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wordvango Sep 2016
Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night

You took your life, as lovers often do
But I could've told you Vincent
This world was never meant for
One as beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame-less heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget

Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of ****** rose
Lie crushed and broken on the ****** snow

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will

Written by Don Mclean • Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group
For Sally
chris Jan 2016
O'starry starry night,
watch the children laugh and play,
reaching up to touch the sky,
up above the world so high

O'starry starry night,
listen to the crickets sing,
sitting out on May hills,
watch the children pick daffodils

O'starry starry night,
follow the light of fireflies,
feel the cool breeze pass by,
breathe in the fresh air.
inspired by starry starry night by don mclean

wrote this for english class in 8th grade.
Starry starry bright
Shines down upon me tonight
Catch the moon in distance sight
With promise of a dream I can't obtain

Patched across the sky
Looking down to me below
Will the truth be ever known
In my soul broken once upon a time

Now I still believe
That the day will finally come
That I"ll be sharing life with no one else
For only you I still will carry on
Till the day I finally
Rest my heart
In yours that wouldn't
Ever ever part

Starry starry bright
Flaming wonder to my mind
Gently ponder on my plight
To ne"er dissapointment
In my life

Shadows over me
Guard the one I hold to be
My saviour come so tenderly
To carry me home with a gentle smile

Now I still believe
That the heavens will conceive
This prayer I hold within just me
The love I now bind with only thee

That in the end
That's yet unknown
This journey I travel on my own
For I will never ever ever doubt
That as your guidance still will shine
That one day it will rescue me
From sorrow binding in my sanity

Till I live life in love eternally

Starry starry bright
bkmackenzie Jan 2011
from new to waxing
blinked a moon
Orion stood in might
of a heaven
belted
earth below - such a
starry, starry night

expression
words not fair to this
sight beheld of you
Vincent and your timelessness- beauty
golds and blue - and held
me in the spell of moon, and in the spell
of light - a vision of
one "as beautiful" - this
starry, starry night...
bkmackenzie copyrighted Jan 2011....you can also read at
http://signedbkm.blogspot.com
pgherna Sep 2014
A Brush with Starry Starry Night

It is a honeymoon of sorts
a romance
a chance to bare Witness
to the birth of a Memory
the beginning of a Reminisce
a Daydream,
the Time will come
to leave this
Starry Starry Night
with the Hope
to embrace
it again
Inspired by a visit to Vermont during Summer and Fall
Krysta Conklin Feb 2013
starry eyes
starry eyes
oh how i love those
****
starry
eyes
they shine
and they gleam
they make me want to
scream
they pierce through my skin
they caress every vein
those
****
starry
eyes
sparkling like champagne
your stare is electric
it cuts through my core
i can feel it in the air
there's nothing i don't adore
about those
****
starry
eyes
i can't look away
from those
****
starry
eyes.
Donall Dempsey Jun 2018
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off the moon.

Plucked out the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.
Donall Dempsey Oct 2023
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off                the moon.

Plucked out                        the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.

INTRO TO STARRY STARRY NIGHT

You would have loved Frieda...everyone loved Frieda.  Frieda was the most alive.. most charismatic entity that I have ever known. Flaming red hair …crimson lipstick... scarlet dress...red Jag.  You couldn’t miss her.  She was the life and soul of everything and she desired only one thing: to be dead or as she put it “...not to be alive! ”  The only one it seemed who didn’t love Frieda was...Frieda.  

She was(as she admitted herself)      an expert suicidist  but a failure at pulling it off.  We used to joke that we would publish a book of her suicide notes.  Her last note simply said: “This time Life has gone too f*ing far! ”  She never spoke of Death only of  Life as if he was this bloke that one could run into on the corner of some little sidewalk café.  There would be Life(looking larger than Life)        sitting sipping coffee and he’d say to her: “Ah, ma jolie petite fille!  Comment ca va?  Asseyez vous, sil vous plait...baisez moi! ”  And she’d walk up to Life and kick him in the *****!

She often said that if I wrote a poem about her suicide she would come back and haunt me...I hoped I  would never have to.

When she was a little girl she was ***** again and again by her Dad and his two mates.  This started when she was 7 and stopped suddenly at 13.  As a little girl she looked up the word ****** got as far as insect...this horrible thing crawling all over your consciousness that you can’t get away from.  She decided to ask next door’s little girls if what was happening to her was...just what happens.  In their case it was the same so they decided to go to the girl next door to next door and see if this was so... and sadly it was. It seemed to be just a thing that Daddies do! One more house would have proven this untrue but...

When her Dad entered her and tore her and she screamed...he told her she was a bad girl and that she was disturbing the neighbours.  He got her to bite down on the yellow pencil she had been doing her Maths with. All she could remember were splinters of wood and graphite...flakes of yellow paint...blood and spittle.  At that moment she switched and created a Frieda to bear this hell and hid her self away inside her head.  She had put herself so far away inside her head that...not even she could reach herself.

It was this created persona who went on to be the Frieda that everyone adored and envied. The more successful this persona was the more the real Frieda hated her.  The only way to **** this Frieda was to **** the real Frieda.

All her life she claimed she was “me” & “not me! ”
It was the “not me” she would try to ****.

She used to play over and over again the beginning(just the beginning)       of  VINCENT and with an avid interest in astrology she would consult the stars to see if it was an opportune time to die.

I was going on stage when a stranger came up to me and said: ” You know that red-headed ***** you fancy...well, she’s topped herself...didn’t make it! ” All the time I was performing the poems I was writing STARRY STARRY NIGHT in my head so that at the end I decided to read it in her memory.  I was half way through it when a very alive Frieda floated in at the back of the room with a drink in her hand and a *** in the other! I looked as if I had seen a ghost!  She toasted me and said in a loud voice: “I told you I’d come back and haunt you! ”  Reports of her demise had been a little hasty and she had “made it! ” I was never so glad to see someone!

Originally the last lines of the poem were:

“The moon wept...the stars cried...that she was alone when she died! ”

This was the most terrible aspect of her death for me that someone so alive and had a life full of... people...people...people...should have no one when it came to the end.

She was a dichotomy...full of life yet full of hatred  for life.  She believed at once that life was for living but also that Life had lied to her. Both beliefs struggled inside her for dominance...sometimes one won... sometimes the other!

Years later she would phone me up at ungodly hours and no matter who I would be with and repeat them with laughter so that I was obliged to change them to the present lines!

This poem is for my friend Frieda wherever she may be.
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.

It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:

into that rushing beast of the night,
****** up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.
Shane Carmichael Feb 2012
And the clouds moved more like smoke in the wind
than actual clouds

They painted my wordless emotions across a starry night
only to tell my untold story

My eyes traced their subtle patterns across the sky
and I realized that they traveled longer than I

Each burst of stars further than the one before it
and far more familiar than the first

For in this starry night I saw your starry eyes
and I came to the conclusion I wouldn’t have noticed this without you

Thank you for making me see my starry night
and I will repay you with my nighttime soul of this starry wanderer
Donall Dempsey Jun 2019
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off the moon.

Plucked out the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.
Sa Sa Ra Nov 2012
Starry Starry high moon nearly half of waxing
trailing the son running the show in Great Barrington
Western Mass., the Berkshires always so dreamlike as if like on
account of such frostings; and we prepare details in so many ways
for so many days dark or light no difference this way this it's all him first
of there and last to leave likely then I'll be still again the usually there but otherwise
he'll cover my door and I'm my own creative spectator and scout when more involved I'm a holy rout';
also I am fully prepared for out a sleep under stars in the small town I love Smithsonian said as small ones be you may consider it numeral one to be; be it or not your cup of tea or time for such; I may seek the church by morn with to be and by the story with the song and story within Alice's Restaurant would seem soup kitchen on turkey day might be an ordinary thing to lend the love with arms hearts and hands if not Kripalu best yoga center about and food there be a walk in just a simple fee and best of company so kids are so well growing up and slowly I'm waking from my own harrowed cup; and I never stop loving with all hate or betray all betrayals or feel more need of forgiveness be I've done enough and so much more and in perfect abandonment and all betrayal all the more seven billion family be and this beautiful universe that rings and rings and rings sings singing all love all beauty be and all is willing and shares all that too; rocks and trees coming greater still, waters woods wilds calling routing for us all ever closer the Great of opportunity ever ripening within about to fall upon us all....
<3 <3 Pump Pump jump start it up!!!!
Alice’s Restaurant isn’t around anymore. But, as the song says, “Alice didn't live in a restaurant. She lived in the church nearby the restaurant…” And the old Trinity Church, where Alice once lived and where the saga began has become home to The Guthrie Center and The Guthrie Foundation.
https://guthriecenter.org/about/

Kripalu; Our Mission
To empower people and communities to realize their full potential through the trans-formative wisdom and practice of yoga.
http://www.kripalu.org/

Shalom Retreats™ were developed in 1969 as a process for exploring the trans-formative power of loving community. Shalom Sacred Mountain Retreat Center was founded as a hope structure, calling people to live passionately and with compassion in the world.
The Shalom process is based on the principles of intentional loving. We are a place of empowerment, investing each person to trust the process of his or her own life. We honor all spiritual paths.
We believe in life as journey. Each person must claim his or her own power to be and to act. We seek no disciples and encourage individuals to become dedicated disciples of their own life, to do the psychological and spiritual work necessary to live fully into the soul’s journey — the path that ultimately returns one to God.
http://shalommountain.com/wp/

The Principles and Skills of Loving
At Shalom we learn and practice the Principles and Skills of Loving that echo what the masters have taught us about love.

Principles of Loving

More than anything else, we want to love and be loved.
Love is a gift.
Love is not time bound.
Love is good will in action.
Love is a response to need.



Skills of Loving

Seeing:
I do not look over or through you, I see you in your uniqueness.
Hearing:
I listen to what you are saying.
Honoring of Feelings and Ideas:
I recognize your right to think and feel as you do.
Having Good Will:
I will you good and not evil.  I care about you.
Responding to Need:
If you let me know what your needs are, within the limits of my value system,
I will not run away.  I will be there for you.

http://shalommountain.com/wp/about-2/the-principles-and-skills-of-loving/
Christos Rigakos Oct 2012
The vapor trails across the starry sky,
they seem to span the universe but they
mislead my aching heart, my searching eye.

Like rainbow's end, if only there could I
locate that *** of gold, I'd surely spray
the vapor trails across the starry sky,

to find again the one for whom I cry,
yet always hopeful dreams in words I say
mislead my aching heart, my searching eye.

Without a *** of gold, or any prize,
the floating road may yet still lead the way.
Oh, vapor trails across the starry sky,

if I could follow, would you be close by
to my brother? My mind, now gone astray,
misleads my aching heart, my searching eye.

Now as I stare above, with blurring eyes,
night winds have blown the vapor trails away.
The vapor trails across the starry sky,
mislead my aching heart, my searching eye.

(C)2008, Christos Rigakos
Villanelle
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


translated by W.S. Merwin
Leonardo J Mar 2018
"Starry
Starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the
Darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
And now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry
Starry night
Flaming flo'rs that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in
Vincent's eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's
Loving hand.
And now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight on that starry
Starry night.
You took your life
As lovers often do;
But I could have told you
Vincent
This world was never
Meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry
Starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes
That watch the world and can't forget.
Like the stranger that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of ****** rose
Lie crushed and broken
On the ****** snow.
And now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
They're not
List'ning still
Perhaps they never will."

a song by Don Mclean, 1971
This song makes me think you.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
I find it strange that when I look into your eyes I'm not met with an endless starry sky. The world around me doesn't freeze or turn monochrome around everyone but you. I don't see an endless sea or visions of a setting sun, no matter my determination. So how do I know it is love if it isn't as the words I've heard all my life describe?

Yet my heart still drops when you walk into the room, even when your focus is a place far off. People say it's like a flutter but this is far too heavy to use such a light word to describe such a feeling. It's painful, but I know it isn't something ominous or bad because it feels right. How do I know it is love if none if my words describe it right as they should?

I get it every time our eyes meet or you tilt your head and smile with your head in the clouds. I get it when you laugh to yourself or say something hardly above a whisper. When you focus so hard you ***** up and let out that silly sigh of aggravation and I feel such deep affection. Yet is it alright for me to say what I feel is love when I can't even tell myself what love is?

I don't think your eyes need starry skies or my stomach needs a million butterflies. Your smile doesn't need to illuminate the room and my thoughts for you don't need an anchor. Your love shouldn't have an expectation and my words don't need to have a proper diction.

Perhaps I'll see it in your heart or feel it in your touch one day if you feel the same regardless of what the world has sold me with their modern day poetry. I promise you that no matter how hopeless I become I will find out for myself  what it means to love you wholly, even if I have to find out from loving at a distance.
I don't understand why I write so many poems about love when I am not even in love. It is so frustrating to have words without a muse and a muse without words.
Mahwish Z Aug 2020
Look up,
aren't we blessed
to witness the starry pattern ..
it echoes across
my thoughts
my writings
in
my
head ..
filling up this void
in its quite solitude..

let me be drunk
overflowing with starry, mid-night
magical night ..
who cares what goes around
the world !!
While,
I witness the marvels
my heart
my soul
in
my
dreams ..

I find you in the loneliness
of these words
amidst
dreaming
of starry nights ..
all over me !!

in a colourful
yet subtle silence.
chloe lee Jun 2016
Starry starry night
Colours blend
Sky ablaze
Stars alight in the sky
Clouds swirling like mist in the sky
The tree of death
Towering towards the sky
The village of red surrounds the tree
Here I am locked up here
Wondering if I'm going to get out
Or am I just going to paint my mind
Til I die
This is a poem based of Vincent van Gough and his painting starry starry night
You escaped
Through my fingers again
That answer which I
Have been clumsily chasing

With scabby scabby knees
Under starry starry nights
In quiet, lonely corners spent
Watching something indecipherable

A small answer
With such a resounding voice
Which I hope will soothe my brow
My nightmares it will quieten

An answer which I've been restlessly searching for
In the blood on my wrists
The scars that appear on my body-
Intentionally and otherwise

Digging open my heart and sometimes others
I rip them apart, stride (run) through recklessly
But when I leave, I don't leave a single mark

Sadness, weariness, desolation, isolation
All belongings of the poet
I will say hello to whichever one
I haven't greeted yet

Just so I can define and finally see
In all my sanity and insanity
That elusive, elusive answer

Born in starry starry skies
Starry starry cosmos
Descending beautiful

Maybe you might give me a kiss
In all your infinite knowing  
Something too beautiful for this world
At the moment when Oblivion opens
Its arms to me
Comments?

I have used some vague references to Vincent by Don McLean as well. :)
Benji James Jul 2018
Never felt this confident
(In love)
Baby girl
It's not enough
To say I'm in love
I never expected this

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Am I nervous
(No)
Got butterflies,
From the moment
I look into your eyes
Girl, please stay in my life
I've never been more alright.

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Is she perfect
(Yes)
Oh the way she talks to me
Girl, I'm falling to my knee's
Never been addicted
To someone like this
Your lipstick stains my lips
From the touching
When we kiss

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

Every time we walk
Along the beach
At night
I'm holding your hand
Then our eyes meet
And we fall into the sand
Making out as the waves
Crash in the background
Something so wrong
Could ever feel so right
Yeah I have never felt more alive

There are so many things
I gotta say to you
But let me just
Start by saying

I wanna kiss you
under the waterfall
Beneath the starry sky
(We can do it all)
Nothing so wrong
Could ever feel this right
Girl I've never felt more alive

©2018 Written By Benji James
I had to re-upload these lyrics again, just because these lyrics are in my new Youtube video. If you would like to watch it. This is the link... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91o885A8DdY
Donall Dempsey Jun 2023
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off the moon.

Plucked out the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I
A flower that smells of pure bliss keeps an ear to the ground
It's a serene one sitting beneath the stars down on earth
The moon, far, far, seven seas away, loves to drop into her lap.

The Bay of Bengal billows, music has gotten beneath the skin.
The leaves furl out off the deep wood with the birds
singing out to the top of the trees, rhyming with the leafy dance.
Heavensent, that was in one sanguine day in the spring.
The Mother’s Language Movement in 1952 sprouted like this
on the eighth of native Falgun month—oh magic did it unleash!

On that day our beloved brothers were shot dead
They could swallow the bullets with smiles but won’t give up
demanding the official status for the Bangla mother tongue.
Angels wrapped round the martyrs amid lamenting mothers
Laid them on Falgun’s perfumed ground bleeding corpses
Seas of roses bloomed and blew them out red, red kisses!

They are gone not the stone wall of consciousness they raised
Ah, at the sprout of the spring what were they echoing?
Ingrained deep in the soil the pre-designing voice in the planning?
Who can tell? The world gels on February 21 in celebrating!

The angels then snapped up our martyrs’ souls off the land,
placed them on a piece of Heaven where they can hear the jingle.
Down on earth, a nation springs up, has gotten its wake up call!
Stepping on the sweetening arc of the mother tongue melody
the stone turns a flower, all in a butterfly moment soaring to victory.
Thanks to the movement - Bangladesh itself later comes to be!

II
The sun comes down to the rose painting on the land
In the heavenly Falgun hues it nibbles some wild summer dreams.
“Serene songs of earth stirring the water,” like it comes into play,
rowing the cloud bubbles singing in southern breeze.
Ah, a walk on the sun-kissed kaleidoscope land is a pure bliss.  
Every blossom spray of the wind is soothing sweet
Hop on and play straight to the ruby heart, as if it's a flute.

Mother tongue means speak free, fearless, in full streaming.
Speak the heart to the world without the fear of losing the cloud
that will listen, bouncing back on the brink of the sky river.
Then what did one say, hear, or was awed by in the blooming Falgun?
Could it have been the spring humming in her native lingua
or King David singing in mother tongue by babbling brooks
what in any other language, even with a silver tongue, isn’t possible?

Allah has listened to our martyrs’ crying mothers and fathers
The martyrs’ souls whisk through the galaxies and starry fair.
Soar high over the clouds, take the rainbow's *** of gold away,
like a hue turns 360-degree in the colourwheel bask into the colour.
still, dip the toes in Bangla mother’s soil salted with perfumed art
like Himalayan water swirling down melting deeper deep down
this magicland is polished for everyone be it you, a fairy, a star
or off the ploughed-out barrow a walked out wonder!

A pristine voice duo’s voiceprint gleans to the spring in muse,
Pops in a beauteous scurry and speaks in the mother tongue!
Hidden within the earthy depth, only emerges with time,
only dances in tangent, that day slipped out with the butterflies.
And finally the blue nymphs take the plunge drop down the sky  
that day the mother’s voice triumphed, whose is the most original!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Donall Dempsey Jun 2022
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off the moon.

Plucked out the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.
Brendan Thomas Mar 2014
Starry,starry night
Snow reflects
Blue,white light
Starry,starry night
Stars very rarely
Hang-out alone,

A perfect night sky
Lets this be known.

They come together
Forming a spectacular
Constellation,

Shining magnificently bright
In a festive celebration.

Subdued,
Gently glowing undertones
Of a perfect moon,

Allow each individual star's quality
To be extraordinarily exhumed.

A perfect,
Starry evening
Sadly comes to an end,

As dusk turns to dawn;
With it,
The sun it sends.

By Lady R.F.(C)2017
Brianna Aug 2014
I want to be your sunset eyes, those blue skies, you're perfect starry night.
I want to be the shore kissed by the sea, I want to have everything causally, I want you and me.
I want to be the waves when they dance alone, the midnight tone, I want to be your back bone.
I want to be your perfect scent, your missed rent, those days you feel you need to repent.
I want you to listen to these cheesy rhymes, feeding me these sweet lines, be together all the time.
I want to be your dark brown hair, the place back when we didn't care, the memories only we share.

I want you in all the ways I can say.
I'll want you forever and always each and every day.
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life?
Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you? 
Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable?

Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name?

Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself?
Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind?
Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things?
Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights?
Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself?
Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe?
Can it know you through and through and still desire you?

Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters?
Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened?

Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table
and spread its banner of love over you?
Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing?
Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself?
Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation? 
Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning?
Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes?
Can it turn your wailing into dancing?
Can it flood you with peace like a river?
Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions?
Can it know the way to lead you home?
Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold? 
Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free?

Can it ever truly be your Everything?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VeKgfUGtcI0
Hannah Elizabeth Jul 2013
This is an apology letter,
to the boy with starry-eyes.
I hope you know I'll love you,
until each one of us dies.
I'm sorry for how I treated you,
I'm sorry about our past.
I'd go back and do it again,
I'd try to make us last.
But sadly I cannot,
you don't love me anymore.
So I close myself off now,
I lock myself behind my door.
I do not wish to be disturbed,
I just want to weep.
But it ends up me writing,
and getting little to no sleep.
So starry-eyed boy, tell me,
did I ever make you grin?
Was what we had ever special,
or did you toss our love in the bin?
Starry-eyed boy,
I want to kiss you like before.
I want you to need me like I need you,
I want you to want me more.
But alas that cannot happen,
you're in love with my friend.
So all in all, starry-eyed boy,
this is where we end.
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
I followed my dear friends to the edge of a cliff
and was greeted by a peculiar thing.
There, standing on the edge of the earth
was a swing set waiting just for me.
Her thick black seat and strong metal arms
cradled me while together we flew
into the starry night canvas, sprawling
dark blue, except for a splatter of twinkling
firefly-speckles, from the cityscape
to the moon.

Each time she lifted me I felt closer
to the heavens. I raised my chin
and let the gentle kiss of raindrops
wash away my sins, cleansing
and revitalizing my body like a baptism.
I’ll never forget the smell of the rain
on the freshly-sprouted grass, with dew drops
made from the breath of my friends
hanging delicately in the sweet air
like glass beads strung on a wire
while the crisp wind carried me higher and higher
and the most brilliant masterpiece ever created
was painted across the entire night sky.
Megan Hundley Nov 2011
you don't understand at all do you
not truly
you think
I'm a liar
that I still hold the knife
that
stabbed you in the back
[and in the heart]

kinda speechless
that you feel that way
think that way
believe it
untrustworthy? misleading?
false emotions?
can you not read?
here let me try again
maybe I can make it like braille
feel the words

it's like when the clouds stormy eyes
welled up and let fall the
tears of weekend rain
soggy, we laughed along with the thunder
and under our waterfall we let the windows
fog
tell me I lied then

or picture if you will
standing by the tree I
always parked by
it was a starry night, but we didn't see it
we were too focused on our faces
except
why is it I was the only one
drowning in the sadness that overtook my eyes
shaking with each strained, choppy breath
clutching that gray shirt like a life jacket
do you think that was all
for show?

haven't you looked at
my collection of black and white
silly letters scribbled down as fast as possible
trying as hard as I can
to leave it all
on the paper
but it's as if each word I write
is a tattoo
slowly invading every part of my skin
it's sinking in, it's staining everything
do you think this agony I speak of
is fake?

if so
if I am that liar with the knife who
led you astray and "******* you over"
let you down, kicked you around
if you can't seem to
open your eyes
and notice
just how much I love you
just how much I always have

then you don't deserve it

ill run miles for you when I know I only
have the strength for one
but don't you
dare
watch me run
if you don't even grasp
that I stabbed myself in the back
led myself astray

you have a right to
hate the wound
but if you can't see
what I feel
one day
I will learn
that I have to let go
and I will

then all these silly letters
all for you

well. go ahead and throw them away
on that day
they will carry no life
anymore
CJ Manoos May 2017
it was a beautiful starry night when we were both drunk, lying on the sand
you told me bout your ugly and weird fascinations
i was intently listening to your most peculiar thoughts
there were moments when we could just shut up for a minute
but feel no awkwardness at all
i can hear you breathing
and that, i think, is still the best melody I've heard so far
sometimes i'd take a quick look at your face
you looked so happy, i almost thought i was dreaming, as if everything's not real
but no, it was profoundly true. we felt infinite. that was the only time i ever felt alive.
but that was then, life happened. and i don't know where you are now.
i wonder who's lying with you on the sand now, listening intently to your most peculiar thoughts
listening closely to your inhales and exhales
sharing the most comfortable silences with you
staring at the beautiful moonlight, feeling infinite. wishing the night would never end.
he must be so lucky.
SE Reimer Nov 2015
~

do you believe?  

hold that thought!

what you are about to take is a journey.  my telling of this journey is brief; we poets are after all not well known for our long attention spans.  this is a tale of astronomic proportions, an epic years in the making, and now centuries old.

have you ever considered this?  the starry host above us cannot lie.  its movements are as sure as the movement of the clock; as predictable as the tide, a sunset's hour and as precise as a moon-rise's geo-placement at our horizon- precisely where it will rise and at precisely what time.  it is after all  precisely the study and understanding of such things that allowed us to place mankind on the surface of the moon, to know precisely where she would be before she got there, therefore permitting us to plan the journey well ahead of time, a journey that took three days of travelling once it began...  and then returning those men home to us.  but back to our larger journey.  

such things only require an understanding of relatively simple mathematics and a knowledge of each unique planetary orbit.  the only questions remaining then, ones that require acceptance of less proveable things, is do the events of the starry host above us reflect back or point to us, to humanity? are they a fortelling of earthly events and eventuallly a coinciding with earthly events? some have trouble believing such things.  for me, it is not a leap to accept that the visibly established order above me (what we call astronomy) is simply a mirror of the order below, here surrrounding me.  but then that takes us back to the first question... do...   you...   believe?  for this part... it requires acceptance ... acceptance that some things are true, though i cannot see them.  some call this "faith," though i think "acceptance" is more relateable, and therefore a far better word.

if i have not lost you yet, thank you for reading this far!! please continue the journey.

like me, have you ever wondered... what is (or what was) the Bethlehem Star?  according to some who research historically astronomic events, the “Bethlehem Star” was no star at all.  but more on that after the poem... for is that not the purpose of these walls?  

below is a poem birthed out of their research... the poem mine, the research compiled by smarter folks than i.


Virgo's child

~

oh, planetary royalty,
and mother of the sky,
your celestial stage of six,
a ballad echoing our hopeful cry;
pirouette the stars amidst,
sets a course for rising king,
closer with each night's descent,
hope, your brilliant union brings.
conjunctive encore heaven sent,
today our song in advent sings!

oh, wise men of the east,
following a westward star,
the king you sought
you found because,
discontent you were,
to be a distant onlooker
from your home afar.

hallelujahs here composing,
with stunning care the stars portending,
in universal magnitude,
oh fallen man your dirge is ending.
in retrograding motion,
encircled thrice your halo spun,
Virgo’s child in coronation,
the starry night foretells,
and with splendid sky’s array
the joyful birth of king pronounces

oh, wise men of the east,
following a beckoning star,
bearing gifts you came,
and on bended knee
you offered praise, for
empty-handed for a king,
is no fitting offering.

look to the sky, you men of earth;
behold your king in humble birth!
a stable for his sleeping head,
here rocks a mother’s babe;
what Adam lost, in him restored,
oh, Virgo’s child, and living Lord.

~

*post script.

~ Cast~
the six acclaimed celestial actors/actresses of this starry dance

Role ° Played By ° ​Meaning/Symbol

Moon ° ​the Moon ° life cycle symbolism
Star ° ​Regulus​ ° ​King of stars (regal king)
Planet 1​ ° ​Jupiter ° ​King of planets
Planet 2 ° ​Venus ° ​Mother of planets
Constellation 1​ ° ​Leo ° ​the Lion (heavenly kingship and tribal significance)
Constellation 2 ° ​Virgo ° ​the ****** (maidenly and earthly significance)

the basis for this write can be found here...
add: http://www.
to: bethlehemstar.com/setting-the-stage/what-was-the-star/

in summary --
whatever it was, the Star of Bethlehem needs meet nine qualifications to plausibly satisfy what is written in the Biblical accounts:
1. The first conjunction signified birth by its association to the day with Virgo “birthing” the new moon. Some might argue that the unusual triple conjunction by itself could be taken to indicate a new king.
2. The Planet of King’s coronation of the Star of Kings signified kingship.
3. The triple conjunction began with the Jewish New Year and took place within Leo, showing a connection with the Jewish tribe of Judah (and prophecies of the Jewish Messiah).
4. Jupiter rises in the east.
5. The conjunctions appeared at precise, identifiable times.
6. Herod, puppet King under Roman rule, was unaware of these things; they were astronomical events which had significance only when explained by experts.
7. The events took place over a span of time sufficient for the Magi to see them both from the East and upon their arrival in Jerusalem.
8. Jupiter was ahead of the Magi as they traveled south from Jerusalem to Bethlehem.
9. Jupiter “stops” as it enters retrograde motion “over Bethlehem.”  On December 25 of 2 BC it enters retrograde and reaches full stop in its travel through the fixed stars. The Magi viewing from Jerusalem would have seen it “stopped” in the sky above the town of Bethlehem.

according to astronomical research of historical events, the “Bethlehem Star” is, at least by this explanation, no star at all, but was instead Jupiter’s rendezvous (planetary conjunction) with Venus in 2 BC.  this is a tale of two planets normally radiant and distinguishable forming a single-looking, indistinguishable, and never-before-in -their-life-time-appearing large and radiantly brilliant “star”, which when coupled with each of the previous eight facets creates a most noteworthy series of events, all of which match words written centuries previous, and pointed their gaze to a pivotal and altering point in mankind’s history.  

now back to the beginning question...  do...  you...  believe?

(publication of this write is intended to coincide with the first of the four Sundays of Advent, 2015.  tis the season for Merry Christmas, my friends!)

— The End —