Last night , I teleported us back to May
When the birds used to sing our song
And I would call out your name like worship
Do you remember how the flowers would bloom from our love
©dark_moon
dark_moon
red pill in the matrix
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dark_moon 25w
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dark_moon 79w
Nyctophilia
I've heard the strange madness growing in your soul
You understand the derangement of my senses
Beloved, you are an oasis in this waste land.
You will always be loved by me
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 97w
Tourist
I was a happy island
Until you decided to sail my seas and awaken a deep curiosity within me
I let you in , thinking you'd cultivate the lands
Thinking you'd fill my seas with pearls
Instead you ran them dry !
Instead you tried to turn me into the city that had cut you off!
You'd constantly compare my Bird of paradise to a cellphone tower
I permitted you to cut down my trees!
I permitted you to tame my seas!
All in the name of forever
All defences cut down. I felt the cold
"Tell me about the city" I commend
You spoke about the city
you spoke with much adoration and yearning
I saw the love in your eyes
I saw all you wanted
I saw all I could never be
The volcanoes which once were my creation thought of nothing but your ending.My soul resembling an inferno. A hurricane deep inside me began to build up. The seas roared with sorrow and anguish . The sands shivered , the skys wept. The sun sank.
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 99w
I fell in love
The red flags were all up
caution tape around you
the sirens loud and clear
All you did was call out my name
The warning signs became blurry with every step you took towards me
glitter around caution tapes
The sirens silenced
Call it temporary insanity if you must
But somewhere in between the stares ,the long talks about the mundane parts of life and about celestial beings,holding of hands ,amongst other things, under the table during literature ,as the teacher explained the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet
I fell in love.
I fell for your eyes first ,then your mind and the rough feel of your hands, finally, I fell in love with your dark soul .
*********
"Thus with a kiss I die..."
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 100w
Bond energy P2
You'd tell me that we werent living according to any theory or law, that we were special. I believed you because every moment spent with you was purely divine, light on light months of infinite possibilities.We began to forget the "self" and became one. There wasn't a moment where you began and I ended. We just were. Forgetting we ,too, are atoms and that one day, Gilbert Newton Lewis’s findings will be the death of our souls.
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 100w
Bond energy
Atoms are said to attract each other through bond energy, the closer they get, the higher the attraction.They then become so close that they begin to repel each other. I personally feel this happens because the atoms lose the "self" and become one, where there isnt a moment one begins and the other ends. foolish atoms thinking they can out run Sir Gilbert Newton Lewis’s findings.
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 101w
By The Meadow
dearly beloved,a new moon is forming,it takes me back to the meadow. Where you and I would talk about celestial beings and atoms.I had my hands in the holes of your sweater.A new moon was forming .We both wished we'd die with the moon and wake up in Callisto,not forgetting an umbrella for the stroms in Jupiter .We'd then explore Saturn and go around the rings as if they were ferris wheels.I remember your smile when I told you how we'd have chocolate flavoured ice cream by the milky way.A new moon is forming,I sit here alone,wishing to die with the moon,and explore the unkown -
dark_moon 101w
Dim The Lights
Take your shoes off before you enter,
for the ground before you is holy
confess your sins lest thou be punished
go down on your knees ,sing my praises.
worship me.
let me rejuvenate you
explore the promised land
allow me to take you out of the physical into the spiritual
make your desires known unto me, for your wish is my command
go down on your knees, sing my praises.
worship me.
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 102w
Pyrotechnic fantasies
gasoline? check
match? check
gunpowder? check
we met in a gallery on 5th avenue
you wore a ripped shirt, black studs and dr.martens
I approached you
it might have been the tough guy front or the way you studied Dalì's "Venus and Sailor" which ever it was , you had my attention
you spoke of the paintings as if they were caged souls wishing to be set free
later that night we set the city on fire
later that year you set my soul on fire
you mentioned how one day we'd get married in the Louvre museum
you prophesied your love to me
a month later I discover you to be a false prophet
The Mona lisa really is lovely. What a pity
Gasoline? check
match? check
gunpowder? check
Paris is on fire.
©dark_moon -
dark_moon 102w
Golden hour
Pastal yellow, violet blue and blush pink paint the sky
The wind whispers sweet nothings to the field
The honey birds sing sweet melodies making
the flowers blush and the bees jealous
The trees telling legends of old to the baby's-breath
The sun worships her melanin
red carnations on your afro
Us , hand in hand, nothing on our minds but pure bliss
words seemed trivial .
©dark_moon
-
The sky questioned
the ocean's greatness,
the ocean answered by holding
all the tears the sky shed.
©symphonygaps_ -
Darling, will you pet
our August memories and Autumn leaves
with a sweet drizzle of snow, this winter?
I promise to make them bloom
into peonies and poems,
every Spring.
©blooming_fossil -
blackartpoetry 113w
I only knew to love you
even when it broke me,
I couldn't stop;
You weren't in my system,
You were my system
& everything in it had your name coded on it
©blackartpoetry -
wordslinger 87w
Wrapped in a satin thin white poem inside the labyrinth of worldly affairs, she is spreading her aura in all possible beautiful ways. She scribbles poetries about stars on a dark night with frozen eyes.
Little words she writes, little she lives. Little by little, her little becomes her vicinity, an abode of her favourite metaphors. She reads long poems so just she can be with herself a little longer and unbuttons her soul to let it fly with every breath she takes in.
She touches those unscented shimmer of clouds between lines and is not ashamed of. The poetic verses of love does not interest her soul much for she believes poetic love that is scribbled on paper does not evaporate to one's eyes but one's heart. And heart does not interests but lives, finds solace in everything it seeks. Her heart gulps cadavers of dead hopes and humanity which she writes on paper each night with sobs and knavish nights.
The death of her hopes cuddles her with white jasmines, stars and moon hold her tears and smiles beneath the silver linings of white clouds and promise her to meet in heaven where you and I both will be beautiful, she and her dead hopes.
-wordslinger
#writernetwork #mirakee @writersnetwork @mirakee©wordslinger
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moon_child01 90w
Isn't it the true love?!
When I see you smiling
I start smiling like an infant;
You stare, I blush.
You pull me close,
I feel our heartbeats
The symphony of love
At night.
It's not passionate,
But with eternal vulnerability
Only between us
Forever.
O my love,
I feel you.
You feel me.
Only staring at each other
All the night with magical
Affection.
In between your
Cosy warm arms,
When your lips come to
Touch mine,
Finally,
My dream breaks.
How can you still go?
Isn't it the true love?
#love #poems #poem #lovepoems #mirakeeMy eyes can feel your soul.
Why don't trust me
To save yourself?
©moon_child01 -
moon_child01 90w
ONLY FOR BROKEN HEARTS
The only thing that makes a balance in your life is finding a true love and holding their palms and staring into their soul through their eyes. The burning passion with emotional vulnerability, the trust in between two souls can lead you towards your greatest life full of achievements.
You'll be happy to hear that you are rare. And according to all, you are the luckiest. Indeed.
Because there are some people with empty pockets, hungry stomachs and most importantly, with broken hearts — odds and obstacles but they are full of amazing imaginations, soulful mindsets, strong determinations and undeniable trust on themselves. May be you are one of them. You wake up from your own, erasing the betrayal past.
And you'll also be happy to hear that you are rare. According to the most, you are supremely blessed.
Because there are many people for whom dreaming itself a dream. Unlike the luckiest and blessed human beings, they forget to dream and stay as victims forever with personal insecurities. They just wish that someone,somewhere will soon make a change. But before the change comes,the whole sand comes down in the hourglass of life.
HAVE YOU ALREADY FELT THAT YOU ARE ONE OF THE 3rd TYPE PEOPLE??
You'll be happy to know that all think that you are the inspiration. Your stories of failure are the moral stories. People learn from your mistakes. You inspire them and can see your dreams through them. And from now... I do believe that you'll start believing in yourself; as you, the Inspiration of All, have been inspired.
Happy World Mental Health Day to all of you...
It's your tale~
@mirakee @mirakeeworld @writersnetworkYou can do It
Just go through it.
©moon_child01 -
ohhhwell 90w
Mi amor
I stared into your bright hazel eyes as I sat in the front row and heard your divine voice that left the audience hypothesized in your world where love is roses and kisses dipped in poerty.
I often fantasize about my final moments on this foreign land and wonder if our fragmented souls will ever be entwined.
Mi amor, if I die young, dress me in satin and lay me on a bed of white roses.
Mi amor , I love you even though I wish this land swallowed every bit of my existence.
Believe me when I say I lived a thousand lives before you and none as divine as the life I share with you.
©ohhhwell -
aesthete_03 90w
Crooked Smile
It is not ours
it is mine.
You gaze at it for hours
like it is a gold mine.
(A Smile Braces Could Never Straighten)oh me, oh my!
the spring sunlight glanced on the window of your eye
my lense looked at you
like there was something worth looking at
the type of look that Romeo would give to Juliet
you look like a beautiful, picturesque sunset over the ocean
and I think you are picture-perfect
tell me, how do I smile like you?
there is something about your smile
it makes someone's heart take a pause
it has a crippled old man standing on ten toes
your smile spreads like a red tint on ripening tomatoes
oh yes! indeed, summer is in the air
and my camera gives you reasons to stare
if I need you to share
a smile with my camera, would you dare?
smiling faces are everywhere
but a crooked smile is very rare
how do you turn a crooked smile into something fair
how do I smile like you?
©aesthete_03 -
Welcome to the modern day society
This is a place for both you and me
This is a place where I will probably...
Die walking back home from the candy store
I'll probably die just a few inches away from your mother's door
I'll probably die because of these cops in blue badges
I'll probably die because of my blaq inevitable patches
I'll probably die because "I can't breathe", strangled by pages
I'll probably die running from a lady in a silk dress, on a mission to create a crime scene
I'll probably die because that is what you do when you are seventeen
©aesthete_03 -
lostthingspoetry 93w
Return
I won't return to you, to that dark loft where the sun shone through your taped up curtains; little dust motes dancing through the air swirled by the closing of the door at the top of the stairs.
I will not return to sit beneath your peach trees at the dying of the summer; your flannel shirts blowing gently in the warm breeze, scaring deer and making me smile.
I will not be coming back to whoosh down the slide and into your small, encouraging arms at 8 years old; Afghanistan took you at 20 and so I cannot return.
Some of you are dead. Some are just gone.
But I feel you with me every time I soak in a claw foot tub, or bite into a peach, juice running down my chin. Anytime I remember building cabins out of Lincoln Logs, I will think of you. And though I will never return to you, I will hold you ever closer in the depths of my fragile, paper heart.
©lostthingspoetry
