Moon Walk
A frosty look when
moon floats in a cup.
I was uneasy.
Rose was rose.
Thorns want to tear it up.
Blood was mine.
After moon it
will be dark. I walk back
to find a candle.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Guardian and BloodRose
BloodRose,
Rose of my love,
My love for Dark moon,
Dark as my heart,
Black as my soul,
And gave me my rose.
The rose of blood,
With petals soft and black,
Never as a rose so beautiful,
Grown not in light,
But under a dark moon lit sky.
Guardian,
Yes a guardian of BloodRose,
With teeth long and sharp,
Claws hard as diamonds,
Scales as dark as night.
My dear sweet guardian,
Guardian black as my heart,
Fire in your eyes,
Shadows in your soul,
A dragon of the dark moon.
A single rose,
With petals so fare,
As dark as my heart,
I now hold in my hand,
The rose of blood.
You are my darkness,
Fear of this love,
This love for you,
Love for darkness,
The cold shadows in my heart
That makes me yearn for you.
Now as you lay dying,
I hold a single rose,
The rose you gave me,
And as I hold it tight,
The thorns slice my hand,
Covered with blood,
My blood.
I have one fear,
The fear of death,
Symbol of my lost love,
Rose as dark as me,
Laying in a pool of blood,
Blood from me.
As I lay dying,
I remember my name,
BloodRose,
I am the rose of blood,
And I died of my own creation.
A creation of perfect beauty,
Petals dark black,
Thorns like small daggers,
Grown from my love,
My love for a dragon,
A dragon as dark as my heart.
Even in my death,
I think of you,
And the rose you gave me,
The rose that killed me,
The Rose of Blood.
poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rose With Thorns
The rose with thorns
Beautiful passion red rose
But dangerous with thorns
Picked off the garden
By a bard on
Realize he was bleeding
Thought roughly about his feelings
About why the rose had thorns
Never again would he pick up the red rose with thorns
The rose only brought him pain
Thoe he did not go insane
By wanting to stomp on it
But he just forfeit on it
He just let the rose there on the ground
And the rose was hoping it would be found
So the bard on
Left the garden
Checked his finger with the thorn pulled it out
finger was bleeding and never looked back at the rose with the thorns
poem by Jose antonio Torres galeana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose from my Love
Rose from my love,
My love the black dragon,
With teeth like daggers,
Claws of steel,
Scales of darkness,
And a soul of fire.
Do not raid the village,
Do not steal the maiden,
Just guard the rose,
My rose,
The rose of the dark moon.
Under the cloudy sky,
Surrounded by trees dead and charred,
Looking out at the frozen lake,
Remember me,
And wait for my return.
My sweet dragon,
Dragon of my dreams,
Your soul is dark like me,
Even when that fire goes out,
The rose will remain,
As a memory of our love,
But was that love in vain?
No, not in vain will I die,
I will die in the arms of my love,
My love Mokar,
Protector of my rose,
The rose of the dark moon,
The moon I was born under.
poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Correct?
If the moon and the sun waged a war,
Who would win? The moon, I'm sure.
The sun would fight face to face,
Making sure everything was proper and in its place.
The sun would often stop and double check,
Just to make certain he was politically correct.
While the sun was being fair and safe,
The moon was off in a darkened place.
In the night, the moon slipped around
And hid behind the sun somehow.
The evening ended and the sun awoke.
He rose quickly as the morning broke.
The sun searched but could not find the moon,
And the sun was happy the war had ended so soon.
When the day turned dark and dark turned black,
The moon stabbed the sun in his well-meaning back.
poem by Richard Betts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A rose I am no more
If roses are the colors pink, red, yellow & white,
What happens if my rose is the color of black.
If all roses have their thorns,
What happens if my rose has lost its thorns.
If a rose that has no color & no thorns is no longer a rose,
Then a rose of color & thorns I am no more.
A rose I am no more, A rose I am no more.
poem by Beating Tree
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Could Be The Moon
i could be the moon
where you can be a body and a
shadow
i could be a lake where
the moon may shine
and you can still be the body
and the shadow
and the voice
i could be a candle in the dark
where you may put
your hope and you can still be the
body and the shadow
and the scent
i could all be your moon
your lake and your candle
and you can still be the body and the shadow
and you shall walk
under me (if i were the moon)
and around me (if i were the lake)
and you may have the power
to put me off (if i were just a candle
in the dark
where you are the body
and the shadow and the voice
and by the mere sigh
of your whimper
i may die
so i still prefer to be your moon
or your lake so i can be your full light
so i can be your mirror
larger than your body
not helpless to your shadow
in silence, i still like to be myself
not a slave, not someone whom you can just
give away as easily as a flicker of a candle
as fickle as you are
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our Moon
July 1989
Alone I watched the Full Moon rise tonight.
The same Moon rose over you just hours ago.
Did you also watch it rise? Did clouds obscure the view?
Was your night as fine for stargazing?
When the Moon is just starting to clime my horizon
It is finishing its' journey across your sky.
Were you still awake to watch it set?
Did dreams call you away?
Tonight I will watch till this Moon leaves to find you again.
The calendar says each Moon shines on you first.
But the Moon doesn't follow... it leads!
Full Moon... Full Circle
Ruler of tides
My Moon first tonight.
I shall wish it safely back to you.
Last July the Moon carried grief for me.
Was your Moon full of Joy then?
I know it wounds you now.
Once Full Moons of June saw each of us born
Your Moon predating mine in years.
Round Moon... pale circular symbol of eternity
First seen by you... then me... then back again
This Moon connects us, at least in my own heart.
Allow me to wish it back to you fuller, brighter.
The July Moon rises Full over us tonight.
Full... of Promise
poem by Mary Havran
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Kissed by a Rose
Kissed by a rose
With all the thorns
My eyes become large
And I can see a glow
I see you
Standing there by your grave
I walk slowly over to it
I kiss the rose
One more time
But my lips are cut
So my blood drips onto the rose
I plant the rose
On top of your grave
It blooms with red roses
Little droplets of blood
Dripping from the leaves
The light that you shine
Can be seen
You walk to the roses
And your light
Hits the blooms just right
I lay down on your grave
My power
My pleasure
My pain
I feel all of it
At the same time
Ive been kissed by a rose
On a grave
poem by Allison Unknown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just One Rose...
that's a homework i need you to tell me if i should hand it to the teacher or not...(:
just one rose, a pretty rose...
just one rose for me with no coze...
just one rose pure and true...
just one rose for me is all i can do...
just one rose somewhere out there...
just one rose for me to care...
just one rose when dark days prevail...
just one rose when people only use petrail...
just one rose and all the time...
just one rosefor me is a crime...
poem by rose of death XxX
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pondering upon the Rose on a Sunday Morning......
The symbol of love
When giving in love a rose speaks for itself
The beauty is picturesque
The scent it gives lasting for ever
The rose never seen without her thorns
Still who can not feel happiness when a rose is seen or given?
Even for a brief minute, a second the rose brings a smile
Or perhaps a small sigh of delight
If one were to think upon a rose…
The thorns… the beauty…
The petals that carry the essence…
That lingers even after it is withered
If one were compare to our Lord…
He held thorns upon his precious head; the head of the rose is above the thorns
His love was known for its beauty and compassion, the rose noted for love
His words and Spirit lingers for eternity much like the scent of the rose
My Lord created the Rose
Perhaps he created it for remembrance of His son
Looking upon the rose I see it all so clearly
The meaning of love
The beauty
An essence that shall always be with me
poem by Patricia Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nature's Rose
As the vast nature
blinds the eye by its beauty
the trees grow taller
the grasses grow greener
The animals grow more peaceful in their natural habitat
But none grow as beautiful as the red rose
As the red rose grows day by day
I walk by it desiring to pick it
Sitting and waiting for the petals to grow more mature
To grow and show off the beauty of the rose
Years go by and the rose is almost grown
This special rose is different from the rest.
Others grow, beautify, and die
While this one grows year after year
The blood of the rose is pure
as it flows up and through the beautiful flower
But the rose has not completed its growth
I run my hand down the body of the beautiful flower
Shedding my blood from the sharp thorns
I grasp the flower and thrust it from the ground
As my blood drips, the blood of the flowers does so too
The red of both mix and mature and fall to the ground dropp after drop
The smell of the flower overtakes the pain
This is Nature's Rose
What A Rose Can Say
A rose can say I love you and want you to be mine,
A rose can say I thank you for being so very kind,
A rose can say congratulations, whatever the occasion may be,
A rose can say I miss you and wish you were here with me,
A rose can say I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way,
A rose can say get well soon, May God bless you today,
A rose can say I wish you happiness, and the best for you each day.
A rose can say farewel when someone goes away,
A rose can say hello, I'm thinking of you today,
There's just so many wonderful things that a rose can say,
A rose can say goodbye when a love one is laid to rest,
No matter what there is to say, a rose can say it best.
poem by Margie Driver
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The Blood Red Rose Reborn
Dedicated to Rosse Nor with love and best wishes.
hate vile poison grey
pour revenge away
bitter is taste of decay
the rose was not born
bud into new bloom,
as a secret ceremonial mask
to hide dark rooted emotions,
it is time for the rose
to slip into new bud,
born of lessons learned,
to life spread in beauty,
petals spread overlapping
in sweet scented symmetry,
leave the past and dark souls,
to impale upon sharp thorns
their own prey flesh piercing,
leave the past and dark souls,
to impale upon discarded thorns
of your freedom spread leaving,
while you spread in new growth,
new bloom new beauty released
the blood red rose renewed reborn,
in moonlight in the dawn red
throughout the day of parched heat
the blood red rose fresh grows
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Somewhere with the grimreaper (new version of somewhere over the rainbow)
Somewhere with the grimreaper
Where thorns thrive!
There's a place I’ve seen
In a nightmare.
Somewhere with the grim reaper
Death shall come,
And the things you dare to do
You really do, do here
Someday I’ll hear a knock
And go to the door and find,
Death
Where dreams melt like candlewax
Way above the rose’s thorns
That’s where I’m lost
Somewhere with the grim reaper
Bluebirds die
Blood flys over the nightmare
Why then, why can’t I die
Someday I’ll hear a knock
And go to the window and see
Death
Where troubles melt like candle wax
Away above the rose’s thorns
That’s where I’m lost
Somewhere with the grim reaper
Bluebirds die.
Blood flys over the nightmare
Why then, oh why can’t I die?
If sorrow fills the world
Beyond this place
Then why can’t I die?
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Rose Destitute Prostitute
Rose has the reddest hair I've seen...
Rose is a prostitute of high repute....
Rose smiles and all your thorns fall off
along with your shoes..............................
Rose and I get along real swell not like
you think....
Rose lives on the streets as well...being as
she is actually she has as many as tree
or four homes a day.
Rose did not show up for her doctors appointment.....
Rose was found in an empty lot with her bush
lopped off.
Rose was destitute when found she was sent off on
what we call the gravy train to every where
rose was cremated under tarp then bailed out.
poem by Cigar Aficionado
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First rose
A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.
A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.
And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.
She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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!
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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Just a rose.
I'm a rose, but a damaged rose. The winds have torn my peddles and my color has faded. I've broken my stem through these uncontrolable storms, But a rose that has been picked and fiddled with. A rose who has learned to grow it's thorns, but a rose without it's bush.A rose that still has yet to say 'I've survived' this grassless dirt spreaded field.I'm a rose, just a damaged faded rose.
poem by Ashley Derenda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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