In unison they glide on ice.
Now each adoring move so precise.
The water-filled pitcher is settled in your waist
Walk easy, the road at the early hour is almost empty
River in the poet's eyes is watching your movement
Vocabulary from his heart is making a sketch
_______________________
9 September 2025
Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play
In the streets of the city.
Morning’s far away.
We’ll dance in the streets,
Race under the stars,
Staring into the eyes
Of oncoming cars.
They’ll tell us their wisdom
In archetypical style
Of the roles that we play
And if we survive.
The dogs of the city,
They howl and they fight,
Then fortune they share
For our hungry delight.
When morning comes early
With its fresh silken dreams,
We shake off the dust
Of what we have seen.
We’ll feel the warm sun
Wake our guarded souls,
To feed us again
As we make our way home.
Our lives have been spent
Living other’s requests.
Now is the time
For our own conquests.
The streets of the city
Are daring and sheer.
Come with me now.
Experience no fear.
Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play
In the fields of the village.
Morning’s far away.
Still crisp air holds its breath
In silence as we watch
Moonlit shadows creeping west,
Forever out of reach.
We try to chase the shadows
Running through the trees,
Standing tall like rocket ships
Against the lonely seas.
Come along and run with me,
The fields await our gaze.
There lay mysteries to be seen
Beyond the twilight haze.
We’ll chase our noble destiny
Into the howling storm
And catch those fleeting shadows,
Running with open arms.
We’ve stayed in this tiny village
Longer than we aught.
The world awaits, bold and bright
Even if we’re caught.
It’s time to make our journey
To lands far and wide.
I’d rather face the future
With you by my side.
Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play.
Time to forge our future,
In the streets with me today.
The sorrows we borrow,
the sorrows we keep—
are debts of the dead,
replayed in our sleep.
Blood writes the tally,
blood writes it in red;
tomorrow collects
what yesterday bled.
The sun drags its shadow.
The sun drags its shroud—
darkness advancing
cowering aloud.
Dry eyes at dawn.
Ashes inbred;
a prayer in the dust,
a prayer for the dead.
The sun flares faintly,
a wound in the sky.
The clouds part briefly,
yet cold will not die.
What was served yesterday
lies rotting today;
a banquet of abstinence,
a plate of decay.
Tears must be borrowed.
Tears must be sown;
the covenant is endless,
the debt as ever has grown.
I am summoned.
I am again sworn—
to gather the blood,
to nourish the thorn,
to water dead flowers,
for sorrow's reborn.
Conjugal rights were done by 1971 ~
as reproductive rights saw the light of the sun
I hope he makes you feel at home
hope it’s sweet when he’s singing you songs
I’m sorry I choked chewing on
my own tongue for too long
You’ve moved out
and moved on
Making vacancy space inside my arms
but there’s something I’m still clung on
Vagabond who can’t wander on
or let go of that glimmer of home
I wasn’t living in love
but I was somewhere so close
Does he listen when you’re silent?
Does he watch you as you sleep?
Is it everything we were supposed to have?
I can’t help but feel like the trick’s on me
You said
he makes you feel
like magic.
and I transcended, disappearing from the picture
as I imagined your passion
watched
my love story
col lapse
in
to
trag
edy
in a second
and a half.
With Fond Memories, we'll all say Goodnight.
Goodbye, for now, maybe we'll get a Bite?
The thrill that we "Hoped," we'd see on the Screen,
Was "SO PREDICTABLE" from Scene to Scene!
Every "Horror Flick," is just like the Last!
Same Boring Plot, same Boring Cast!
The "Cinema's," are Over-Refrigerated,
And the "Dialogue," is only Regurgitated!
Half-hour in, you glance at your "Swatch,"
It doesn't Matter which Movie you Watch!
The "Kid" behind you...keeps Kicking! your Seat,
Your Popcorn Box...is Stuck to your Feet!
The Speaker's So Loud, it's Blowing your Mind...
And SOMETHING smells..."Rank,"...Right from Behind!
Pungence, not "Floral," is assaulting your "Beak,"
Your Eyes..."Dart Around...for the "Exit" you Seek!
Yes, it's "Fond" memories, like walking in "Clover,"
We MISS all those movies, watched Over and Over!
Till you "SHINE" the "LIGHT" on those "GEMS" that we SPEAK,
I'll be "DAMNED" if I'M coming "BACK HERE!" next WEEK!!!
I’ve worked in oil fields,
facing danger for good money,
I’ve sailed on the crab boats
where the oceans churn and freeze.
I’ve drove the long-haul truck,
through the ice and much up to my knees,
I’ve dug that black gold coal
so the people have light and head.
I’ve worked the power lines
and been nearly fried, yes, it’s true,
I’m an itinerant,
cannot stop and I don’t want to.
I’ve dug a soldier’s grave,
so in peace they’ll lay restfully.
I’ve laid with lonely wives,
that’s why all your kids look like me.
I’ve been a handyman,
fixing your doorjamb and windows,
I’ve worked the carney scene,
on the rides helped all the kids go.
I’ve cut in the Maine woods,
as a logger should, what a view,
I’m an itinerant,
cannot stop and I don’t want to.
I’ve worked behind the bar,
slinging beers out to tired men,
even been a crossing guard,
so children go home safe again.
I’ve swept up city streets,
to see them filthy the next way,
I’ve worked the onion fields
in the hot sun outside L.A.
I’ve done so many things,
making my money someplace new,
I’m an itinerant,
couldn’t settle and don’t want to.
Two of us on a sixties hippie trip
to see if our gears would slip or mesh
innocent but wary yet wide-eyed
to the Imperial city of Marrakech
she perfumed with patchouli
me I traveled totally tie-dyed
all around was peace and love
we teamed to a tee and seemed
a fit the perfect hand in glove
but not long later it was deemed
as it was commonplace to see
in the medina not strapped for cash
kif from the Rif sellers
in the souk smoking hash
the country lacked law and order
no sooner said than escorted
back to Ceuta across the border
funny now in retrospect but not then
how when we blew out on the Sirocco
tho' we hadn't gone so far as the kasbah or bazaar
were deported without ceremony from Morocco
Dissonance in me awakens
Feelings faint and badly shaken
by hearts - come clean - that are now achin'
no thanks to my prevarications …
Women: Sense a man’s unease
~ Flee from him and his disease
Your love flew wingless with the summer wind,
And left me stranded, hopeless, in a pit.
Alone I became too much for my mind,
With my love jailed by your self-written writ.
I was consumed by the flame of your rage,
Yet from the ashes, I arose anew.
I found a heart whose kindness could assuage,
And clean even a faintest thought of you.
Your cruelty bent me but couldn't break me,
I rode the distance on your stormy wave,
Till real love brave the storm to free me,
And polished my heart, making me feel brave.
Each fibre of my heart now flows with love,
At last, your wickedness has fallen through.
Joy walks with me, hand in hand, hand in glove,
Made whole by love thats's steadfast, strong and true.
2 men i called Grandpa acting like a Dad when a man walked away
Never batting an eye they'd be there for us everyday
One was out spoken and never left something unsaid
Other kept to himself so you find a way for your heart to mend
They always taught something new to me
Since I was just under Three
Just a girl that wanted her dad
Grandpas never let her stay mad
Sneaking extra Banana Popsicles when Grandma was napping
Getting into the sweet stash quietly so they didnt hear the wrapping
Grandpas had the joke and skits they played on us
Those new lighters and staples were always a lil sus
Whether it was one sneaking food off your plate
Or the making you open the pasture gate
Being told to not waste time or tears on a man who does show up
What he meant was brace yourself and keep your feet in the stirrup
People always had the chance to let me down
Grandpa showed me how to move on without a sound
Things they did shaped us into the parents we are
They've got the best seats since they became a star
Pictures there upon the wall, each person once held me dear.
At times we were living together, now not one lives near.
Each has a life they must live and thoughts on which to ponder.
My life goes on, I grow old and still I can’t but wonder,
How different things could have been, if love we didn’t squander.
It’s sad to know the errors I’ve made, the times my choices were wrong,
The love I’ve felt but couldn’t show, for I had waited too long.
The times I couldn’t be where they wanted me to be,
The pain and suffering they couldn’t see,
They didn’t know the authentic me.
I wish them all, love, peace, and joy, in the lives that they are living,
And hope someday they’ll learn to forgive as they have been forgiven.
I hope they’ll know in their heart of hearts and deep within their soul,
How much I love and pray for them, as all of us grow old.
None of us can truly know how other’s lives will unfold.
Specific Types of Moving On Poems
Definition | What is Moving On in Poetry?