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Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Fascination with Light
by Michael R. Burch

Desire glides in on calico wings,
a breath of a moth
seeking a companionable light,

where it hovers, unsure,
sullen, shy or demure,
in the margins of night,

a soft blur.

With a frantic dry rattle
of alien wings,
it rises and thrums one long breathless staccato

and flutters and drifts on in dark aimless flight.

And yet it returns
to the flame, its delight,
as long as it burns.

There's a longer version of "Fascination with Light" that adds the following stanza:

And still it returns on incessant wings—
ruthless grey monarch of the night air.
It flutters and stares
with huge primitive eyes, and it sees
beyond ruinous nights
to all the loveliness inherent there;
and it sings all the hideous despair
of its unworthiness, in a frenzy of wings;
and its desolate womb holds incurled in silk
the husks of dread kings and pale lovers.

Keywords/Tags: desire, passion, lust, moth, flame, light, attraction, wings, flight, night, delight, ecstasy
No one Mar 2020
with a bed of water,

i gently blow clouds into the sea;

they wither in the foam,

as the wind carries away their screams.

i tilt my head back

and let the ocean's wings

carry me to shore.

[let death be a peace, in this world full of chaos]
Nimisha Chauhan Mar 2020
I smell rain
On wings
Of the breeze.
Bibhusita Mar 2020
If shadows dance on the snow,
Let the hedgerow gently glow;
Your wings maybe black and white,
But they will lead you to the light!
ria Mar 2020
I don’t want to pray about you.
Not because God and I are taking a break,
Not because I’m busy,
Not because I can’t close my eyes without blinking away tears.

But because I’m scared.
I admit it,
I’m scared.

I’m scared that God will take you from me,
I’m scared that he’ll smite me for loving you.

I’m scared that God will cast me out of your garden,
I’m scared that the snakes and I are tangled into each other.
(We’re unrecognizable. Who knows where slither starts and fingertips end.)

I’m terrified that God will tell me that you and I aren’t meant to be,
That we are abominations.
That this wasn’t a match made in heaven.

That we are slowly falling,
In love,
Back to earth,
With wings scorched black—

Please.
Don’t ask me to pray,
Or you just might catch me with my eyes wide open whispering sweet nothings to a God I’m fearful of.
The porcelain
wind of the
moon lifts
it’s wings
of mine
to see
the clouds,
deserts and
dreams of
reality as
one, the
endless
stories of
the green
and golden
fields of
painted
starlight,
the breath
of unspoken
songs in the
conversation
of eyes, too
aerial to be
held, as the
rising, gentle
wind through
the leaves,
and the hair
of lovers in
discovery
of forests
touched
with mist,
rising above
the mountains,
falling as the
song of rain,
they are
rain dancers
who see poetry
as all, and all
is water
Emily Mitchell Feb 2020
Stepping out into the world...
How will I express myself?
Am I really strong enough?
No turning back now,  just walk on.
My past behind,  my life ahead.
The pages of destiny, yet to be read.

Courage! Courage!
Now be brave.
Will I fail?  Will I succeed?
Will I follow? Will I lead?
All this and more I ask myself
As I prepare to leave my shelf.

I will not cry!  I will not cry!
There is no try, just do or die.
I'll give my all with no complaints,
With no regrets and no restraints.
Now must I spread my wings and fly...
🕊This is a poem that I wrote in high school for senior night... unfortunately I don't remember what actually happened,  but I think I remember that my poem was chosen,  but they wanted me to change some things about the last bit (I don't think they liked the "do or die" bit X'D)... and they wanted me to read it... I thiiink I declined... because I didn't want to change it and I am pretty sure that I was WAAAAY TO SHY to read a poem that I wrote in front of my whole graduating class... it was enough of an honor for me that they would have picked it... even with conditions...😅... but... I might have read it and blocked the memory... but... I don't think I did... it has been basically 20 years since then.. so my memory is pretty fuzzy...hahaha... after being "re-shelved" a couple of times... the thrill of leaping loses its edge... but I still remember the uncertainty of that first time... now I am pretty happy to rest the ol' wings and perch for a while...🐦👍
This was written in 2001
Rimsha Afreen Feb 2020
Birds drop dead at my feet
I don’t know- if to die myself, or to give them life.

Now I know that heaved wings look like
Grey snows melting into each other

Life vaporizes from the summer sky
As a wounded dove trembles in my lap
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