Judgement And Curse
A city dies inside me
leaves uncharted
human bite marks.
A stinging match starts
between explicit statements
I move to keep an appointment -
with an angry moon -
who was incontrovertible by
sending the moon rocks at -
climategate. Here goes the
feedback to climbing mountaineers
who will not find any peak -
in the realm of award winning
shoes thrown at the
emperor of empty citadel.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Seven Deadly Sins: Envy
The sun gazed in silence upon the silver moon,
Jealous and angry that the moon shone every night.
In silent envy, she impatiently waits
For the moon to move, and for it to be her turn to emerge.
But eventually,
She ran out of patience.
She demanded of the moon
That she be allowed to come-out.
But the wise moon refused.
“All things must run its course.
If the moon was to be thrown from the sky,
What would become of night? ”
“I would rule the night! ” Declared the sun,
In all her foolishness.
“Then the night and the day would be one.
Then, the world would certainly be a better place! ”
And the moon shook its head in pity
At the sun, so jealous of what the moon had.
“You don’t seem to realize, ” said the moon with a tearful sigh,
“That I am just a reflection of you.”
poem by Katie Jensen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghetto
this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, its own set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregent night, and brokeness, and drugs that bite, this ghetto got its own blood and guns, and a moon with shiny black shoes, and the moon, and the moon, turns to glass.
poem by David Gerardino
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The Evening
With the ghostly shapes of dead heroes
Moon, you fill
The growing silence of the forest,
Sickle-moon—
With the gentle embraces
Of lovers,
And with ghosts of famous ages
All around the crumbling rocks;
The moon shines with such blue light
Upon the city,
Where a decaying generation
Lives, cold and evil—
A dark future prepared
For the pale grandchild.
You shadows swallowed by the moon
Sighing upward in the empty goblet
Of the mountain lake.
poem by Georg Trakl, translated by Robert Bly
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sand On My Shoes
As I sit by the sea
Drink tequila by the shade of a tree
Theres a seniorita sat on my knee
Sprinkling sand all over me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive lost everything that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And the sand thats on the beach
I am happy though my shoes are tattered and torn
Because the sea is so shiney
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Thought I was civilized
Till I saw the sea and I realized
That the city life was just not for me
Left my troubles behind me
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got nothing else that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And thats plenty for me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Sand on my shoes
Ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sorrow Of Love
THE brawling of a sparrow in the eaves,
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky,
And all that famous harmony of leaves,
Had blotted out man's image and his cry.
A girl arose that had red mournful lips
And seemed the greatness of the world in tears,
Doomed like Odysseus and the labouring ships
And proud as Priam murdered with his peers;
Arose, and on the instant clamorous eaves,
A climbing moon upon an empty sky,
And all that lamentation of the leaves,
Could but compose man's image and his cry.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Moon After Day
Moon shed a tear
Moon give me fear
Moon light my way
Moon after day
Moon give me strength
Moon has no length
What I want to say,
Is Moon after day
Moon is full
Moon is dull
Moon light my way
Moon after day
Moon is my life
Moon gave me a knife
Moon slit my wrist
Moon a wonderful bliss
What I want to say
Moon after day!
Lost without a moon
Where has this moon gone?
the moon that used to brighten up
the night sky,
And the moon that used to shine
Brighter than any star,
The moon that used to bring to me
This beautiful light,
For this moon used to lighten up
My heart,
Now that this moon is gone
I must rely on the stars
to bring me light,
This moon left me alone,
alone to suffer and think
empty thoughts,
And now i know that
I am lost,
Oh where has this moon gone?
poem by Oscar Aceves
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The Stars Are
The stars are
Although I do not sing
About them—
The sky and the trees
Are indifferent
To whom they please
The rose is unmoved
By my nose
And the garland in your hair
Although your eyes be lakes, dies
Why sigh for a star
Better bay at the moon
Better bay at the moon . . .
Oh moon, moon, moon
poem by Samuel Menashe
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Glimpse of a Dead Moon
like the stolen moon
it just slipped away in existance
just as her smile
fell away from her face
they told her he was dead
no more lithium
she'll take her death bed
just as the moon dies
but in conflict
her smile, her body wont rise
from a forced crescent moon
to a deaths funeral tune
marching foward to her tomb
no longer the cold empty shell
from the moment he died to her
and her love and smile fell
from her apathetic face
stricken with a sickness named tears
every month the moon dies
but no longer will her body rise
her body is a glimpse of a dead moon
poem by Kathryn Garner
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Moon Is Like You
Moon will my beam cross over?
Moon how too know I am so lonely.
Moon know, why I do sit under you?
Moon You are so bright, I reach up,
into and touch yours is very heavenly.
Moon why do you blink? Moon so pink.
Moon like you, we are to much similar
and have only one way up into moon.
Moon our faces reflect out and within.
Moon they all do, moon when you do.
poem by Is It Poetry
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My Spirit
I have often felt alone and foreign
Within this place or world everyone calls home-
Perhaps a part of me had died many years back- although
My spirit lives on and looks upward towards the sky, past midnight
Perhaps to awaken in some other realm- Alive and unafraid,
I see the stars brightly shining against the midnight sky,
Far away but close to me in a unique way-
The rings of Saturn intrigue me and inside of the world of my dreams,
I have become as a dove, lifting my wings
To fly as I continue my fight to
Find a place in this world, as my spirit attentively watches over me-
It has been said that everyone is born with a spirit inside-
I was born with a mind, confused, frightened and divided- although
I was born with a spirit that is strong, brave and wise-
I lift my wings and fly, following the direction my spirit, as
My spirit is my only hope- My hope to find a life for myself.
Free from the apparition of the nightmares of my past-
Inside of my mind I know that if I follow the direction that
My spirit takes- enlightened by the sun, the moon and the stars-
Perhaps in the fondest of dreams, I will reawaken and fly away from my fears, and
Find a place in this world-After all, the stars, the moon and other planets
Are far away, in another realm, and unreachable.
The beauty of a spirit is that it never dies, and as my friend it will always be there,
Watching over me protecting me from harm as
I awaken in rebirth from the horrors of my past and from a distance in thought
I can still follow the mystical beauty
Of the moon and the stars in the midnight sky above me
And I know now that when clouds cover the sky and darkness prevails-
The sun shall always rise, I have found peace of mind, and my spirit lives on…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Full Moon And Empty Arms
Full moon and empty arms
The moon is there for us to share
But where are you?
A night like this could weave a memory
And every kiss could start a dream for two
Full moon and empty arms
Tonight I'll use the magic moon to wish upon
And next full moon if my one wish comes true
My empty arms will be filled with you.
song performed by by Frank Sinatra from Voice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My glow love...
My glow love...
The moon has entered gently
in my room and surprisingly
does not want to leave anymore
the weight of your absence...
adds even more its importance
Even I am not the one to frighten it
nor to say to the shiny moon just stay...
Waiting means loosing...
and nothing more
Giving space for a moon pause
letting it to drink
an half empty glass
Oh, so idle you are, my moon
I called you just for a twilight
and you are not leaving any soon...
Now me and the moon sleep together
like the shades over the wall
scold each other
but often we agree
for what want to say and
for what we don't...
My time love is conking in my door
Moon has to say goodbye
the moon leaves
the shades cry
Welcome so late
my glow love...
poem by Vasil Marku
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Yes, the moon!
The moon.
Yes!
Yes, the moon!
I like to wander
with the moon.
It's easy with the moon.
Not awkward, you'd
expect it might be awkward.
It's not.
Not with the moon.
The moon is always
gleaming,
and glowing.
Never upset.
The moon, doesn't get hurt,
or sore with me.
It is just there.
Listening.
The moon is a gooood listener.
It sits through all my
moaning, and groaning.
So I don't have to go
moan, and groan,
alone.
The moon is just what I need.
It's what I've got.
The moon,
oh, the moon.
I'd like to think
the moon is just a different part
of me.
poem by Victor Matthews
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On the Wheels We Go (song)
On the wheels we go
Screeching sounds on the bow
Woofers woofers on the move
With the hips ya shake
My love for the kiss
Vintage cover red in bloom
On the wheels we go
O Lala lala laala lalaa
From the city to the wild
Like boys on horses
Like your eyes wide
To the moon to the moon
On the wheels we go
My love is mine
Her lips so sweet
In the sultry afternoon
On the wheels we go
To the moon to the moon
From the stars we bring
Love sweet luck sweet
Honey come ride with me
On my vintage so smooth
On the wheels we go
To the moon to the moon
On the wheels we go
To the moon to the moon
27/5/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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The Super Moon
No moon can ever
Match in size or brightness
The moon that fills me
Sometimes copper coloured
Most times like milk poured into
Large round vessel
No super moon can
Beat that magic-moon that spelt
Two heart as one
The moment slipped
The sea gulped the moon and belched
My heart, its abode
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bipoler Gheeto In The A.m
this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, and i whole new set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregnant night, and brokerness, and drugs that bite, .and the moon, , and the moon turns into glass. this ghetta got its own blood, and guns, and different time zone, and the moon, and the moon turns to glass...this ghetto got its own bed, and a night light that looks like the moon, , , , , and the moon, and the moon turns into glass, , , , , , , , , , , ...
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bipoler Gheeto
this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, and i whole new set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregnant night, and brokerness, and drugs that bite, .and the moon, , and the moon turns into glass. this ghetta got its own blood, and guns, and different time zone, and the moon, and the moon turns to glass...this ghetto got its own bed, and a night light that looks like the moon, , , , , and the moon, and the moon turns into glass, , , , , , , , , , , ...
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bipoler 2
this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, and i whole new set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregnant night, and brokerness, and drugs that bite, .and the moon, , and the moon turns into glass. this ghetta got its own blood, and guns, and different time zone, and the moon, and the moon turns to glass...this ghetto got its own bed, and a night light that looks like the moon, , , , , and the moon, and the moon turns into glass, , , , , , , , , , , ...
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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