The moon was changing me making me feel something in my heart for the first time in ages. How could something so deadly be beautiful? my hands moonlit and the sky full of poisonous grey. My eyes burned from the gaze of the orb in the sky. Each night I stared at the forbidden moon hoping, wishing, begging for it to tell me its secrets. Finally this night the deadly moon spoke back… For some odd reason I expected a earth shaking groan to find my ears. Instead I heard the songs of sirens and their songs led me further into the poisonous grey. Burning my skin and my heart, but it felt so good to feel. All night I gazed at the moon and it whispered in my ears little lies I hoped to believe. When morning came I realized how vast the pain within me. Though I will always remember how I loved the demons of the moon light.
The moon reflects across her face making delicate shadows. I reach up carefully and brush the hair away from her eyes. staring down at me I see her brilliant shining eyes as bright and as changing as the moon. The wind surrounds us brushes against our skin lightly making us shiver. We press together looking for warmth sending more chills down my spin. Her warm hand interlocks with mine bringing me a sort of relief and i sigh. casting her gaze away from the moon she asks”what?” I shake my head letting my hair toss from side to side. Sending her a cautious smile I add, “you look even more beautiful in the moon light.”
August, a long time ago. There’s a window in the bedroom I share with my sister. Somehow or other, I got it. Usually, she got everything she wanted but somehow she missed out on the window. On this August night, I lay in the bed, looking up into the trees where the moon was sitting, shining. Happy. All I could think about was where he was tonight. With his new wife, not looking at the moon but making love in a dark or maybe moonlit room. It seemed to me that it was the fullest, roundest, brightest moon I had ever seen. A special gift for their wedding night. A nasty remark to me. Keep out of it, you have nothing to say about it. If he’d wanted you, he would’ve married you. Instead, he invited you to the wedding, which you were stupid enough to go to because, and here is the most pathetic part of it all, it gave you a chance to see him, even if it was only for a few minutes getting married to someone else. Are you ever as pathetic as you are when you’re 15 years old watching someone who should’ve married you get married to someone else? Can you get more pathetic than that? Yeah. You can be 40 years older, still remembering that night and knowing for sure that he hasn’t thought about it once since.
rubyluby
The sidewalk was empty and only visible by the light of the moon. A note had been left on the rusty bench. The note of one lost to this world. “No one will miss me.”
Kisa
Moonlit tree in the forest was very big.
Simon Woodard
Moonlit face, in a dark place, not smiling, just grinning, stupidly. A grimace, more like…a moonlit grimace.
Bozzka
A moonlight casting across his face. He’s perfect. I don’t know why but I see him that way. To me he is always moonlit. Its crazy. And he’s not even the one I go to sleep with every night. But that guy isn’t the one I think of. Its this other one. I want him. I dream of him. I need him.
Toni
The beams hit my face in the wrong way. I could see how it would be beautiful for some but me. I’m ugly. The way I carry myself, what I do, what I believe in. It’s all too much. I don’t have anyone to tell me otherwise. Maybe its better that way. To be honest and ugly, than a beautiful liar.
M
here’s to scargazing,
to looking into each other’s
craters and kissing every
darkened corner.
here’s to humanity,
and the life vests we make
our arms to those struggling
to stay afloat;
carry me, pacific blue.
remind me why people
are treasures I want
to cherish, and fit man
gently
into a box I can understand.
illuminate purpose
in the pasts we splint
and bandage on eclipses,
ellipses hanging between
us like stars.
constellate us into brothers,
sisters, kindred;
I’m tired of singing the hallelujah
of “how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya”
the night was young, as 7 year Alisha sat on the roof the the apartment building her family had been staying in since her home burned down 3 weeks ago. she was reading her favorite as she sat. she looked up and saw the moon. It was the only lighting that she seemed to need. it lit up everything. she stared in aw as moon rose above the mountains. Alisha then saw a bright blue shooting star and made a wish… ” I wish that the world was this moonlit every night till my life ends.”.
It was a beautiful night in London. Kathrine walked out onto balcony and looked to the sky as she leaned on the balcony and looked at the moon and how the clouds where lit up all around.
Emily
I saw it. it was a human, for a minute that is, it was looking at the moon, then it howled a harsh language and then turned into a werwolf!
Noah
the moon was the only thing that lit the campsite it shone on her skin and in her eyes and the sight took his breath away oh god how did he deserve her he didnt.
nevan
I sat outside on the side walk all my by myself listening to music and gazed at how beautifully the moon was lit, all of outside dark but mellow, the air still. My breathing at a steady pace.
yasmen
The moon is lit. It is moonlit. No honestly I don’t know what this word mean, I’ll check it out later. I think it’s in the song kiss me by sixpence none the richer though. kk bye.
The sky over the valley was dark that night. No stars shone from its blackness, but the moonlit the trees over head and the rocky path was clear. In the valley where the sky was dark.
straight from long beach,
were hear to reach, the only moonlit skies,
dogmatic in their lightttt,
I still never, loooosee sight, of the beachhh,
luminous days always stride when I take a rideee through
the city in which I was first moonlit.
moonlit, there was my star, hiding behind the dark galaxies
cruel intentions painted by black nothingness
the star lit gingerly
yet softly
I had to divest my eyes from the sight for a moment
because everytime I saw the opening
I sky-walked towards it, knowing that there is light through lucid logic and understanding.
after allowing the moon lit night to overtake me, I screeched my nails into the dirt under
neath my picnic blanket
and made it, a ransom, yet hansom, pleasure
to become a measure
of my own endeavor!
i don’t think the moon knows that it is the moon
why would it?
it shouldn’t have to.
there’s a theory i’ve just thought of:
everything affected my the moon
is actually a tide, and every single time
i’ve seen your eyes under the moonlit sky,
you’ve actually just been an ocean,
stirring itself at just the right times
The street is lit only by the moon.
How cliche, really, but what can I do? I can’t make a streetlight appear. And how much better is that really? A lone person standing under a streetlight? Even worse.
So I walk down a street lit only by the moon.
My thoughts my lone companion.
Cliche.
He rampaged through the moonlit forest, wreaking havoc upon everything that crossed his path. He was brimming with mixed emotions – fury, profound sadness, guilt, morbid fear. When he finally reached the glades where the moon shone with its full brilliance, he stood tall with his head held high and let out a bloodcurdling howl.
sitting on the beach and seeing the water. Walking with Jessica. NOLs. it was so bright that you could read a book by moonlight. Seneca lake. outdoors. Being in the moment. Crisp and clean, clear and cool
David Lunken
Bright, beautiful lights up the sky. Makes you believe in all things. Beauty that is taken for granite. Hopeful and expecting. The moon changes and so can we.
DJ Lamdin
The moon lit illuminated her face as I slowly caressed her cheek. Showing her to gentleness and care she deserved. The moonlit field all around us reminded me of home. The subdued green of the grass held many memories and which now held another. I leaned down as she leaned up and as her lips touched mine I knew I was far too gone.
Rida
The light cut coldly into the living room. She rocked gently in the chair, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The sound of the rockers were the only noise through the whole house. She waited. She waited. She waited. The moon was insistently loud, demanding a response.
they see the circle of silk and call it a stone,
they see the silver gilding the trees and call it a reflection.
this is the lantern that the parents never see
for they have forgotten how to
look up.
The water was moonlit with both the small disk in the sky and the smaller, tiny diamonds that surrounded it, spread out in no perfect order. She walked under them, and somehow, their presence made her not feel so alone. Though their surfaces were cold and bleak, it was their presence, them being the only faces that she could see, that made her feel somewhat comforted.
In the moonlit hidey hole
covert little smiley soul
Buried under shame and rubble
twisting bramble, stains, and stubble
In the dark he digs and tunnels
towards the light with self and shovel
As I climbed down from my window, I was greeted by the midnight chill of early June. I planted my feet on the dewy grass and earth and paused, listening for dogs barking or my family stirring from inside the house. It was quiet, as if the whole atmosphere was holding its breath in anticipation. I released my lungs with the sudden wind and bolted toward the moonlit street. Looking up at a clear sky I smiled. I always loved nights like this, with the weather just right and the moon so bright it cast gentle shadows around me.
Moonlit flowers really added to the gloom in the room, which seemed to be treating everyone very well.
Zoe
it’s haunting. the light shines even though the moon cannot produce its own. it depends so much on the sun for its beauty and eeriness; can the moon really be called a wonder if it only reflects others?
Walking down the road she saw her reflection on the sidewalk. It had rained the night before so the ground was covered in a wet sheer that glisten with the light of the moon. She smiled at herself, readjusted her haedphones and kept walking.
Adriana
a moonlit misfit sitting underneath the stars
dont know where you are
bugs buzz blindly bumbling by
you think you can fly
the night sky calls
your body falls
in the dull light of the moon
on a warm night in june
The moonlit waves created a romantic mood, she decided. The moon itself, near the horizon, created a long trail which she could imagine as a road. A few more lines of code and the scene was entered into the VR app. She could imagine people communing together while linked together in this scene, as she looked out the window – she could only see the orange oily haze which obscured the building across the street. She returned to her work, her fantasy.
Times have been rough
memories of sunny days
seem too far away
even in my dreams
rarely moonlit things are seen
a fallen tear gleams
in air this drop floats
perhaps it rests on a hope
there’s hypnotic sway
I reach and know pain,
the cold feel of lurid links
my confining chains
But I’ll continue
with a new fire kindled
’til darkness dwindles
! Haiku-maN !
I love the moon. It’s beautiful and symbolic. I wish I still practiced Wicca. One day I’ll get back into it. I should check out that group. I just don’t want them to end up being a bunch of crazy weirdos especially since a colleague is in it. I wish I was outside staring at the moon on a mountain in a forest.
Her moonlit heart
nebulous glow of a midnight dream
Dancing with the wishes on the stars
Whispering hope of romance to the lovelorn
Yet the darkness of her soul she hides
Behind her back the pain resides
A mystery undiscovered for
She will only ever show her face
poetwarrior
I rowed my tiny boat across the canal, where the moonlit cathedral rose like a white marble palace, its spires threatening to pierce the fragile black eggshell sky above. As my oars slapped the water, I could also hear an organ playing, faintly, as if from the catacombs. People were singing in Latin. The great new spiritual uprising had begun.
Belinda Roddie
It was a quiet moonlit night.
Adam recalls the days when he was in paradise.
Only he, the lady and the maker.
“The nights were never this long”, he thought to himself.
The moon was changing me making me feel something in my heart for the first time in ages. How could something so deadly be beautiful? my hands moonlit and the sky full of poisonous grey. My eyes burned from the gaze of the orb in the sky. Each night I stared at the forbidden moon hoping, wishing, begging for it to tell me its secrets. Finally this night the deadly moon spoke back… For some odd reason I expected a earth shaking groan to find my ears. Instead I heard the songs of sirens and their songs led me further into the poisonous grey. Burning my skin and my heart, but it felt so good to feel. All night I gazed at the moon and it whispered in my ears little lies I hoped to believe. When morning came I realized how vast the pain within me. Though I will always remember how I loved the demons of the moon light.
The moon reflects across her face making delicate shadows. I reach up carefully and brush the hair away from her eyes. staring down at me I see her brilliant shining eyes as bright and as changing as the moon. The wind surrounds us brushes against our skin lightly making us shiver. We press together looking for warmth sending more chills down my spin. Her warm hand interlocks with mine bringing me a sort of relief and i sigh. casting her gaze away from the moon she asks”what?” I shake my head letting my hair toss from side to side. Sending her a cautious smile I add, “you look even more beautiful in the moon light.”
August, a long time ago. There’s a window in the bedroom I share with my sister. Somehow or other, I got it. Usually, she got everything she wanted but somehow she missed out on the window. On this August night, I lay in the bed, looking up into the trees where the moon was sitting, shining. Happy. All I could think about was where he was tonight. With his new wife, not looking at the moon but making love in a dark or maybe moonlit room. It seemed to me that it was the fullest, roundest, brightest moon I had ever seen. A special gift for their wedding night. A nasty remark to me. Keep out of it, you have nothing to say about it. If he’d wanted you, he would’ve married you. Instead, he invited you to the wedding, which you were stupid enough to go to because, and here is the most pathetic part of it all, it gave you a chance to see him, even if it was only for a few minutes getting married to someone else. Are you ever as pathetic as you are when you’re 15 years old watching someone who should’ve married you get married to someone else? Can you get more pathetic than that? Yeah. You can be 40 years older, still remembering that night and knowing for sure that he hasn’t thought about it once since.
The sidewalk was empty and only visible by the light of the moon. A note had been left on the rusty bench. The note of one lost to this world. “No one will miss me.”
Moonlit tree in the forest was very big.
Moonlit face, in a dark place, not smiling, just grinning, stupidly. A grimace, more like…a moonlit grimace.
A moonlight casting across his face. He’s perfect. I don’t know why but I see him that way. To me he is always moonlit. Its crazy. And he’s not even the one I go to sleep with every night. But that guy isn’t the one I think of. Its this other one. I want him. I dream of him. I need him.
The beams hit my face in the wrong way. I could see how it would be beautiful for some but me. I’m ugly. The way I carry myself, what I do, what I believe in. It’s all too much. I don’t have anyone to tell me otherwise. Maybe its better that way. To be honest and ugly, than a beautiful liar.
here’s to scargazing,
to looking into each other’s
craters and kissing every
darkened corner.
here’s to humanity,
and the life vests we make
our arms to those struggling
to stay afloat;
carry me, pacific blue.
remind me why people
are treasures I want
to cherish, and fit man
gently
into a box I can understand.
illuminate purpose
in the pasts we splint
and bandage on eclipses,
ellipses hanging between
us like stars.
constellate us into brothers,
sisters, kindred;
I’m tired of singing the hallelujah
of “how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya”
the night was young, as 7 year Alisha sat on the roof the the apartment building her family had been staying in since her home burned down 3 weeks ago. she was reading her favorite as she sat. she looked up and saw the moon. It was the only lighting that she seemed to need. it lit up everything. she stared in aw as moon rose above the mountains. Alisha then saw a bright blue shooting star and made a wish… ” I wish that the world was this moonlit every night till my life ends.”.
It was a beautiful night in London. Kathrine walked out onto balcony and looked to the sky as she leaned on the balcony and looked at the moon and how the clouds where lit up all around.
I saw it. it was a human, for a minute that is, it was looking at the moon, then it howled a harsh language and then turned into a werwolf!
the moon was the only thing that lit the campsite it shone on her skin and in her eyes and the sight took his breath away oh god how did he deserve her he didnt.
I sat outside on the side walk all my by myself listening to music and gazed at how beautifully the moon was lit, all of outside dark but mellow, the air still. My breathing at a steady pace.
The moon is lit. It is moonlit. No honestly I don’t know what this word mean, I’ll check it out later. I think it’s in the song kiss me by sixpence none the richer though. kk bye.
The sky over the valley was dark that night. No stars shone from its blackness, but the moonlit the trees over head and the rocky path was clear. In the valley where the sky was dark.
straight from long beach,
were hear to reach, the only moonlit skies,
dogmatic in their lightttt,
I still never, loooosee sight, of the beachhh,
luminous days always stride when I take a rideee through
the city in which I was first moonlit.
moonlit, there was my star, hiding behind the dark galaxies
cruel intentions painted by black nothingness
the star lit gingerly
yet softly
I had to divest my eyes from the sight for a moment
because everytime I saw the opening
I sky-walked towards it, knowing that there is light through lucid logic and understanding.
after allowing the moon lit night to overtake me, I screeched my nails into the dirt under
neath my picnic blanket
and made it, a ransom, yet hansom, pleasure
to become a measure
of my own endeavor!
i don’t think the moon knows that it is the moon
why would it?
it shouldn’t have to.
there’s a theory i’ve just thought of:
everything affected my the moon
is actually a tide, and every single time
i’ve seen your eyes under the moonlit sky,
you’ve actually just been an ocean,
stirring itself at just the right times
The street is lit only by the moon.
How cliche, really, but what can I do? I can’t make a streetlight appear. And how much better is that really? A lone person standing under a streetlight? Even worse.
So I walk down a street lit only by the moon.
My thoughts my lone companion.
Cliche.
He rampaged through the moonlit forest, wreaking havoc upon everything that crossed his path. He was brimming with mixed emotions – fury, profound sadness, guilt, morbid fear. When he finally reached the glades where the moon shone with its full brilliance, he stood tall with his head held high and let out a bloodcurdling howl.
sitting on the beach and seeing the water. Walking with Jessica. NOLs. it was so bright that you could read a book by moonlight. Seneca lake. outdoors. Being in the moment. Crisp and clean, clear and cool
Bright, beautiful lights up the sky. Makes you believe in all things. Beauty that is taken for granite. Hopeful and expecting. The moon changes and so can we.
The moon lit illuminated her face as I slowly caressed her cheek. Showing her to gentleness and care she deserved. The moonlit field all around us reminded me of home. The subdued green of the grass held many memories and which now held another. I leaned down as she leaned up and as her lips touched mine I knew I was far too gone.
The light cut coldly into the living room. She rocked gently in the chair, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The sound of the rockers were the only noise through the whole house. She waited. She waited. She waited. The moon was insistently loud, demanding a response.
they see the circle of silk and call it a stone,
they see the silver gilding the trees and call it a reflection.
this is the lantern that the parents never see
for they have forgotten how to
look up.
The water was moonlit with both the small disk in the sky and the smaller, tiny diamonds that surrounded it, spread out in no perfect order. She walked under them, and somehow, their presence made her not feel so alone. Though their surfaces were cold and bleak, it was their presence, them being the only faces that she could see, that made her feel somewhat comforted.
In the moonlit hidey hole
covert little smiley soul
Buried under shame and rubble
twisting bramble, stains, and stubble
In the dark he digs and tunnels
towards the light with self and shovel
I have never seen such beauty like a moonlit ocean in summer night. The vastness frightens me, but I am unable to look away.
As I climbed down from my window, I was greeted by the midnight chill of early June. I planted my feet on the dewy grass and earth and paused, listening for dogs barking or my family stirring from inside the house. It was quiet, as if the whole atmosphere was holding its breath in anticipation. I released my lungs with the sudden wind and bolted toward the moonlit street. Looking up at a clear sky I smiled. I always loved nights like this, with the weather just right and the moon so bright it cast gentle shadows around me.
Moonlit flowers really added to the gloom in the room, which seemed to be treating everyone very well.
it’s haunting. the light shines even though the moon cannot produce its own. it depends so much on the sun for its beauty and eeriness; can the moon really be called a wonder if it only reflects others?
Walking down the road she saw her reflection on the sidewalk. It had rained the night before so the ground was covered in a wet sheer that glisten with the light of the moon. She smiled at herself, readjusted her haedphones and kept walking.
a moonlit misfit sitting underneath the stars
dont know where you are
bugs buzz blindly bumbling by
you think you can fly
the night sky calls
your body falls
in the dull light of the moon
on a warm night in june
The moonlit waves created a romantic mood, she decided. The moon itself, near the horizon, created a long trail which she could imagine as a road. A few more lines of code and the scene was entered into the VR app. She could imagine people communing together while linked together in this scene, as she looked out the window – she could only see the orange oily haze which obscured the building across the street. She returned to her work, her fantasy.
Times have been rough
memories of sunny days
seem too far away
even in my dreams
rarely moonlit things are seen
a fallen tear gleams
in air this drop floats
perhaps it rests on a hope
there’s hypnotic sway
I reach and know pain,
the cold feel of lurid links
my confining chains
But I’ll continue
with a new fire kindled
’til darkness dwindles
I love the moon. It’s beautiful and symbolic. I wish I still practiced Wicca. One day I’ll get back into it. I should check out that group. I just don’t want them to end up being a bunch of crazy weirdos especially since a colleague is in it. I wish I was outside staring at the moon on a mountain in a forest.
Her moonlit heart
nebulous glow of a midnight dream
Dancing with the wishes on the stars
Whispering hope of romance to the lovelorn
Yet the darkness of her soul she hides
Behind her back the pain resides
A mystery undiscovered for
She will only ever show her face
I rowed my tiny boat across the canal, where the moonlit cathedral rose like a white marble palace, its spires threatening to pierce the fragile black eggshell sky above. As my oars slapped the water, I could also hear an organ playing, faintly, as if from the catacombs. People were singing in Latin. The great new spiritual uprising had begun.
It was a quiet moonlit night.
Adam recalls the days when he was in paradise.
Only he, the lady and the maker.
“The nights were never this long”, he thought to himself.
He sighs and move on.
Choices.