The moon burns,
spinning like a
UFO
and wondering when
(and why)
it was forsaken.
It yearns for attention -
for the
rumbling
of life
pulsating
like a migraine
to the root
of its very
existence;
It yearns for somebody,
anybody,
to look at its
scornful,
pock-marked face
and then to feel so
alive
that they have to
look again;
It yearns for love like
an adolescent,
and for attention like
a wife,
broken in half at the
hands
of infidelity
and wanting one last
hug
(kiss)
(f**k)
from her husband.
Still it stands,
stoic in its
silence,
and gives away its
watered-down,
generic type of happiness-
the kind that comes
at the end of
a broken life,
lived in the shadows
and forgotten.
You have a certain style of poetry here Chas and... I love it! Your vivid imagery and similies take the mind on a rollercoaster through the moon's emotions, wants, desires, and sadnesses. One small thing, though: If you use an explicit word like that, the correct category for the poem is *Mature* instead of Everyone. I wonder if you used the same picture I did in my poem about the moon??? I'm off to check! Great job here Chas.
I like it. I hope I understand it. I read it and understand you to be talking about the Moon's yearning to have life on it like the earth. If I get it, then there is an aspect that I think would be great in this poem but was omitted. Wouldn't something about the moon's pull on our water, our tides play very nicely into this piece?
You have a certain style of poetry here Chas and... I love it! Your vivid imagery and similies take the mind on a rollercoaster through the moon's emotions, wants, desires, and sadnesses. One small thing, though: If you use an explicit word like that, the correct category for the poem is *Mature* instead of Everyone. I wonder if you used the same picture I did in my poem about the moon??? I'm off to check! Great job here Chas.
Stover-who taught you how to read and write? I'm taking a meche warrior to their house and killing them. Aw Gawd Stover-are you poking the smot? This lady below me has no idea of whats going on, I can see her b***s, what the hell lady, smile at the camera that you're pointing at yourself.
Still it stands,
stoic in its
silence,
and gives away its
watered-down,
generic type of happiness-
i like this , just because of how you decribed it, i see it in a way that i have never looked at it before i like this piece alot it shows a glory and after glow of something so old yet never forgotten. great piece of work.
generic type of happiness-
the kind that comes
at the end of
a broken life,
lived in the shadows
and forgotten.
A great interconnection for a moon and a human whose spirit has been tainted by life; a moon tainted by loneliness.
Your brilliance never ceases to amaze me!
i reallly quite like this peice. im not usually a fan of peoms that dont really rhyme but i like it. i think its the engery it gives that gets the reader going..
..and thanks for your welcome
~Jazlean
There's so much a person can work with about the moon. I liked your take on this. I was left wanting a bit more, which can be good or bad.
In this case, I'd like to see the development carried even further. This poem carries a lot of emotion, and I'm sure that you, as a writer, can fit in even more without it being overdone. It's fine left alone, but I believe that everything is a work in progress, and with a little more TLC, this could become one of your finest.
Keep up the creativity. And thanks for your loyal reviews on my pieces. I really admire your style, and your critiques are always welcome.