"moth" poems
Don't lose your confidence
Never distrust Providence
Remove your ignorance
Accumulate tolerance
Patience is a must
Your mind, you dust
Body mustn't rust
Always be honest
Hopefully you live
In God, ever believe
The best, you give
Better to forgive
Choose the right path
To toil, take an oath
God and hope, trust both
Don't die like a brittle moth
God-faith helps thrive
As He makes us survive
Our belief, He does revive
He helps peace to be alive
Take efforts and await
After showing your might
Being happy is right
As joy, you can sight
True efforts never die
They appeal to the Sky
God keeps His eye
Upon those who try
Good luck my dear
Pursue without fear
If hard-work is here
No place for tear
mvvenkataraman
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
I feel most at home
When I am beside you.
I am able to breathe freely & abundantly.
You speak kindly to my soul,
& nurture the points of direction
Which I grow.
My sanctuary of peace,
My birds eye view of serenity.
I feel most at home
When I am in view of your garden.
Offering the utmost
Of warmth & affection.
Make no mistake,
I am not there to simply pass time
Nor am I there out of the convenience
Of you.
Being around you takes me
to another world
& I am glad to share in the experience
Of you.
I am in awe at how you transform me
Into a moth, in terms of light.
I’ll follow you anywhere
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 1:00 PM UTC
the sky a silver
dissonance by the correct
fingers of April
resolved
into a
clutter of trite jewels
now like a moth with stumbling
wings flutters and flops along the
grass collides with trees and
houses and finally,
butts into the river
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I hear of your struggles
In every way
You tell me of them
Over and over and over
And I feel mixed
Twisted
On one side honored
You trust me enough to tell me
But on the other side worried
For how this consumes you
I found you in the midst of Dark
Shining as the brightest Light
Undeterred by the greatest of evils
And I was forever in awe
As a moth to its light
But instead of finding my solace in your warmth
You dimmed
Once withstanding anything thrown at you,
But instead finding darkness to come
From a place least expected:
From those closest
And the Dark took you
Elated in its clever nature
Now you complain
Over matters you would have brushed aside
I can see this aura around you
While once filled with the greatest Light,
Now lies tinged with specks of black
And I can see it consuming you
Perhaps I was naïve
Searching for something different in our world
A source of Light
Rather than a consumer of it
I’m glad I was able to witness your brilliance
As it taught me many things
No matter how brilliant your light,
The greatest Light
Only shows in times of the greatest darkness
Beaming into the Dark
A hopeless task
Yet filled with the greatest Hope of all
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
Your moth light is supposed to
sustain me.
I am told to discredit
my sun,
its fuel unnecessary,
yours enough.
What do shadows live on,
this light?
I am the keeper of your
caterpillar dreams.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 7:45 AM UTC
a haw and saw.
a thorn.
fruit: it is ecstasy
never bit and
undeniable.
you slurp—a cat licking
its paws
ruby and clear.
moth and cloud
drape over fruit,
make up sparkling nectar.
love is sickening.
you spend five dollars on
a rose at a bar for
a girl you will never see
again.
she will take the flower and
throw it in the trash
outside with the hundreds of
other roses.
no matter.
they have fruit, and fruit
concludes. it is life
cut with claws.
their beauty, seemingly to
be always in the clusters above.
**** you, rose. **** your dew.*
they seem to say. that’s when
the light hits and microbial
bleeds to miss ruby.
JAZZ!
at night retrains
beauty, makes it edible.
the rose, changing the color
of its dew—black pearl in
this drape of mystery-shaped
night.
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
Like a beggar feeling for gold in the dark
I mosey in the shadows searching for the scent of bliss
Blind to everything but my own thought
I skirt the edge of light and dark
A stuttering heartbeat
I rest upon a sturdy form and begin to flutter
Slowly
I come away from my stupor and tilt my head
Upward
Illuminated by a golden sphere
A moth grasping at God
Gripped in the glow I am light
Reflecting unto faded stars
We
Inanimate forms buzzing along to the
Dull hum of the universe.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
Like a moth attracted to a flame you drew me ever closer.
Caught in your light, the flame fanned by your breath
shone through my very soul. Yet our love
like the moth simply died. And you held me in your hand
like a candle of remembrance in a hall of fame,
a trophy of my undying love; a symbol of your strength;
a reminder of my existence.
.... Then Phwooosh.. You blew out the flame.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
I am the moth, you are the flame.
I am blinded in the darkness,
Surronded by the cold.
I am fragile, weak and fleeting.
I am the moth.
You are the flame.
You burn bright and true,
Chasing away shadows with your light.
You draw me closer and closer,
Enticing me with the heat you exude.
I am the moth intoxicated by the flame.
You are forbidden, yet irristable.
The fire is seductive, untameable, and wild.
My desires are undeniable.
But to touch is to be burned.
I am the moth, killed by your flame.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 2:08 AM UTC
And I recall that when I first l laid my eyes upon him, I knew that he was the one for me. I think he knew too. It was the power of the look we exchanged, the magnetism of it, the electricity, the immense power of the force of attraction. He had something in him that was irresistible and that something drew me to him like a moth to a flame. My heart sunk into the deep confines of my body, my eyes were ravenous for him, my body yearned for him. As if the world had suddenly ceased to exist, as if nothing else mattered in the world and all I wanted was to be with you and know you inside and out, know you better than you know yourself. Love at first sight does not exist, it is impossible to come to love a man at first glance, to understand him, to trust him. It is possible to be infatuated with him. It is possible to be consumed with his face, his nose, his eyes...to be in lust at first sight. But this lust grows, yes this lust swells into love and my life is empty without you here and my heart needs you to pump the blood through my veins and my brain needs you to tell me how to speak again and my hand needs you to be here to firmly hold it. A seed was planted with that first look and was watered with words and touches, and the seed grew to be the size of the universe plus everything in it and more than that. We are on fire and our sparks fuel the flames.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
Moth, dancing moth,
dance to the light. Dance to the death.
Break those wings to free the flight,
the sea is far and here is no hearth, not here.
Fly, moth, fly
away from the lilted breeze so to breathe easy.
Your heart is in shock; Moth, go back to
from where you come.
Moth, falling moth,
no crevice in sight, dear moth—where has your illusion
gone? Moth don’t waste time, hurry yourself and
cease the end, in through the spaces and far from time.
Wingless moth, pained.
The light shines only on you.
What disturbance (perturbing the soul)
held you back?
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 5:10 AM UTC
First she ate too much,
Then not enough.
She closed herself off from the world.
Wrapped herself in a cocoon of doubt.
She was an odd little caterpillar,
That gave up on ever becoming a butterfly.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.
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i breathe
one breath at a time
each inhalation linked to the exhalation before it
yet every breath stands alone
there's something tenuous about it
this soft machine is on thin ice
devoured by time in innocent increments
like a moth nibbles away wool
my heart
little gorilla
wearing itself out
rubber glove with a hole in it
weird luck
my eyes are bright
solar blue ball lanterns
if you saw me
you would say
good bones
river of envy
yet all hinges
on a muscular rhythmic pulsating machine
like a determined jaw chewing
jumpy mouth
yet on the verge of betrayal
a glitch
karmic indecision
in destinies wheel house
a red fist locus banging
ones immense sense of self
a vainglorious elaboration
built over a small pulsating muscle
innocuous
dumb blood flesh knot drumming
scarlet tribe
throne of my very soul
great sovereign
old man in a crib
splitting open of its own accord
a sudden rip from life
to a dead sea eternity
the final frontier
starless night
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC
my clumsy limbs
held together with wet cement
taught rubber bands
struggle to bind my flesh
I am but a mess of unimportant matter
another aimless being to fill the space
unique for my twisted thoughts
hysterically pleading with a calm face
speaking warped words i do not mean
lips sealed like the lid on my boiling ***
dumping oppressed feeling into its contents
bubbling over sweetly burning my raw skin hot
blistered I hide behind my cotton disguise
my misshapen body covered in a gruesome sweat
sickening wounds throb for the sight of others
witness my plague of dry sobs and cigarettes
and so i shriek silently like my sister and father
hold my tongue saturated with sour emotion
my poorly constructed moth-eaten being
self sabotages in a desperate motion
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 10:48 AM UTC
I come from darkness
And such as a moth
Beating itself
To death
Against a flame,
In your arms, I burn
Just the same.
F.Z.N
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
I saw you fallen in front of me
motionless and in grief
your only hope has faded
your little life is diminished.
For a split second I see
a tiny flap of wings
clumsy and weak
I hear your voice within me.
*"Is it all you can do for me?"
"Why are you taking me?"
"You got a light?"
"Your hands are so warm..."*
Moth, moth... can you stand still?
there is no light in here
Moth, moth... do you ever sleep?
live one day and forever be.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
she held me close and cooed and preened me
and held me safe from the night
from the large and troubling world
that my tiny brain could not comprehend.
those ancient hands
had seen many decades,
the raging waters sought the
liverspotted skin like a flame
seeks a moth to burn
by shining so **** bright.
She gave me dinosaurs
and quarters and
nickels and dimes,
she told me stories
and memories and
the dusty images of long abandoned time.
I sat and sat and listened and sat and
retreated into the shelter of
those far too weathered hands.
though the world was
largely storm clouds
and the incessant shouting of the thunder,
she held me closer,
covered me in her mass and
held me quickly against the oncoming storm of time.
those ancient
weathered hands
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
Being kissed on the back
of the knee is a moth
at the windowscreen and
yes my darling a dot
on the fathometer is
tinkerbelle with her cough
and twice I will give up my
honor and stars will stick
like tacks in the night
yes oh yes yes yes two
little snails at the back
of the knee building bon-
fires something like eye-
lashes something two zippos
striking yes yes yes small
and me maker.
7.5k
Four walls; a pair of cupped hands.
Jaundiced like an open eye; an open cove
Prescribing solitude to those whom solitude cannot withstand,
And I choose this cold corner which is furthest from the door,
To be where I am not, before
Your proclivities become my own, I write. I write,
My window holds my breath and frosts the world,
The moon in his amber gown, dressed in chatoyance and spite,
Godspeed; dark, dark shroud for naked skies!
Six floors, walls, doors from you am I.
I couldn't write when the sun peered in,
Her inquiry evangelizing the specks of time left upon the glass -
I've heard it all before; God's shining face leaves none unloved (unseen)
but his spotlight has no starlet; so who can see me up here?
We can't see from windows, dear.
I'd live and sing for the cloudless hall
The nursery of misanthropists crawling on the grey cobblestone
And the lilt of the wind on the rose; through squares nice and small -
The peevish moth shudders at the sight of itself obscuring the day through the glass.
It seems we're always in the way.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
I made you of breath
of shadows and sunbeams
of boundlessness
of folding out and in like wings
of fallings and risings
from the gravity of things
I am your leaves without
limbs or leaving
I am the circles and spirals
your body carves from air
your leaps toward heaven
when you most love the earth
I was before you and will be
after you, I am the center
and the circumference
I am within and without you
And I am your comforter
when the cold winds come in
I am the point on the line
I am brief and desirable
I eat oranges and watch
the Northward flight of geese
my being roars like oceans
I rock myself in the cradle
of self doubt and other emotions
I sometimes let take control
I rock the world like a baby
I kiss the air like my lover
here and here and there
I embrace you, World
I am your second Moon
that rose from the South
I am your eyes, your mouth
your star, your tree
and something else
I am sand, river, feather,
grass, moth, l am forever
yet lost and not found
and I am something else
and I always will be
something to someone else.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC
The butterfly of many talents
talked nothing but of himself...
and never stopped to Listen
or gain true conversational wealth
cloaked in flamboyent colors
his butterfly wings so huge,
captured a little lost lady moth
(looking for the moon)
and kept her as his muse
just as the wings of the butterfly
so was the moths heart large
and so she inspired her captor unconditionally..
and loved freely, fanning him...
& flapping her wings too hard...
each time they would tear ,
she'd ignore the searing pain
for with all of her inner beauty;
by no means was she vain
the butterfly misused his muse
did not reciprocate emotion
so her wings drooping stupidly
with blind devotion
were as lost shadowed in his coloring
as before.......
searching for the light of moon in black ocean
he had never saved her from the vast
sky-sea & empty Galaxy
But used her flutter as a tool
to satisfy his selfish artistic needs
the little lost moth lost flight
As she began to understand
the light butterfly provided
was a stage light made by man
all the time she lost
robbed her spirit and stole her grace
so she rubbed the powder off his big bright wings and thought
-what good is his outward beauty now that he can no longer soar in space-
Disenchanted but free at last
moth tries but can never trust color
won't inspire art or music
and will never love another.....
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
"SISTER, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head."
Thus the prudent brother said.
"Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?"
Thus his sister calm replied.
"Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I'd make you into mutton broth
As easily as **** a moth"
The sister raised her beaming eye
And looked on him indignantly
And sternly answered, "Only try!"
Off to the cook he quickly ran.
"Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan
To me as quickly as you can."
And wherefore should I lend it you?"
"The reason, Cook, is plain to view.
I wish to make an Irish stew."
"What meat is in that stew to go?"
"My sister'll be the contents!"
"Oh"
"You'll lend the pan to me, Cook?"
"No!"
Moral: Never stew your sister.
6.8k
hooray say the roses, today is blamesday
and we are red as blood.
hooray say the roses, today is Wednesday
and we bloom wher soldiers fell
and lovers too,
and the snake at the word.
hooray say the roses, darkness comes
all at once, like lights gone out,
the sun leaves dark continents
and rows of stone.
hooray say the roses, cannons and spires,
birds, bees, bombers, today is Friday
the hand holding a medal out the window,
a moth going by, half a mile an hour,
hooray hooray
hooray say the roses
we have empires on our stems,
the sun moves the mouth:
hooray hooray hooray
and that is why you like us.
6.4k