The Moon Reaching For Stars

A poem more into imagery than rhymes. My way to relax is to write, and this beautiful piece is of the results of one such endeavour.

The Moon Reaching For Stars

 

Untitled

 

When the moons reaching out stars

Puppets in the black straitjacket of solitary confinement

Shine like tears over sewers and streetlights

When the crescent grin stabs you into submissive oblivion

Only then can you grasp the hand of God

And feel fragile as memory

Heartstings hanging by the threads of telephone poles ventriloquist

Skulls smile on the living nightmares of man

Our wingspans of animosity ever prosperous

The bottomless abyss is a shadow of Valhalla’s Valkyrie in a puddle’s mirror

Candelabra battalions of cavalry watching from the balconies

Evangelion hellspawn, comets to gaze upon the hazel beyond

These people are so shredded by times scalpel

That you can read it in the words of disjointed stars

You can hear it in the background noise of the nightshade crowd

The empty tone of static voices stationary

But we reach out regardless, fallen angels catching onto life

Understanding life, bleeding, life

Alive, the sun sees its reflection in the moon

But all I see is how black and white this world is

The twilight is never gray

The hair on my father’s unshaven face is silver

And when he smiles darkly, I see Death

And I see how bones can be black

And how ravens bleed red harvest moons

Reaching out to the devil, that will pick clean the bones of the scavenger

As he had done the same to them

And they will do the same to us

And eventually

Those manifestos of bodies will crumple like a book in a bonfire

And I will pick clean the rhymes from the rambles

The moon stole from the sun

So why wouldn’t I steal from the cold midnight that fathered daydreams?

You think I wanted to be given something broken?

 

Checkmate

 

I want you to know what it feels like to live and die this way

Betting on the sunrise to come, when I shiver coldshouldered by clouded thoughts

I bury diamonds with spades, and club hearts into war like a wildcard

 Hit the deck with my bare hands until those with chips on their shoulders folded

Playing their cards write withdraws for dealing with the devil and spit on patience

 I wear a mask of skin called a pokerface that I can not wash from the rusted metal of

 My skull forever smiling until it too fades into dust

The luck of the drawbacks that kept me charging forward

 Until I took my chances away from you, gambled my life away, a pretty penny pinched

A fool and his money are soon dearly departed

There are two sides of the same coin, but you can catch me on the flipside

Ahead of everyone chasing my tail

Mint condition, another daybreak, another dollar, until my shadow drops a dime

And you pass the buck throwing your money around

I’ll spend the time sharing with those on the other side of the coin

Even if carrying the cost is taxing, every man has his price

To be on the money, you have to pay the price for room and bill borderlines

On the run for your money maker, put your money where your mouth is

Maybe, just maybe, then you won’t be having to cough it up

Flatlining, the bird has flown the coop

But I have yet to leave the nest

Because I enjoy stepping on the eggshells

It makes me feel like home isn’t still haunted

Author's Note

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Despite what you say about "imagery instead of rhyming" -- the first part is not only full of imagery AND some strong rhyming, but also it's about FEELINGS! Something that often isn't apparent in your writing, but I love when feelings take more of a center stage. As for the second part, I love the extended metaphor regarding "money" . . . so many snappy phrases that you peel off, using this connection to the "root of all evil" . . . it's all in the give-and-take of life! Here's hoping the virus is not tormenting you or anyone in your circle of loved ones! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[wordman]

lot of great quotes in this write,and maybe a lesson to be learned by many