Mount Olympus,
Unshed tears,
My child, I saw you in that dusky evening half-light,
Flying, soaring and rising higher with your
Brothers-in-arms.
As I looked up at the darkening sky
My heart wept warm tears of ebbing love,
While my eyes forever dimmed the light,
And my baby,
My body became the Earth,
The phoenix has nested.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 6:04 AM UTC
Beware all ye who enter here,
This is my heart.
And it is just as bad,
Nay worse,
Than any of hell's trespass,
It beats slow like the mockingbird doth crow,
Once in a blue moon,
And only at midnight,
The chill's it release would make the Morningstar,
Shiver in pain,
My gates are protected by demons greater,
Than the darkest Horror novel,
My own.
The Pits are more black than the darkest tar,
It is the color of my love and of my hate.
For dontcha know,
Its all one thing down here,
Bleeding freely,
Come on in and take a dive,
Just beware,
Not a one,
No God, Demon, Man wo or not,
Has of yet made it out of here,
Is there a treasure inside,
Maybe, perhaps... probably,
Its just the the pride of the thing,
Like climbing Mount Everest,
Or making it to dinner on time.
But I don't care.
Live or die,
The gates remain so very high
Climb them if you will.
One time I fell,
And I awoke in hell,
At first they fought,
For such a soul as me,
Until one such as Beelzebub,
Lord of the hosts he came along,
And he among the first he bowed,
Whispering in a yell loud enough to hear,
'We WILL be waiting for your return,
Lord of lords, king of kings,
Lion among lambs, hero among man,"
Awakening from such a dream,
In a sweat that made me hot,
I smiled for the first time in a long time,
As the blackness in my heart boiled,
And the gates grew,
I had a home in hell,
And Earth would be my THRONE.
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 12:14 PM UTC
We walked in beauty at daybreak
a cool breeze blew through our arms
like long feathered eagle spirit wings
Sky pressed its cobalt palms
together in prayer and
bowed to the four directions
Stopping to commune with
the new baby across the street
round, gurgling Buddha face radiant
as the sun glittering above us
His mother expressed concern
over a recent viral infection he'd
just gotten over, her greenish gray
eyes beaming with maternal devotion
in the morningstar light
We continued our beauteous trek
I paused just off of Island street
to take a pine blossom bath
Thanking the noble, handsome pine
I immersed myself in the aura cleansing
prickly, tickling pine needles
A dark blue car ambled slowly pass me
wondering, "What the heck?!"
Laughing, I wandered on...
singing to the sun dancing higher in the heavens
showering the earth and all my
brothers and sisters
in Golden Beauty
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
The morning star defied the godly beam of divinity:
The star feeding the vines of evil embracing bodies,
Saying “no” since the grand affliction, to the trinity,
It is Morningstar; the devil - Courage he embodies.
Nameless angels envied the free one of the chain,
Light and of light they were, yet the opposite beats -
Beats in their hearts - jealousy and wrath remain,
In the servants with no will in their celestial meats.
An upholstery of fragile sins to test the son was.
He stood for the fire, and O! Flames hurled upon,
Banished and loner, the voice of every lost cause,
In the streets, skins and days that cease to go on.
How shall we and he defend not the selves created,
With a consciousness ideal and stark, by the almighty?
The almighty himself, who selfishness in us dictated,
We, makers of evil, goodness and charming Aphrodite?
He fell, greeting the stars, wavering a throne above,
And shedding a ****** tear for a sin in the creation.
A sin with no faulty one committing - the sin of love,
Self love, the “sin” Morningstar fought for its liberation.
Dec 25, 2021
Dec 25, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
Herbal Anticipation
On a nature hike, just trippin’ threw the field,
Here we are just getting high,
As we are just getting by.
In my fantasies you’re just to cool, much too sly,
As you smooth up on me, no need to ask why.
Our lusts just fly.
Oh yes, oh me, oh my!
Don’t you know this is why
I like to get you oh so high.
Just once lets get naked and give it a try.
I have the ****
Now all I need,
Is your exciting, inviting little reply.
Morningstar 4-‘98
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
Watching and waiting
A safe passage through
Never ending
The torment of you
I'm on my way, i'll beat the dark
Your days of being alone end tonight
If the stars in the sky would lend me a heart
You would not know the meaning of the word apart
Though the twinkle may fade It all is the same
My morningstar deep in the night
Though far away now
I will reach you tonight
Though the twinkle may fade It all is the same
You're the light in a world of dark
I know it hurts
It hurts me too
But keep your chin up, you'll pull through
Mountains will fall and oceans will rise
I promise you morningstar
You won't be alone tonight
If the stars in the sky would lend me a heart
You would not know the meaning of the word apart
Though the twinkle may fade It all is the same
My morningstar deep in the night
Though far away now
I will reach you tonight
Though the twinkle may fade It all is the same
You're the light in a world of dark
I promise you morning star there's no need to fear
I'll keep you safe now dry your tears
I’ll be right here, all through the night
Shine on now, brighter than bright
I love your shine, your sparkle, your glow
You can forget what it was like being alone
Though the mountains did fall, and the oceans did rise
I am here with you tonight
I watched and I waited
The safe passage through
**** all the torment of being away from you
We're stronger together
We can face the dark
The stars in the sky lent me a heart
Forget that blasted word apart
Though the twinkle may fade it all is the same
My morningstar deep in the night
I’m with you now
Now and every night
Though the twinkle may fade it all is the same
You're my light in a world of dark
I thank the stars for my heart
Finally together, as it should have from the start
Your light is brilliant just like you
Even if you're a morningstar deep in the night
You light up my world
Well worth the fight
Never let anyone put out your shine
You make life worth it even in a world of dark
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
it’s not nearly as romantic as you’d thought; watching the world burn
having it crumble under the weight of your gaze
but here we are, the lucky ones beneath the gallows,
and we’ve got front row seats to the end of
the earth itself.
this acrid, unbreathable smoke is in my
eyes and
ears and
lungs and slowly pumping through my
blood
can you taste this desperation when we kiss?
am i the only one who feels this
sitting on cinders like it’s the hood of my car
and wishing we could see through the haze?
i’ll miss the noise, the feel of
cities rushing
two-lane highways brushing along my
well-worn and weary tires
and you’ll miss none of it, none at all
because you’re dead
and you’re difficult and he’s wearing your face but
it doesn’t matter. none of it does.
kiss me again to drown out the screams. i want another
shot at life, but it won’t happen now:
another car, another motel,
another rushed fumble out of our borrowed ties and IDs and lives
but all i’ve got is you and your coffee’s getting cold.
you’re not him but i can pretend with my
eyes shut -
just don’t leave me with the wreckage.
you are my morningstar
and i’m haunting you with life.
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 9:13 PM UTC
i am far too flammable to be playing with matches like this but i like the way your hands burn and i like the singes on my dress, my hair, my skin and i know i shouldn’t but burning feels more alive than freezing and my body has been shaking from the cold for months now and even if this hurts just as much it’s so nice to just feel something, something different, something at all. cold eats you from the inside out, the ice spreading from your stomach to your throat before it appears on your lips and cold feels like nothing. you lose the sensation of touch and you lose your breath and it happens so slowly you don’t realize it at first. this is what my life has been like: slowly freezing me solid, deep freeze through to my heart, until my flesh can’t remember what it’s like to be flushed and warm and alive. fire is different; the flames dance on your skin and scorch you before your nerves register the feeling, before you realize the danger, and this is what you feel like. i want to commit small acts of arson with you and i want us to burn down the house i grew up in and we can kiss with the flames reflected in our eyes. you are my original sin, you are my Morningstar turned lucifer, you are mine.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
Let the dark doubt that is dear to me be driven downward.
Melt my clouds of sadness, illuminate my feet to the right path.
Where do I walk?
Among mortals, among the blind, among the living, and among the dead, through the vale of unbroken promises, and away from the mountain of shattered dreams.
Mirrors draw the portrait of morningstar heat, of the shrouded past break through the mist to fill in the apparition of what is seen.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
Now I think in poetry there is a line in my mind like one that I have drawn in the sand
separating my sanity from my insanity but
With my high tides and low tides the line has become so thin it's like a trip wire waiting for an explosion that erases the line.
I've Crossed that line. The grass may not have been greener on the other side but beyond that field is a land I had never seen
I have discovered I am a dreamer of insanity
My mind is consumed by beautiful pastels of stories That i wish were reality
My thoughts they are indeed treacherous
Electrons moving like traffic in the city sending signals and hallucinations so vivid I lose track of what is real and what is not, I am tricked by false memories
That are destroyed by my harsh realities
I am a breather of instability
My lungs, they fill with poison
And never beg for air
They crave their nirvanic Asphyxiation
A mixture that is toxic to my brain
This Further Supplements my insanity
I myself am a consumer of depravity
My body devours the hedonistic side
A craving for flesh in a ****** sense This is done gently at first to watch her tense then loose Its cut in sadistics way
She is a ********* so our days are made
marks we make are beautiful but never meant to stay
I am madness
Crazy in content
Beautiful in art
Unsavory at first
But preferred long term
I think in poetry
This is my blessing and my curse
-Mr. Morningstar
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 11:20 PM UTC
* Fashionably Unexpected*
the devil had arrived but as the sun was at it's peak
the invitation was for nine, but in the evening
of next week...
he was naked save the toga, and his flaxen locks of gold
and a massive crop of wings, slightly mussed; -
adroitly posed.
i had just been in the garden, plucking apples from a limb
with my pruning shears and sherry
and no clue it might be him....
but there i stood astounded, having thought -
" I heard the bell ? "
and again
by ' Who'd ' Come knocking
on my mallet chain
from Hell.
the devil held a mirror and a silver box, ornate
with the likeness of a lotus and an acorn
on a plate...
the gilding was perfection, and the mirror was opaque
but the fallen one was flawless
as the smile upon
his face...
and how i broke the silence in my simple garden threads
was to ramble at the Serpent
as I handed him a Jacket.
Amused by my conceit that any custom i condone
were applied with an epoxy
Only carpenters from Rome, that were spotless and
And from Nazareth
with a Father
and a Ghost -
A Mother without Blemish
and Disciples in a grove...
And blessed be
the Mercy of the Lending
of the glue
by the resurrected Handy Man
and King of
all the Jews !
The Morningstar obliged!
But held the blazer
in rebuke
He grimaced His Displeasure
And instantly
for proof
He dismembered my regalia
and assembled it anew
Into such a splendid Toga
There was nothing
I could do -
but simply step aside
as all the sting
had let the ruse.
I received the Prince of Darkness
Wearing gloves and dirt and boots
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 10:59 PM UTC
***** girls, with tight short skirts,
sand in the eyes—the colour of dirt; employed
by the moon, and doing the night work.
Quivering in the cold, like skeletons out of their
closet—to act as if you don't know their prices.
But it's quite obvious!
The alleyways smell of **** the club scene of
turning a blind eye to your number of drinks.
Charismatic ill gentleman, with their casual winks;
its the end of the week. As the troublemakers parading
the street.
The performance of the local band, guitar, drums,
keyboard, bass, and of course a mic at hand.
A breathalyzer for an asthma attack, to break the pressure
in awkward conversations with the rude jokes to crack.
Lap dances in the centre room; a long key looking for the
right lock. The goal of every man to score by their crotch.
Lest he has the *****
Perfumed necks, and high cleavage vests, to show off
some perky ******* Tightly tuned hair—linear
of a piece of linen wrapped in good and neat care.
There's barely enough chairs; so sip a little while
looking around for a seat. And don't be too shy to move
your feet. But watch your step, least not to bump into a stranger,
and disturbing the chaotic night's peace.
Taste a little bit of love; in their cup under the
lasting lust of every fallen star. Take some company
back home, stuffed in a six sitter car.
As we watched a day end—watching another rise by
the time of that great Morningstar. To describe a night
they hope never ends. So by the next week, we'll be doing
it all again.
Sep 17, 2022
Sep 17, 2022 at 3:29 PM UTC
To my Detective,
I may not be as good looking as Lt. Pierce
You may not heard of him yet but let me tell you he’s not going to die in Spears...
I may not be as perfect as your past
Which like Detective Espinosa, your relationship didn’t last....
I may not be as pure and holly as Amenidiel,
Made a lot of mistakes and learning from it all still...
I may not be there all the time like Mazikeen
But promised you I’m free whenever you need me and I’m all in...
I may not be as good listener as Doctor Linda Martin
But my ears are all yours whenever you need it, I’m willing to listen...
I may not be as open minded as Ella Lopez
But will trust you without second guess...
I may be facing some difficulties right now
Just like Lucy facing his other siblings but he managed to win over them somehow...
What I’m trying to say is that I wanna be there for you anytime that you needed me,
You can count on me like Detective can count on Lucy...
You’re my Detective Chloe Decker
And I want to be your Lucifer Morningstar forever...
Oh I almost forgot!!!
About Trixie!!!
Too early to talk about her, hopefully soon but we’ll see
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 2:00 AM UTC
REDEEMER
I joined a movement known as the UNDERGROUND,
Because I fell in love with a DJ & his dark trance sound.
Some thought I lost my mind,
But soon to find
I was so much braver,
To become a raver,
Yes an Underground DJ proved to be my life savior.
Within his music, he held the key,
Introduced me to a new world, and set me free.
He claimed to see the same potential within me,
But I was filled with self-doubt,
Scared to step to this route.
So I drug my heals and put up a fight,
Again to discover, he was right!
This DJ fills me with such a deep desire,
Now the Mixtress of his D.U.N.E. Empire.
And I’m dropping beats like bombs of fire,
Look for my name on the flyer.
MIXTRESS MORNINGSTAR
4/16/2014
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
technicolour, prismatic, spectrumic prayers;
sing holy, cry holy, sleep holy,
shout shattered and screaming and forcing souls,
cry lucifer,
cry morningstar,
cry light-bringer,
cry god-forged son,
cry fallen steel,
cry darkness and revelations and the end of all things.
scream for the lost,
scream for the lamb,
scream for the only forsaken lamb;
darling child, darling warrior, darling evil.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC
There is a place deep in this heart,
It bleeds and leaks like my favorite lark,
Hiding in the dark it fights to make its true mark,
But its existence is as futile as it is a fright,
Leading and guiding hell and hate,
The fire and brimstone that only man can create.
It hurts to beat, the never ending drum,
Put my hand to my chest and think,
Is this the last one?
Hoping it goes away,
This curse this illness,
And I have no excuse,
I am my own worst witness.
Some days are better than none,
Even if this life is no fun.
I can whine and moan, or make the best on my own.
Everyone has problems,
But why does it feel like mine are alone.
Like you, there is a war,
For that place deep in my heart,
Invisible to eyes, and x ray machines,
But the battles are over,
The victor, one.
Long ago, it was decided,
As I cried blood from my bones,
That the Morningstar would win,
And the sunset would be gone.
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 5:54 PM UTC
I miss her eyes, smiles and kisses
Sadly, I gave it up for Liberty
A second chance is like Morningstar's offer
But I'd rather leave her be and live
Enticing is the thought of her in my arms
Leaving her was a bittersweet decision
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
she lives where the cell phones die without remembering
the tone assigned to a cryptic stream of social Lilliputians
on a list of offenders, and befrienders; all caroling at random
for a stitch of thyme or to barter with banter and allusions.
she sleeps where her bed has fallen in love
with southern exposure; but openly flirts with an eastern sky
boiling over with morningstar and brindle night .
her thread count...
an imaginary number
between sleep and a full moon…
and her pillows have embroidered her silhouette
as she takes slumber to meet the parents of her proclivities
that have ever held sway over all of her charms.
how her forks and knives pay conjugal visits to spoons
To the clank elegance of her signature
explaining the vacancy she hordes without joy.
armed with only a loaded pun
in the barrel of her *** and a thousand safaris
beyond game. where a woman can breathe without pretending
the pink flamingos are Rodin on Ritalin
she can howl in her own language without poppies.
she lives in that house on the hill
that wasn’t there yesterday.
and the paper boys
all want to
be men.
so oleander.
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC
Shaken with fear,
sabatons tarnished.
Metal singing a glowing sheen.
Shining sanguine red.
Imposing all who had seen.
Victor, we've fallen.
Parrying and glancing.
Terrible force riddled steel plate.
Morningstar chimes,
flung with hate.
Three held the ford,
gleaming silver cloaks.
Duality of mud,
brothers endured.
Morality seeps.
Hand and a half,
too heavy to bare.
Splintering buckler.
Oak; shred and tear.
Ripping and bludgeoning,
all shock and scare.
Metal meeting flesh,
sounded sirens became aired.
Spectacle turned glee.
Our banners, lastly reach.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 10:13 PM UTC
Morningstar dazzling my chamber
with shades of amber, I arose to the aroma of coffee,
and felt the bleeding ink in my veins
seeking for papyri to scrawl
my enduring love
for poesy !!
©shadeofalonelygirl
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 7:30 AM UTC
Who'd be good to help make a reason to rise breakfast
because I'm thinking of waffles being cooked
She who stood in our home's kitchen on an early am Sunday
frying MorningStar sausages in a pan
My Mom told her
You cook like how your Mom cooks so perfectly
Any food lover would be a fan
Fatima Z said at the end of an evening program at I.E.C.
I'm going to help a friend now who's deaf
It's an hours drive to get there
As you can see
she's much bigger than a chef
She who on the 1st day of Eid
tricked us saying she wanted to stop at the mall to buy herself clothing
instead came out with Eid gifts for her friends
illustrating Ramadan's lesson of no greed
Fatima Z upon entering the Akhgar crib
cleaned and organized their entire kitchen
No thanks in return did she want
Who does that as a guest
Far from looking like one
she moved around comfortably
working hard with no desire of ditchin
She holding the hand of an elderly lady
speaking Farsi to her as best she could
as she guided her walk carefully to the end of the path
all her focus on a charity
Fatima Z after giving a short speech
on Fati's wedding day
was described by my Father as wise
Her good spirit and happiness filled the air
like can be felt in the month of May
She organized Fati's second bridal shower
Planned with me on the phone late at night Fati's Bday party
Commuted from one distant city to another
to help Fati through labor and delivery
Extremely hospitable
Fatima Z on an incredibly tragic day
offered us something to drink
in our own house
said T
Not only her way
but what it is her beautiful eyes and smile blink
All these thoughts or memories of her came to mind this morning
She I remember
and blown away that immediately afterwards
I reflect that today's the 9th of September
Fatima Z, a lady is she
It's your birthday
from Najwa
She'll likely humbly chuckle
hee, hee
By: Najwa
Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 8:52 PM UTC
When I’m the
last of the fallen,
the absolute last
that Death ignores,
you’ll find me
crawling toward
the bright and sunny,
the endless calm,
the milk and honey.
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 4:05 AM UTC
I wake up in the East as the Morningstar
To freeze in Pluto's arms in my bed
To be Sisyphus's rock in the afternoon to dusk
I am a hell fire chariot in the coliseum of Mars.
Then I calm down in the evening with Jupiter;
On a nimbus cloud of lighting
Successfully revolving back to Venus.
Settling rains onto Gaia's green.
As I Dionysus, hold my wine glass out the window finally getting the rest I sought from the West's lunacy.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
It was a match dropped into an oil field
And so these flames depicted the hellfire that reigned inside of me.
A pure rage
Unbridled and ever growing
What volatile emotions unleashed while their warden was away.
A jailbreak of hatred enticed with frustration and fueled by confusion
A soul that once new peace
A heart that bloomed love
Now fields of brimstone wishing harm to those who destroyed the garden
Oath breakers, eyes void of soul. Liars the lot of them cast together with no sense of right or wrong
Yet wielding a hammer of “justice”
There is no balance to these scales
No punishment befitting this imaginary crime.
I pray you all be destroyed, in worse ways than you destroy those around you.
My hearts misses who I was.
My soul has forgotten peace.
And my mind is ever burning with the devils blue flames.
-Mr. Vaun Niklaus Morningstar.
Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 7:32 AM UTC