Long New moon Poems
Long New moon Poems. Below are the most popular long New moon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long New moon poems by poem length and keyword.
Julian and Joan were married, just as glitter is joined to crystal sun.
Julian was a famous violinist, like redbirds making music, in season.
Joan had a variety of elegant shoes. Of them, she was rightly proud.
Like seagulls of lakes and sky, whom liberty makes scream out loud!
The Halls were very busy people, like smoky shadows, ever moving;
And mornings were most hectic, like windblown petals, disapproving.
Flowering ferns graced their country house, when old friends came;
For a face-to-face is much finer, than wondering what love became.
Farmers went to frolicsome fairs, when firecracker family popped in;
Like fad future in a fascinator, carrying memories of way back when.
The Halls lived in the house of colors, like the kaleidoscope, spinning.
Days were entranced by hues and beauty, like a rainbow reminiscing.
Sabotaged shasta daisies bowed, while gilded, silver raindrops jingled,
On the street of jade, turning seasons, of red Mars and stars, mingled.
Neighbors noted navy blue skies, when a nuanced sun, sank in rubies;
While they'd enjoy a nightly snack, or watch the never-ending movie.
'Skeleton glass warriors' guarded the greenhouse, of a fragrant June;
As 'Biltmore's ballgown' plants were admired, beneath the new moon.
'Turquoise green cockscomb' plants strutted, in nature's pretty vanity;
And 'rainbow pampas grass' showed after storm, delighting humanity!
One particolored, exceptionally hectic sunrise, the Halls were in a tizzy.
Joan had lost a favorite shoe, and Julian's bow was missing. Such a pity!
They couldn't find the items! Julian left for rehearsals, very frustrated.
Joan left for her boutique. Yet, gold sun'd soon return, when motivated.
After they both had gone, the first butterscotch rays, indeed, appeared;
And their talking rooster had much to say, like hues, after mist cleared!
'Cock a doodle doo!
My dame has lost her shoe,
My master lost his fiddling stick;
And doesn't know what to do
And doesn't know what to do.'
new silence brewing
cold sun is perfect
the way i feel
the way i deal
my loner's mentality resurfaces
kitchen sink full of dishes
all tv dinners freezer burnt
dust in every corner
dust on every morsel of wood
body shaking from hunger and early malnutrition
pillow smelling musty from the night sweats
body smelling pungent from a depression unseen and well hidden
the way i feel
the way i deal
zero is the main ideal effect of it all
i wake up looking down
i go in to completely stop
i skip pebbles on the water while acting stoney
my feel are heavily glues to the ground and yet i am flying
where i land is where my spot will be marked unmarked
i am social as an outlet to my every fear
the new moon changes your mood, and you have a listening ear
i express all i can before the shield takes back its control
if i had the chance to choose how to die right now, then it would be with my hand on your heart and your heart in my hands
When night casts shadows on the ground
The robin, distant, croons
Avian tones, enthralled by dreams
While stars glaze like festoons.
Ringlets of clouds, like puffs on flight
The silhouette of trees,
Nocturnal sighs and murmurings
Are caught up in the breeze.
Then, the new moon appears above
Her white face shyly peeps,
Light breaks so softly, glows the wings
As nest of duskfall sleeps.
Yet birdland rustles through the leaves
Jays trill on bush and thorn;
Where cardinal's imprints pass
Across the dappled lawn.
Soon these plumed wonders of the dark
Close down for daytime's rest,
To gather strength for next eve's rites
Unfolding at their best.
For The Birds Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
11/2/2015
Assaulted Peanuts
They rode across the Western Hills,
For the land of Middle Eyed Bong,
To raid the Salted Peanut Trees,
Of King Pod and his merry throng.
Who were they, this reckless band,
Dare to plunder with motley crew.
They knew not what their fate would be,
Angering the wrath, of Old Cashew.
Cashew is Sentinel of this land,
Most powerful Nut to crack.
Born and raised in the Pecan Mines,
Eyes of Steel and Walnut Black.
Renegade leader of this Gang,
Was Outlawed Percival Grimface,
Once a native of Middle Eye,
Until his assaulted Peanut disgrace.
Pod and Cashew received a snitch,
Of Percival’s imminent raid
and so, prepared their men elite,
The Special Peanut Brittle brigade.
Grimface had an informant,
A betrayer amongst his ranks,
Passed the word to King Pod’s Men,
Who were grateful and offered thanks.
The Brittle Brigade were fighting men,
No one could take them down,
May contain some traces of Nut,
Emblazoned above the Town.
The attack was planned for Midnight,
On the Thirty-Third of July.
A new Moon was clearly visible,
Under a cloudy dark blue sky.
On the edge of town, they did dismount,
To make ready for their swag,
In expectation of stealing Salties
and Take-away in a plastic bag.
The Peanut Trees were just to hand,
When Cashew shouted, GO MEN GO.
Percival walked into an ambush,
He was struck underneath, down below.
No match for King Pod’s Brittle Men,
Who had muscle and sling shot bricks.
Grimface and his Gang, outwitted,
Only Conkers and pointy sticks.
They never saw it coming,
No protection from Peanut shells,
Hastily retreating under fire,
Their pain and ear-piercing yells.
Those Renegades had been dispatched
Back from whence they came,
Never to return to Middle Eyed Bong,
In fear; of getting more, of the same.
If there’s a moral to this story,
Of which I seriously doubt,
Buy your own Salted Peanuts,
Else your villainy will find you out
Haibun
Inky dark night. Jewels in the heavens sparkle like diamonds in a necklace. The Seven Sisters wink seductively while trying to sit in Cassiopeia’s Chair. Orion chases Ursa Major and her cub when he stops to slake his thirst from the Big Dipper. Great Leo butts’ heads with mighty Aries. Sirius, the Dog Star, is the glowing eye of Canis Major as she helps Orion track Ursa. Faint Polaris guides mariners to home port from the tail of The Little Dipper.
new moon
a black palette rules the sky
stars come out to play
The distant galaxies show off their faint light as clustered pinpoints as if the black curtain were pricked multiple times by a needle. Sagittarius points the way to the center of the Milky Way. Nurseries of star forming clusters birth new babies to populate the sky as old ones blow up and die. In the middle lie the monstrous supermassive black holes which suck all light in to their mighty maws bending time and gravity to their will.
are they our ancient home
signals from a distant past
will we return to them
Just mooning
and buffooning
Covertly stepping behind the veil
Dancing and prancing under the new moon
Burning candles and chanting, leaving no trail
Dark, unscrupulous wishes coming soon
Now, laughing and frolicking under the full moon
When you should be wishing upon a star
Daytime you appear as an angel but when night falls, you're a goon
My, what a selfish, controlling parasite you are
Like a fisherman at his favorite pond
You insidiously cast your rod of malevolence into the night
Reeling in an unwitting victim's essence just for kicks and fun
The poor soul didn't even know he was in a fight
But this is no fun and games
The stark thirst for manipulation and control can be tragic
The Universe is watching and recording faces and names
Karma is the return to sender of black magic
As the bride cries before the wedding so much,
the groom many years later, as such.
Better asking twice before loosing at once,
male river water feeding ocean female eloquence.
That sea of motions influences the river,
spawning spores and the flow to deliver.
The pleasing role to submit by natures order,
to keep motions of water in needed boarder.
Delta downstream where the sweet meets the salty bitter,
male and female twilight dance and glitter.
Tides of menstruation circles turning to heat,
forces of spirit matter and its sublimity beat.
Adams rip taken to draw the new moon,
creation that flows through the female cocoon.
The silver cup with little golden eggs,
weaving heavens scent into gentle heads.
Natures diplomatic respected fire,
kindled by admiration from mountain higher.
To discover the heart is the greatest initiation,
life is time and death is its dividing appreciation.
One mystic blue night in June
I will steal the silvery full moon,
break it into sharp-edged shards,
and sow them in the backyard
in the shadow of dark clouds at noon.
The dark devils will enter with lust
my anguished heart beating fast,
hit by the moonless night hard,
and make my boiling ancient blood
turn to thick and brown corrosive rust.
The dark brown blood of mine
the night will drink like wine,
losing the shining full moon
it will make a black one on its own,
even more dark than the dungeon.
When the wolves will be tearing
the neck of the stillness freezing,
the chilled air from the sky will alight,
the ominous bark will shred the night,
telling me it’s time for moon plucking
from the shadow of the devils lurking.
At the end of the year on a frosty night
the time will come when in bitter spite
I will turn the harvested new moon
into deadly ball of the firing cannon,
and hit hard those who lure romance
that skillfully wraps with mute trance
the innocent hearts trapped in love.
With the sickle moon’s sharp curve
I will tear open the deceitful throats,
and slash the sweet lips that gloat,
and in an instant cleverly ensnare
naive soft minds, attracted unaware.
One night in the wasteland dark,
where the starved wolves will bark
at the new moon’s harvest time,
and when the stars will be gleaming rhyme
as pure crystals in moonless sky I'll see,
the lurking imbeciles, I will bury
in the shattered moon’s ruins palpable,
for they say I am desperately despicable.
August, 14, 2017.
Contest : Hello Darkness My Old Friend
Sponsor :Anthony Biaanco
She worships her western horizon
toward rippling river, sparkling, hinting of lightning pasts and futures.
Leonardo is wrong.
This seems unlikely, perhaps judgmental,
harsh,
even so, his God clearly reconstructed in his well-owned glorious image,
universal God of Creative Majestic Architecture.
But, for her, as she watches bruised red wilt into painfully pale lavender,
over black night's forest line,
cerebrally alone,
sacredly uniting
nature speaks through Gaia's rich-timed EcoLogos Voice,
sometimes in pastel skies and meadows,
sometimes in relentlessly lavish vibrant green,
sometimes Full Moon, New Moon,...
Rain, Wind,
sometimes sublime on her tin roof,
whistling through worn-out window frames.
If God were made in her image,
creation would speak in reasoned fertile seasons of shadow dark, and lightning bright,
synapses of climax, echoing down river valleys
rolling out grand majesty of thundering EcoLogos,
perfect rhythms,
rain beating Earth's enlightening future.
It would have been more revolutionary
and probably therapeutic,
most certainly lovelier, had Leonardo portrayed God as Earth's logos voice
swirling light as foggy surf,
tidal river waters gleaming wide at dusk,
narrower in dawn's first light,
a ribbon flowing light emerging west
reflecting waters greeting eastern sky
dawn revived again
Gaia's morning river emerging histories
translating Sun's architectural
whispered sensual
nightly might.
fly, fly, envious time
until thy race is run out
leaden-stepped feet will not compete
accept defeat just for now
fortuitous surprise has unlocked my mind
fly, envious time
fly, envious time
sleep, sleep, desperate need
smother me, safe from all harm
oblivious friend will know me then
release me when all is calm
if I die before I wake, pray the Lord, my soul to take
fly, envious time
and please don't leave me behind, envious time
I do only improve
with things t'which I am inclined
new moon, both eyes on you
surrender to any virtue of mine
a little worse for wear n' too far gone to care
fly, envious time
and please don't leave me behind, envious time
envious time
_______________
Rightly.