It’s her fault by John Steffen Because of the moon Wife and I got in a fight when I dragged her outside to see the light tonight Because of the moon The light of night is not her interest, she said And I am just a fool, by her insistence and spite Because of the […]
Moon Poem
The Blues by Amit Parmessur
The Blues by Amit Parmessur Around blue, white oceans, in a blue and black house dwells a black speck. So black, so blue black alive, emotionally blue. Sometimes like a fresh road, after the rain, spellbinding every periwinkle and sometimes imitating a baffled bluebird he has had the blues so, so often that he […]
She by Camryn Barganier
Ice cream is for grown ups
And love is for lesbians.
She was ice cream
Warmed by the forgotten time of deep kisses
The flavor of the week
Things we know by Dave Margoshes
Everybody knows the man in the moon
is blue cheese, that dogs keep the sun at bay
in winter, that fireflies are the souls
of the dearly departed, flickering through
Child Among Metal Sculptures by DWE Scott
Child Among Metal Sculptures by DWE Scott Roll the metal sculptures out; Shake out their gnarled limbs; Loosen their terrible torsos; Let the air be filled with horrible clankings; Let it grow rank with sulphur smells And be splattered with blue bruises and yellow flames. True they scare the children, But the tortured faces are […]
Poem Found in a Wood by Ian Dudley
Poem Found in a Wood by Ian Dudley the low sun turns puddles into sheets of sky indigo where the moon gathers its white and the custard and blood leaves of a cherry tree dying remember light a pheasant puts its sore throat to a trumpet a white-tipped propeller whirls into the trees cachinnating like […]
The Poet and the Lily by A. B. S. Tennyson
The Poet and the Lily by A. B. S. Tennyson A poet was born in a modern time, ‘Neath Saturn and his Rings, He was a child of the world’s prime, Knew all beautiful things. He was a child of morning and mirth, Laughing for joy of the sun, His nostrils drank the scent of […]
The Dream by Edna St. Vincent Millay
The Dream by Edna St. Vincent Millay Love, if I weep it will not matter, And if you laugh I shall not care; Foolish am I to think about it, But it is good to feel you there. Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking, White and awful the moonlight reached Over the floor, […]
Old Tunes by Sara Teasdale
Old Tunes by Sara Teasdale As the waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose, Float in the garden when no wind blows, Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows; So the old tunes float in my mind, And go from me leaving no trace behind, Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind. […]
The Sleeper by Edgar Allan Poe
The Sleeper by Edgar Allan Poe At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley. The rosemary nods upon the grave; […]
The Letter by Amy Lowell
The Letter by Amy Lowell Little cramped words scrawling all over the paper Like draggled fly’s legs, What can you tell of the flaring moon Through the oak leaves? Or of my uncurtained window and the bare floor Spattered with moonlight? Your silly quirks and twists have nothing in them Of blossoming hawthorns, And this […]
Conversation Galante by T. S. Eliot
Conversation Galante by T. S. Eliot I observe: “Our sentimental friend the moon! Or possibly (fantastic, I confess) It may be Prester John’s balloon Or an old battered lantern hung aloft To light poor travellers to their distress.” She then: “How you digress!” And I then: “Some one frames upon the keys That exquisite nocturne, […]
Drinking Alone in the Moonlight by Li Po
Drinking Alone in the Moonlight by Li Po (or Li Bai) Under the flowering trees, with a bottle of wine, I drink alone, for no friend is near. Raising my cup I call the bright moon, For he, with my shadow, make us three. The moon is no drinker of wine; Listless, my shadow only […]
THE MOON by William H. Davies
According to his own biography, William H. Davies was born in a public-house called Church House at Newport, in the County of Monmouthshire, April 20, 1870, of Welsh parents. He was, until Bernard Shaw “discovered” him, a cattleman, a berry-picker, a panhandler?in short, a vagabond. In a preface to Davies’ second book, The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp (1906)
THE MOON by Sappho
Sappho (~630-570 BC)