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"wane" poems
Awakens not my wolf-man to the moon For that it shines a silver discus full, For he may rise when clouds the thickest dull The round moon’s lustre, or when the clock strikes noon. One sorceress alone doth have the pow’r T’arouse the beast, and he doth her obey; And from her side the beast doth never stray,— So loveth him the witch and the witching hour. Yet, by my troth, the wolf-man hath no love For her and hers which greater is than mine: By daylight, blackest night, or moony shine, My love doth neither wax nor wane nor rove. However, unlike the love the beast doth keep, My love can’t wake, for it doth never sleep.
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Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
Beast
Let the world always remember, That fateful day in September, And the ones who answered duty's call, Should be remembered by us all. Who left the comfort of their home, To face perils as yet unknown, An embodiment of goodness on a day, When men's hearts had gone astray. Sons and daughters like me and you, Who never questioned what they had to do, Who by example, were a source of hope, And strength to others who could not cope. Heroes that would not turn their back, With determination that would not crack, Who bound together in their ranks, And asking not a word of thanks. Men who bravely gave their lives, Whose orphaned kids and widowed wives, Can proudly look back on their dad, Who gave this country all they had. Actions taken without regret, Heroisms we shall never forget, The ones who paid the ultimate price, Let's never forget their sacrifice. And never forget the ones no longer here, Who fought for the freedoms we all hold dear, And may their memory never wane, Lest their sacrifices be in vain. 09-30-10b.
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Dec 30, 2011
Dec 30, 2011 at 1:31 AM UTC
We Shall Never Forget (9-11 Tribute)
A Robin said: The Spring will never come, And I shall never care to build again. A Rosebush said: These frosts are wearisome, My sap will never stir for sun or rain. The half Moon said: These nights are fogged and slow, I neither care to wax nor care to wane. The Ocean said: I thirst from long ago, Because earth's rivers cannot fill the main.-- When Springtime came, red Robin built a nest, And trilled a lover's song in sheer delight. Grey hoarfrost vanished, and the Rose with might Clothed her in leaves and buds of crimson core. The dim Moon brightened. Ocean sunned his crest, Dimpled his blue, yet thirsted evermore.
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25.6k
A Wintry Sonnet
I like a man with fire in his bones And where his head should be, There is a home. And I wax and wane like the moon If you turn away you might miss me, I'll be gone soon.
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
From the Bed to the Tides
This level reach of blue is not my sea; Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun, Whose quiet ripples meet obediently A marked and measured line, one after one. This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm. I have a need of wilder, crueler waves; They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm. So let a love beat over me again, Loosing its million desperate breakers wide; Sudden and terrible to rise and wane; Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide That casts upon the heart, as it recedes, Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.
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19.7k
Fair Weather
It is a land with neither night nor day, Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain, Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away: While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane, No ebb and flow are there among the main, No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye, No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand, No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space, And loveless sea: no trace of days before, No guarded home, no time-worn restingplace No future hope no fear forevermore.
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15.4k
Cobwebs
All I ever do Is Wax and Wane. And I still feel like I love you
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Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
Untitled
The half moon shows a face of plaintive sweetness Ready and poised to wax or wane; A fire of pale desire in incompleteness, Tending to pleasure or to pain:-- Lo, while we gaze she rolleth on in fleetness To perfect loss or perfect gain. Half bitterness we know, we know half sweetness; This world is all on wax, on wane: When shall completeness round time's incompleteness, Fulfilling joy, fulfilling pain?-- Lo, while we ask, life rolleth on in fleetness To finished loss or finished gain.
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The Half Moon
Just be real friend. Be who you are, and where you are at. That's enough, and it's the only way forward. Most of us have put on enough masks in our life time, to have completely forgotten our original face. We've become far too clad with the heavy coats of expectation, suffocating under the weight of the ways we think we ought to be. You can drop that garb. There's always mystery at the naked core of who you are, and that's just fine. It's not that we must rediscover some definable self, and hand that image over for validation. Rather, those solid definitions we cart around with us are heavy enough as it is, but we've continued pushing them despite the distress. We've gotten so used to that awkward play of needing to be a somebody, as if that somebody were other than who we already are. We've forgotten how to let go with all the spontaneity of a flowers growth; forgotten the beauty of our own personal bloom. That we are a fluid sweep of light and dark. That our faces, like the moons, wax and wane. You don't have to be any which way, other than the way you are. That sort of self acceptance is the innate flourish, is the fluid self cycle, is the way back into life. Don't fool yourself into believing there is a better disguise. Strip down to the bare beauty of your authentic state in this moment, and move from there.
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
Authenticity
O Lady Moon, your horns point toward the east: Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point toward the west: Wane, be at rest.
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10.5k
O Lady Moon
Far back in the ages, The plough with wreaths was crowned; The hands of kings and sages Entwined the chaplet round; Till men of spoil disdained the toil By which the world was nourished, And dews of blood enriched the soil Where green their laurels flourished: --Now the world her fault repairs-- The guilt that stains her story; And weeps her crimes amid the cares That formed her earliest glory. The proud throne shall crumble, The diadem shall wane, The tribes of earth shall humble The pride of those who reign; And War shall lay his pomp away;-- The fame that heroes cherish, The glory earned in deadly fray Shall fade, decay, and perish. Honour waits, o'er all the Earth, Through endless generations, The art that calls her harvests forth, And feeds the expectant nations.
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8.6k
Ode For An Agricultural Celebration
I say blood marbled floors and boats somewhere on the Ganges River Africa? no. wait—I think it’s sadness that flows out every hole onto the plain into the water out of the well all of the elephants swallowed and digested down to the bones on colors on sky diamonds on lovely wax and wane this river these people blood and guts cooking tradition knowing that it’s the last meal to throw to the gods in the water
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC
I witness India on the back of my hand
Dim vales—and shadowy floods— And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can’t discover For the tears that drip all over Huge moons there wax and wane— Again—again—again— Every moment of the night— Forever changing places— And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces. About twelve by the moon-dial One more filmy than the rest (A kind which, upon trial, They have found to be the best) Comes down—still down—and down With its centre on the crown Of a mountain’s eminence, While its wide circumference In easy drapery falls Over hamlets, over halls, Wherever they may be— O’er the strange woods—o’er the sea— Over spirits on the wing— Over every drowsy thing— And buries them up quite In a labyrinth of light— And then, how deep!—O, deep! Is the passion of their sleep. In the morning they arise, And their moony covering Is soaring in the skies, With the tempests as they toss, Like—almost any thing— Or a yellow Albatross. They use that moon no more For the same end as before— Videlicet a tent— Which I think extravagant: Its atomies, however, Into a shower dissever, Of which those butterflies, Of Earth, who seek the skies, And so come down again (Never-contented thing!) Have brought a specimen Upon their quivering wings.
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Fairyland
Diamonds are forever Because they're carbon And we're carbon She wants to last forever But she's going on 37 Honey I feel your pain as my strength will wax and wane That's why diamonds last forever Because they're carbon Heated carbon She wants to smile forever But today she's sad as ever That's why diamonds are forever Because they're carbon Under pressure Darling close your eyes And smile one more time And honey I feel your pain As my joints begin to pain That's why diamonds are forever Because they're hardened She just wants to remain beautiful But that's a shallow pool to swim And honey I feel your pain As my love brings sorrow again That's why diamonds are forever Because they're diamonds And we're diamonds She just wants to learn And that's no one else's concern And honey I feel your pain  As I stitch my scars again And that's why diamonds are forever Because they're diamonds And we're She just wants to take her time And not be crowded by the lies And honey I feel your pain But I don't want to waste my time aga in And that's why diamonds are forever Because they're diamonds And we're dying
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Dec 23, 2017
Dec 23, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
Forever diamonds
Over on the crescent wing The bitter gales bring waves of rain: Listen. Frozen windows sing. Enraptured by the searing pain Like pestilence in hurricane. Buildings rise up to the halls Impenetrable planet-bane As summer lost, and spring withal. Then the writhing storm-clouds bring A storm of ice and wind again: The sun rears up, but sets during. And past the steel-laden plane Silver orbs first wax, then wane Then plaster to the mighty wall Midnight buses, lane-by-lane, Of nature not, but city fool. Ascended like a spiteful King The whispers rise, then sink in shame No sound is here, no, not a thing. Soaking in like liquor-stains The buildings survey their domain Not city-life, nor life at all; They wander in the pouring rain Where love is lost beneath the sprawl. Tears and laughter, much the same All are whispers, doomed to fall. Dystopia without a name: Not so distant after all.
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
Distant Dystopia
sprinkle your love over me like cherry blossoms in spring where everywhere everywhere everywhere are littered with pinks but then summer came and you forget about valencia like the sun forgets the sky and I drop petal by petal flowers by flowers and the streets are steeped in longing autumn came and left, breathing life into a crocus and drawing it away just as quickly like how you take each of my breath away from me and each of my heart beat walks away with your steps the blurriness of winter borne the snowdrops snowdrops, snow drops, the death of that love that once bloomed in my heart.
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May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
Wane
Let not this love fall into discontent, Nor my eyes accustom to her allure. Let not the sight of her cease wonderment, Nor my passion bore with beauty demure. Let not my lips stop quiv’ring for her kiss, Nor my fingers ache for her velvet hair. Let not my arms embrace with avarice, Nor my desire leave anything to spare. Let not her beauty ever be passé, Nor my heart not yearn for her naked breast. Let not making love miss a single day, Nor lying beside her allow us rest. Let not me take for granted her boudoir, Nor my love for her wane even a bit. Let not my lustful eyes ever look far, Nor my body ablaze become unlit.
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Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
Let Not Eros Die
‘Hemphu’ and ‘Mukrang’ Created this world! We were born under the ‘Amora tree’ from the egg of ‘Wo Plak Pi’. Then ‘Sum’ and ‘Sang’ trained us, Edify us ‘karjong is everywhere’ It is there in air, soil, water, plant, animal..... Every where! So we must have admiration for them, Must nurture and protect them! Hearting ‘Krjong’ is a crime! Now everywhere There is a Chaos! Rain fades away Forest disappears ‘Ingnar’ and ‘Bongkrui’ar are suffering from starvation! Searching food here and there! Now everywhere There is a bedlam! ‘Hanthu’ and ‘Mehek’ are wane Searching them in day and night! How we prepare food for ‘Thong Nokbe’! Now ‘Hi-i-Arnam’ is wandering Everywhere! Call everybody Organize ‘Cho-jun’ to Keep karjong everywhere! Call one and all organize ‘Rong Arnam’ To shield karjong everywhere! Call everyone organize ‘Wophong Rongker’ To protect ‘karjong’ everywhere!
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
Call for protecting ‘Karjong’!
These miss you nights go on forever Echoes from my mind, to my heart Through my core ~ Yet they never Whisper any notion of When the waiting will be over Misty coloured mornings Gradually appease daylight hours Into nights injuriously Adept in loneliness. You are not here To wane these solitary nights That go on endlessly My security, is your love A deep feeling of joyfulness From the second I looked in your eyes When I saw my name Written in your soul On the nights - I miss you most These are the moments I console myself with Until the dream becomes a living reality
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 6:26 AM UTC
Miss You Nights
[From Fragments,  The Following...] ... so it was that the Urth bled less. The Birch Moot was becalmed by the Anvil Cloud of Impending Deluge. The Young Gods made sport of Their Names, and aimed to Oblique the colony of clever flesh groping at the tender roots of an insipid devastation. The First Ones had vanished. But Time was born and the Mortal Whirl released the Hounds of Change. Transition fused - with the Eternal; and the offspring of unloved Spirits, roamed the Tangible. All Suffering was amplified in the diamond lungs of a divine corpse, dreaming. ... for when the iron heart of The Cast Out was retrieved, the Legion of Heaven poured unseemly Grace upon the Fathoms and the High King of Doubt, forced his blade ' Nimue ' into the soft palette, of the First Mouth.  The Stars were born and The Void overheard the First Naming. A solid drizzle of enchantment cloaked the oaken Yggdrasil and The Pattern unleashed the folly of Pattern to mask the virtue of succinct Chaos. The Children of The Lower Sky ate their Masters and thereby swollen - gathered in the underbrush of the Fecund. They came to Know Regret by Answering Prayers. The Kingdoms of Wane were waning in the fearsome riot of Creation and not a boy, a man from no woman and no woman a man. ... the siege lights of the petty stars, babbled in the wake of yawning eruption and nullification. the ****** theater of blood was made Holy by way of forcing camels into eyes of needles in constant dystopian joy. ... and that's how the rain gets in. [ From the ' Kingdoms Of Wane ', a Lost Tome from Antiquity and Dada ] What ?
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Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
LOST TOME LULLABIES, THE KINGDOMS OF WANE [ WITH COMMENTARY ]
[From Fragments,  The Following...] ... so it was that the Urth bled less. The Birch Moot was becalmed by the Anvil Cloud of Impending Deluge. The Young Gods made sport of Their Names, and aimed to Oblique the colony of clever flesh groping at the tender roots of an insipid devastation. The First Ones had vanished. But Time was born and the Mortal Whirl released the Hounds of Change. Transition fused - with the Eternal; and the offspring of unloved Spirits, roamed the Tangible. All Suffering was amplified in the diamond lungs of a divine corpse, dreaming. ... for when the iron heart of The Cast Out was retrieved, the Legion of Heaven poured unseemly Grace upon the Fathoms and the High King of Doubt, forced his blade ' Nimue ' into the soft palette, of the First Mouth.  The Stars were born and The Void overheard the First Naming. A solid drizzle of enchantment cloaked the oaken Yggdrasil and The Pattern unleashed the folly of Pattern to mask the virtue of succinct Chaos. The Children of The Lower Sky ate their Masters and thereby swollen - gathered in the underbrush of the Fecund. They came to Know Regret by Answering Prayers. The Kingdoms of Wane were waning in the fearsome riot of Creation and not a boy, a man from no woman and no woman a man. ... the siege lights of the petty stars, babbled in the wake of yawning eruption and nullification. the ****** theater of blood was made Holy by way of forcing camels into eyes of needles in constant dystopian joy. ... and that's how the rain gets in. [ From the ' Kingdoms Of Wane ', a Lost Tome from Antiquity and Dada ] What ?
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Deep within a leafy dell There lived a hairy fairy Who very often cast a spell That was frightening and scary. The only friend the fairy had Was an old green warty toad, He never thought the fairy bad, Just lonely and old. So he’d sit with her and croak And watch her practice magic. She very rarely often spoke, This to him was tragic. The fairy dress; the fairy wore Had seen better days. It was ***** tattered, creased and tore The hem hung loose in frays. Her head seemed always in a cloud, He never saw her smile, Her wand no longer taut and proud But still she was not vile. Somewhere inside he saw her love; He longed to be her mate, So he prayed to God above And asked her for a date. She thought he saw her as a joke. He was playing with her heart. Up she went, in a puff of smoke, That gave the toad a start. Never having seen this done before He had a mixed-up feeling. His warts and looks she must abhor And she found him unappealing. For days he waited there for her Because he was alarmed; A toad and fairy love was rare He thought she might be charmed. If she would only hear him out, That he may just explain. Then she, he felt, could have no doubt His love just would not wane. But if his looks she hated so, Then this he’d have to take. He’d just hop-off; away he’d go, Take bravely his mistake. He realised, ‘how sad it is, I never asked her name.’ With one loud bang and mighty **** Back to his side she came. “It occurred to me, you might be kind, My name is Nuff,” the fairy cried, “And I can read your mind.” “Fairy Nuff,” the toad replied. Then she kissed him on his cheek A shock that made him wince. Before he had a chance to speak He was a fairy Prince. She was beautiful and young, Like his clothes, hers were new. A love that’s ‘Magic’ is not wrong Especially for these two.
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Dec 7, 2009
Dec 7, 2009 at 11:13 AM UTC
FAIRY NUFF
Deep within a leafy dell There lived a hairy fairy Who very often cast a spell That was frightening and scary. The only friend the fairy had Was an old green warty toad, He never thought the fairy bad, Just lonely and old. So he’d sit with her and croak And watch her practice magic. She very rarely often spoke, This to him was tragic. The fairy dress; the fairy wore Had seen better days. It was ***** tattered, creased and tore The hem hung loose in frays. Her head seemed always in a cloud, He never saw her smile, Her wand no longer taut and proud But still she was not vile. Somewhere inside he saw her love; He longed to be her mate, So he prayed to God above And asked her for a date. She thought he saw her as a joke. He was playing with her heart. Up she went, in a puff of smoke, That gave the toad a start. Never having seen this done before He had a mixed-up feeling. His warts and looks she must abhor And she found him unappealing. For days he waited there for her Because he was alarmed; A toad and fairy love was rare He thought she might be charmed. If she would only hear him out, That he may just explain. Then she, he felt, could have no doubt His love just would not wane. But if his looks she hated so, Then this he’d have to take. He’d just hop-off; away he’d go, Take bravely his mistake. He realised, ‘how sad it is, I never asked her name.’ With one loud bang and mighty **** Back to his side she came. “It occurred to me, you might be kind, My name is Nuff,” the fairy cried, “And I can read your mind.” “Fairy Nuff,” the toad replied. Then she kissed him on his cheek A shock that made him wince. Before he had a chance to speak He was a fairy Prince. She was beautiful and young, Like his clothes, hers were new. A love that’s ‘Magic’ is not wrong Especially for these two.
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i dont think you understand there a demonic side to me he lurks beneath the surface just waiting to break free i no longer trust myself in making these decisions these illusions call me out shot me down with precision and they're a perfect marksmen shots only made by the best and i'm hiding within myself afraid of all the rest tho this should make no sense these shadows are my own the perfect marksmen are false images my mind has grown yet here they stand and somehow so real seeing them spun me around i dont know what to feel i keep telling myself everyone has this pain but im faking this smile and its really starting to wane i force it till its back thankful for all this strength made from pain hiding in the darkness
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Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 7:12 AM UTC
Suicide
She's a skeptic for crystal bones doesn't believe in God's treasured           zodiac prophecies.                          Be jealous of the wolves we still call sheep. You were my lover; now the moon shines                 in utmost sympathy for all those frigid nights stars bit at your ears for the choices you've                      made in cold song. Stop drumming your heart to the sound of my sky              Lupus told me to tell you                    it doesn't belong a                          vagabond such                                as yourself. If you can't cut off my tongue, then who are you to silence                     me? The moon is flashing like the bullets                 I've been catching between                  my teeth. Like all of the night's phases and heartbreak; **The phases of love will wax                       and wane.** .
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
Heads of Lion, Tails of Wolf
My heart yearns for an adventure For a strange and rare venture Oblivious of the tons of dangers For in adventures I ain’t a stranger For I would relieve childhood years That I spent with my little peers. An adventure in distant lands Where the children play with wet sands. And dolphins jump out of water When the noon sun makes the ocean hotter. Where the fisherman yaw his boat To capture all the salmon afloat. An adventure by the oasis in the Sahara desert Where Tuaregs sit by the cactus to eat dessert. And watch as scorpions prey on lizards To feast on their gizzards. I want day sun to warm my smooth skin And the night cold to shiver my crude chin. An adventure cuddling cold snow on my hand Where the icy pillars in their majesty stand. And make a cave of snow Strong to stand when wind blow. Then I will scare the polar bear That my cave like a paper wants to tear. An adventure on the corn field When in summer the flowers yield When the butterflies pollinates the corns And the farmer weeds out the thorns I want to watch the corn spring to life When the early rain is rife An adventure across the sky in a plane And watch as daylight slowly wane. I want to leave a route on the sky That in the future I would still ply. Then immortalize my name in the cloud That dark clouds in their anger cannot shroud. An adventure deep in the amazon woods When the purple squirrel burrow for food. Where the monkey sway their tails And red roses litter narrow trails. I want to watch the ants builds their mounds As the ripe mangoes fall on the ground. An adventure that will lead to places Leaving on all its paths my traces. Permanents prints that will last Even when my life like history is past. And my adventure would be told as a tale That like time will not stale.
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Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
an adventure
My heart yearns for an adventure For a strange and rare venture Oblivious of the tons of dangers For in adventures I ain’t a stranger For I would relieve childhood years That I spent with my little peers. An adventure in distant lands Where the children play with wet sands. And dolphins jump out of water When the noon sun makes the ocean hotter. Where the fisherman yaw his boat To capture all the salmon afloat. An adventure by the oasis in the Sahara desert Where Tuaregs sit by the cactus to eat dessert. And watch as scorpions prey on lizards To feast on their gizzards. I want day sun to warm my smooth skin And the night cold to shiver my crude chin. An adventure cuddling cold snow on my hand Where the icy pillars in their majesty stand. And make a cave of snow Strong to stand when wind blow. Then I will scare the polar bear That my cave like a paper wants to tear. An adventure on the corn field When in summer the flowers yield When the butterflies pollinates the corns And the farmer weeds out the thorns I want to watch the corn spring to life When the early rain is rife An adventure across the sky in a plane And watch as daylight slowly wane. I want to leave a route on the sky That in the future I would still ply. Then immortalize my name in the cloud That dark clouds in their anger cannot shroud. An adventure deep in the amazon woods When the purple squirrel burrow for food. Where the monkey sway their tails And red roses litter narrow trails. I want to watch the ants builds their mounds As the ripe mangoes fall on the ground. An adventure that will lead to places Leaving on all its paths my traces. Permanents prints that will last Even when my life like history is past. And my adventure would be told as a tale That like time will not stale.
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