Long Moonstones Poems
Long Moonstones Poems. Below are the most popular long Moonstones by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moonstones poems by poem length and keyword.
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.
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?
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!
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.
IF ever I had a country : LIV - LV
LIV
IF ever I had even at an Event Horizon a country
And if ever I were by self-arrogated Divine Right His or Her Imperial Majesty
I'd clamp in pig-irons every one of the Courtiers y compris Sir Walter Raleigh
For any offence thought not to be higher or lower than lèse majesté
And have them all dumped in the cramped Black Hole of Calcutta without pity
For plotting and planning some centuries hence the Art of Conning the People through Democratic Demon-o-kratie
That is, if ever I were by self-arrogated Divine Right His or Her Imperial Majesty
And even if I never ever had at any Event Horizon no country
LV
IF ever I had even at an Event Horizon a country
And if ever I were by self-arrogated Divine Right the Heir Apparent future Imperial Majesty
I'd sit on His Majesty's Crown of stolen diamonds opels moonstones and gilded finery
To warn all my Princes Princesses Lords Ladies Dukes and Marquis on bended knee
That I'd send them forthwith down pitch-black Black Hole for standing uppity on their assumed Noble Ancestry
And remind them all every one of us are descended sans exception from the Black African humanity Tree
That is, if ever I were by self-arrogated Divine Right the Heir Apparent future Imperial Majesty
And even if I never ever had at no Event Horizon a country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, August 13, 2018
Anger washes through my blood streams
While dancing demons clatter within my dreams
Voices are heard with no where to run
When loud heat rays reflect from our sun
Shadows dancing left and right
From demonic eyes deep in the night
People screaming and running around
High whistles and demonic sounds
Children raising from the shallow graves
Trying to decipher my foggiest maze
No one will listen, no one will talk
No one will reach the top or walk the walk
How do you listen to deaf sounds?
How do you unbury graves within our grounds?
Who will answer when you call?
Who will pick you up when you begin to fall?
Children raising from our crooked tombstones
Werewolves howling throughout black moonstones
Screams of fright and hungry moans
Distant valleys and untold groans
Bloody mountains and poisonous snakes
Watching in horror as our precious dead wakes
The city up in smoke and fires
Compacted cars with nothing but tires
City of destruction, valley of hate
Do I try to run or accept this fate?
Everywhere I turn there’s zombies on all sides
While the ocean blows up with tsunami tides
Creatures forced to race from their homes
While faeries and fey collide with giant gnomes
Death screams twist and death screams moan
I’m completely lost --- there’s no going home
The trees they claw at my clothes
When will the nightmare stop?
Nobody knows…
When the aromatic garden of celestial spheres, splatters acrylic herbs,
I listen to soft serenades of sakura raindrops,
floating along singing sapphires, longing to reach the unseen colors, veiling cherry-blossom skies.
I ponder, if I could catch drizzling silhouettes of dancing diamonds,
would I then find petrichor tales of forsaken twilight?
Perhaps, in their liquified state, metaphors do flow,
as I am the aesthetic aura of the champagne sun before raspberry rain,
chasing butterflies and kaleidoscopic moonstones,
rising from the pit of poisoned puddles,
where petals of pretense play h i d e and s e e k, luring me into a delicate destruction.
Now I swim amidst surging sorrows, finding jade stars~ hidden between tarnished turquoise, allowing trickling jewels of the azure lagoon, to anchor my sunken spirit to an island of unfaltering faith.
There, I’ll see beyond blurred blues, the caramelized eyes of a poetic knight, writing sensual sestinas to soothe my sleepless seas, rippling with rhinestone regrets upon rain-soaked shores.
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.
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..."