Best Moonstones Poems
It feels like the world
has been struck by a
plague of pathological lies,
where fictional truth
seems to sell better,
the allure of
imitation glistens
even brighter,
while superficial tongues
recite infected mantras,
praising slaves of Satan~
singing corpse lullabies.
And I can feel
my drained soul
descending
into darkness,
as this cathartic
sanctuary
slowly decays,
into odds and ends
of incessant numbness.
Spikes drive through
this splintered ribcage,
shackling my life force,
to silently bleed
in salvation.
I feel the scorching
iron ore entering
my splitting heart,
as they watch
the crimson flow,
mocking my
doomed empathy.
For kindness
is disregarded,
in a cynical world
that has no mercy,
falling into an
abyss of tears,
awaiting eternal sleep,
never to rise to
another devil’s trance,
whilst bleeding in
reckless reckoning.
I am the mistreated
mistress in misery,
stranded in the
midst of an
abandoned island~
cruising through
roaring waves,
in desperate hope
for butterfly bliss.
I trace
deadly deeds
in bloodstained
sea-castles,
pleading the lord,
to tether
the cold walls,
that hide all these
layers of brokenness.
Carvings of
chaos on my skin,
choreograph a
prodigious dance
of death,
commemorating
creased calm,
with prophetic
songs that
have no life.
For the coldest
breeze still
lingers in circles,
from the pits of
an out-burnt mountain,
reluctant to rearrange
dried up poison,
with their cape
of sentiments,
in cold refrains
and resentment.
Yet I question the
cosmic Peridots
scattered between
moonstones in
artless skies.
How can a poet
make the dead
seem beautiful again,
when musty maggots
are the only
fillings they would get?
I hope you would still remember me as we were,
every time you see pristine
passing pomegranate hues of the horizon.
When clouds smear our unspoken love
in inexplicable figurines,
of those simple moments we
reignited beneath our own twilight,
reliving our dreams in
remaining rosy dialects of romantic recollections,
as I have a confession to make
beneath this cluttering of chaos.
I wasn’t ready to let you nor our late night conversations go,
After all these years, all my heart ever desires,
is for you to see the broken empire
behind these weary eyes.
I have long been a gift of solitude and sorrow,
But as I’ve let you go, my hopes swayed a lilac
feathered goodbye,
Although you’ll never know how a simple hey,
once upon a time, saved my life,
and embellished my universe with pearlescent
moonstones and amethysts.
Yet I still question you, in rustic rhymes you can’t comprehend,
Have you forgotten how to pronounce my name?
is it because your heart doesn’t feel the same?
Have your desires now become tame?
As you walk away, why am I the one to take the blame?
Is our love now lost in history?
Is that why you’ve left me in so much mystery?
In your absence the mind battles against violence.
All is mute in a void of meaningless silence.
Did you forget to love me today?
Is this the price I have to pay?
Just for you to say that you’ll love me
again in the same way, someday.
In the manicured meadow
of woeful weeds,
where hope sprouts amidst
forlorn fragrance of frozen seeds,
I dance to the hypnotic breeze,
hanging on saintly strings with
cosmic eyes, unraveling the
emerald iris of sacred skies,
orchestrating songs
of sonorous seasons,
searching for rhythmic revelations,
as spring-butterflies
flicker peacock promises,
gliding above rippling
star-jeweled visions,
like prominent parachutes,
symbolizing pearlescent presence~
of sanguine scriptures,
shimmering as ethereal radiance,
within this enlightened heart.
I refuse to let egoistic entities
enter my perennial sanctuary
blossoming with
halcyon hibiscus hymns.
For within lunar-glazed lentils
magical magnolias hibernate
in mere mindfulness~
unfolding a voiceless
poetic gallery
of chromatic colors,
bursting with incandescent flares
of iceless moonstones,
resting between merciful tremors
of unwavering faith,
counting tears that fall like
golden streaks on the
roof of charismatic creations,
eagerly adorning the horizon,
as pristine prayers ricochet,
to the impotent tunes
of immaterial repentance.
So tonight, I’ll allow
graceful galaxies to
sprinkle blissful-beams,
laced in lotus love,
perfumed with patience,
as my pen perseveres,
with persistent passion,
to sincerely seek
righteous refrains,
of divine magnetism,
letting ego perish,
when heat of worldly lies
suffocate the soft skin I wear,
yet they remain
unaware of inked henna herbs
of violet devotion~
I’ve designed in kismet zest,
through linear lines floating,
with vermilion verses,
in charming cadence,
to the alluring anthems of
an unbreakable dawn,
while silhouette
of my psyche swirls,
spellbound by the
enthralling influence of
celestial zephyr.
Eroticism -
a supple spine in a wanting curve
and a foolish fever simmers a scarlet heartbeat—
temptation is an aphrodisiac
and guilt— a red kite lost in a hot hurricane
a strand of blue moonstones plunge to titillate
illicit points of contact caught by starlight
restless yin-nerve-endings take an edgy stance—
primal presence pearls beneath parted flimsy fabric
ah.. gossamer chic taken and tossed by windy hands
freeing moons and earth captured in your orbit
golden hair a dirty tangle flies— streamers
of infidelity seized in someone else’s hands
heat-seeking rhythm throbs within walls
a slappin’ poppin’ bass line frenzy
our bodies wild like a warehouse rave
a driving beat hugging hips caught in a fishnet shimmy
high on oxytocin and fizz of affaire du jour—
unbridled breakers breaking vows in a whipped up gale
as hedonistic hot spots revel in unrestrained spindrift
.. it’s a jungle for conjugal love ..
volcanic ash streaks a feral romance
carnal cat (a hungry stippled stray)
pins me down like prey in a dopamine storm
where edges rendezvous soft and hard and fuse
a silhouette of geometry body-painted in black sands
as the surge uncurls the waves—
dreamscape escape on a slick onyx sheet
nakedness blurs in the rough charcoal smudge
shapes shaded with a roll on the rim of a graphite night
the art of cheating sins stain a seedy portrait on skin
yet basks in the moonbeam’s push into the pulse
without mercy or justification—
just unadulterated
adulterated
euphoria!
dreamland paved with
moonstones, reflecting
within themselves the dark light of
my nightmares, shelters in
its core the essence of
fear, sweetened only
by some amber-
like glow of the passing of
a summer storm…you see,
lightning isn’t meant
to live forever…and while
i endow the sky with the
ashes left behind by the
touch of your soul on mine,
summoning for a phoenix seems
to be the darkest magic my words
ever did…
I have a friend who is, to the best of my knowledge, a magpie.
All shiny, all sparkles of metal and glass are placed in my palm as a little gift, a bit of treasure.
So maybe then, she's a pirate. One Long John Silver with a golden tooth and a keen eyed parrot. And she pillages and purges to bring me little metal castles, radio faces, moonstones and roses and bright button badges.
Just like a Brownie. On a long brown sash wrapped around my chest. She brings me glittering adornments that glow with my achievements.
One day, I'll give her treasure for her nest.
We have sunflowers and sunspots.
Both brilliant, yellow, and dazzling.
You can sniff one, but not the other.
Both delicate, and powerful.
Moonstones with rainbow power
can be iridescent and comforting.
Moon landings, not so easy.
Mooning – not as appealing.
Word play can be delightful.
Thinking on paper.
Ideas popping out, escaping into yellow sunflowers.
Or mooning your audience, taking you to another world.
Your ideas might simply find themselves
turning into a nice crisp clean cool harvest moon
or a sizzling hot sunspot, blurring your reader’s eyes.
Never know where words will take you, until they do.
I feel sorry for the non-readers, who are missing
Tens of thousands of words, seeing squiggles and dots.
Not recognizing words at all – not conjuring sunflowers or
Moonstones. Glad we have photography and nature for them.
"J" With Four Options 7-30-25
Family and friends are God given the treasures to our hearts – the precious jewels that adorn our lives. Quote by poet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Precious Jewels
Companions on my journey precious jewels
Each a treasure in my heart
When I grow weary their ruby strength
Leads me rest in lush valleys
Where peridot sparkle
Chases the ebony of night
Into topaz silence
Like faithful dragonflies
With soothing balms in amethyst visions
Like emerald leaves of my youth
They whisper of turquoise skies W
When days had no wrinkles
Dispelling tears of cloudy occlusions
With diamond purity of carved onyx
Remembering each one engraved in the facets
As I gather precious pearls of our memories
From morning moonstones and garnet twilights
Into a diadem
Of good and faithful friends and family
Gifts from a king without a birthday
A Moon Tale
by Shirley Rebstock
As the moon rose high in the sky, a beautiful moonbow* splashed moonbeams through the new growth of moonflowers. Sitting at the edge of the pond, the moonfaced mooncalf* stared into the rippling water as the moonfish darted quickly here and there. The moonraker* was supposed to be moonlighting, selling moonstones, but he appeared moonstruck. Most likely, he sipped too much moonshine.
*mooncalf - a foolish person
*moonraker - a simpleton
*moonbow - rainbow formed by moonlight
Bibliography: all moon words attributed to page 866 of THE RANDOM HOUSE COLLEGE DICTIONARY Revised Edition 1983
Sink your poisoned dragonfly wings in my chiffon atoms of smothered skin,
As I lay supine, along dusk's apathetic horizons, husky and hoaxed,
For, I'm a kin of blood-moon, gnawing at ivory moonstones and ocean's fins,
As a broken carmine harp, that blooms kohl-orchids from chartreuse stems, smoked,
If my fangs pierce through sun-sequined dawns, am I not grim reaper's broken ballerina?
As a wistful wildflower, I float in harbours of helium, weeping acidic dews,
Inhaling watercolor volcano's lifeless heartbeats, akin a frosted firebird,
Carving legends of medusa, on lilith's marble-canvas and mahogany adieus,
Rising as a seascape-myth on glossy shorelines, ebbing in onyx spirals, savoured,
If pine leaves strangle the trinkets of my throat, am I not a broken snowflake's last breath?
"I'm an orphan of poised Mars, swirling in solstitial meadows,
Of shipwrecked sonatas, saturating in igloo-hues of coiled shadows..."
Favorite Carolyn Devonshire Poem
History Rising from the Sea
Treasure from the sea
Golden doubloon
Sixteenth century artifact
By ancestors hewn
Earth's history lays buried
Beneath five oceans
As undersea tremors
Create violent commotions
Freeing from Spanish galleons
Precious metals, gemstones,
To greet early beachcombers
History on loan
Memories of bygone ages
Scattered on the sand
Finally kissed by sun again
While in a searcher's hand
I pursue this morning trek
With Atlantis on my mind
Seeking proof at last
In treasures I might find
When ancient civilations
Seem to disappear
Comb the beach, you might find
The evidence is here
For from a phoenix rising
New finds appear each day
And I'll not stop searching
Till doubts I can allay
Caroline and I shared of love of water - she the ocean and I lakes and Puget Sound. Her poems flow like tides - effortlessly - with bits of wisdom scattered like treasures of seashells or driftwood found on the beach. This poem speaks of our mutual love of beachcombing for treasures and the pondering of history brought to mind by life's flotsam.
The poem below represents my tribute to Carolyn.
Girl on a Dolphin
Stargazing ocean pixie
Rides the playful weathered waves
To surf the ocean tides
With laughing dolphins
Leaps to catch Delphinus
Starfarer in a star bound chrysalis
To ride this five star celestial constellation
On heaven sent lapis astral waters
Wearing moonstones like Apollo’s poetry
Where starry Aquila flies to Lyra’s music.
Salt spattered waves only gaze
At a girl – eternal sea sprite –
That sits atop a stellar dolphin
And feels the shell torn loss
Of feet that danced through tidal pools,
Delight and awe surging through her signature,
As time bound day searches midnight legends
To align in twinkling sidereal day –
A quest for remnant memories in verses
Of a star born spirit – girl riding on a dolphin.
For Carolyn
8-19-21
Contest: Celebrating Carolyn's Poetry – Not a Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
The constellation Delphinus is made up of five stars and can be seen between the constellations of Aquila, the Eagle, and Lyra, the Lyre. It is named for two Greek legends based on dolphins one of which tells of Apollo setting a dolphin in the sky in gratitude for saving the Greek poet Arion. Apollo is the god of music and poetry.
Open now your mindful murmured undertones,
Your whispered washing watery whisking words,
Your sensitive sensory sensual sentient moonstones,
Your rippling roving river rapid songbirds.
Open now your stargaze spectral drifting dreams,
Your view of the darkest soundless vacuum space,
Your fleeting teleport outside of space-time streams,
Your clearest atoms, the first angels with no trace.
Open now your earliest breaths from the start,
Your trajectory then across the heaven’s girth,
Your recorded path shapes and sizes your heart,
Your sublunary gushing leaves behind your dearth.
You’re unsure what lurks beyond this flash of seeing.
Karmic lessons might await you for your next being.
Her eyes are like moonstones that glow with a faint light
Her warmth envelopes me with a feeling that's so nice
She trust me with her feelings and i trust her with mine
Ignoring the haters as our hands entwine
Chills spread through me with her every touch
Her eyes look at mine as they fill up with lust
We laugh as we walk in the moonlight
When she is next to me everything feels so right
My mind empties with each and every kiss
Eyes mirror mine, she's drowning in bliss
She's my angel sent to me from above
Together forever enveloped in love
All of a sudden everything goes black
I open my eyes and realize where I'm at
Sadly i get up and gather my school things
The love that i felt was only a dream
Form:
storm in the air and loud thunder
but as I recall
it was a sunny day
puffy clouds that spelled your future
but not mine, not ours
gates locked because the truth was a fire hazard
I said I would help
I said my pleasure
I said I was happy for you
feelings are only for the weak they said
you don’t look up enough when you’re driving
you laugh too much at the radio
and because you can’t sing
I don’t think you noticed
the sign on route 24 read ‘merge’
I wasn’t really smiling
of course I didn’t want that
that stinging feeling
bumblebees on honey suckles
it’s just that sometimes
you help another to get another
cunning foxes and Aesop told me so
I was well written
but an unused book
always claiming to myself I would be read tomorrow
now I sit in the passenger seat
my thoughts in murky moonstones
listening to your lovely terrible singing
I think you learned how to turn left in order
to make a right turn
He was a spaceman not a man
He came from the sky one night
The day is remembered in history
It was like the arrival of an Arabian king
Or when Cleopatra arrived to meet Caesar
The word of the arrival tickled the ear
Of all that were near and far
They were all surprised by his unexpected turn
Surprised that the celestial forces moved
Even the mountains where in awe of his procession
Even more stunned by the form he bore
Not the spaceman that we have seen
Sculpted on stones and constellations.
He was a spaceman not a man
He came from the sky to
Show us things never imagined
Moonstones and star dust we never
Knew that we could touch
Kings and queens wanted his concert
Far and wide he was well known
Many did love him, some feared him too
Never such a man was seen on earth
Who had the mystery of the above in his eye
And the enchantment of millenniums in his hands
Returned back to space when time was ripe
His mission complete and work done.