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Sally A Bayan May 2017
(haikus)

eggs aren't done yet,
deep frying oil sizzles loud,
my eyes meet pale red,

i anxiously taste
Korean strawberries......but,
..........eagerly, i sniff,

home smells of....fried rice,
garlic...coffee...petrichor,
sweet scents...wafting 'round.


   (10w)

youTube plays
Moondance by Van Morrison
shoulders sway...fingers tap.

i glow...while singing
with Don Mclean's
Starry Starry Night.


strangers knock, looking for never-heards,
at six AM?
very extraordinary!

then guards
warn us of strangers,
a bit too late!

clatter of china says,
table's ready...
wait...
rain is pouring!

where're you,
Creedence Clearwater?
have you ever seen the rain?

gosh....the dogs again!
...chased away
both cat and kittens :-(


     (14 lines)

the table...now speaks loudly
of perfect sunny-side-ups
mushroom omelet with sliced sausages
there's toasted bread......fried rice,
and fried plantain bananas, too,
all steaming hot......the aroma
......of arabica........brewing...
the many unexpected moments
that keep popping out of the blue
create a palette of bright colors
and moods for this new day...
i await more of these "unexpecteds,"
this  flow of eclectic poetry
really knocks me off my feet :))


Sally


Copyright April 23, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
(one Sunday morning in April)
Dave Gledhill Jan 2014
I'm troubled by a broken tune,
that can't keep time and loops too soon.
Like Christmas in the heart of June,
each summer's heat a curdled moon. 

It's not that I keep glancing back, 
or wander down well-trodden tracks,
I've raged against a wall of facts,
interrogating every crack. 

Yet still I feel its tender bass
and scrawl each lyric on my face.
I've copied out each line to trace 
the meaning of this groundhog chase. 

No matter which new route I choose,
this labyrinth seems short of clues.
There are no shields or string to use,
just an ageing bard that strums the blues.

And now begins another dance,
the waltz of sighs and askew glance.
It's orchestra tuned up by chance,
with instruments of circumstance.

And so returns the song's refrain.
Its endless echo back again,
to score my steps while I remain, 
a different man, who's still the same.
Her glowing silver hand,
Grasping desperately at

Shreds of brocade silk,
Glittering in the moonlight

Disappearing into the moonlight
i wonder whose hand you envision in your mind...
(@shimatsukki)
Marian Jun 2013
Soft rays of light
Dance tenderly in my room at Night
Casting shadows on the ground
And on the floor of my bedroom
Late at Night the Fairies dance
In those rays
The caressing breeze
Waltz through the treetops
While streetlights like crystals shine
All Night long
Little owls in the trees
Hoot and call to each other
Crickets, katydids and tree toads
Sing late at Night
In the softly stirring breeze

**~Marian~
Don Brenner Oct 2010
The moon doesn't seem so far away
when I lay in midnight grass with you.
I want to reach up, flick it,
and play pinball in the stars,
or better yet put it in my pocket
along with Mars and gift them to you -
intergalactic stress *****.
From above we probably look
like a capital M cut right down the center
in two symmetrical halves.
I wished upon a star
that you would grab my hand
like I know you would
if we took off into space.
If I could take you anywhere
I would take you to Mercury
where we could reach out
and touch sunspots.

But I can't
and you're suspicious of me
because you don't even know me.
Maybe, though, one day
you will wrap your fingers
around my palm
and squeeze ever so lightly
like you would hold a mouse
and ask me my favorite song.
2009
Tanner Angelo Jan 2014
Salmonella sunset
  sets the scene for
moondance morrey
     into the mystic
Fool's ghouls haunt sunken treasure
Sworn protectors of
      the damages
      better undone
      Mandela's dead
Deaf men didn't get the message
"                                           !"
    a sad song it was!
Counting the days
        One a finger
waking up it's the same scene
           the world
That strange place
you Left behind
pigeons in the streets singing
"tomorrow will be like today!"




*and when that foghorn blows
I will be coming home
gs kerr Jul 2011
the moon is dancing
a wolf and a tree
each star is a moment
a truth and belief

this story's not written
the lights are the words
constructing each paragraph
outlined in verse

i open my heart
with fear and for chance
two atoms collide
we share
one slow
hypnotic
waltzing moondance

im told that im heavy
in heart and in tongue
but when my heart opens
it shows truth, not a gun
Katzenberg Nov 2014
if i die young
walled apart of her
when all journeys are over
and my hands are closed

i'd call for the love of loss
and lose everything i held
for i am one soul
residing in this dying case

wether i live or leave
you'll stand on the other shore
looking at me, and be
static as your moondance, witch

your fest is my birthday
„Dreizigte April, mein Schatz"
the cats still pray for me
but who pray for them?
aj Mar 2016
under pearls by the water
trickle down the tears of an angel's
daughter

in the forest deep below
resting her head on an earthy pillow

the animals guard and keep her safe
shine and pray the light away

the moon is her companion
for it she dances
the sun comes over and delightfully prances

in this finest hour
the world is no longer ours

a union of more than two
a trust greater than me and you

the sky cracks open and screams  
the dance is no longer for thee

maybe she was a little too free
perhaps the forest stifled her pleas
freewrite
Sinai Jul 2013
On some days she dances
and sings
it sounds terrible,
but it looks sweet
and careless.
She holds me and calls me
her sister-figure,
and I just follow her
with my eyes and
hold on to the moment
with every muscle that I own.

Some days her eyes remind me
of the last time I saw him.
They're not hers,
and she does things that nobody
understands
and she scares me.

Some days she breaks down
and lies crying
and screaming
next to our feet.
And she lets us touch her
to pick her up,
and for a moment I see her
as she is.

She is a lot of things.
Just as crazy
as unhappy.
You’re exactly like the moon
With all its different phases
The moon that’s tattooed on your forearm
The moon that’s covering your paintings
And just like the moon
You are bold and apparent
With certainly nothing to hide

But although you’re this way
You’re still so far away
To truly understand you up close

So I lie awake sleepless
Because the moon’s made of secrets
As it sits alone in the sky

And now you’re waning and whining
You’re fading, you’re dying
As the sun tries to take over the show

Glowing palely, you shine
As you live for the nightlife
You’re high and you’re faded again

We moondance
We’re kissing
By daytime you’re missing
The light breaks the morning horizon

So by the light of the moon
I’ll see you soon
Living at night because you’re a beautiful sight
But by the time I see light  
I’m just another admirer with drowsy eyes
Hayley Siebert Dec 2016
The Planet hell caught my ear
That of 12 years old
For mezzo nor soprano
A singer of classical genre

The riff and drum were a beautiful trance
Of Ever dream and Moondance
The dead boy's poem wept
The albums forever kept

I sang with you
Your Ghost Love score passed in the night
The wishes on notes
for she, he wrote

I found my path, when all seemed lost
To Mozart, Carmen, Tosca
A hand to the path you lead
Tear ashes upon my bed

I wished for the night
For every song that healed my plight
Years gone by from January to December
My olden day Nightwish I adore and remember
Greenie Aug 2014
lately ive been feeling a bit blue
moondance on my own  ===  just one shadow the light does skew
ive cracked my wrists, and I cant seem to figure,
stare dumbly down, aching to feel what once was vigor
but whats strange this time, is the space between
the humorly disgust for them who did once upon me === preen

guess im on my own now
love you Ari.
rk Jul 2020
if it takes 28 days
for skin to renew,
then i have been
13 new versions of myself
since i last felt your touch.
each day gets longer,
yet i still hear your name
in the ocean waves
and your moon soaked kisses
still keep me up at night.
Stu Harley Sep 2018
once
upon a time
a silkworm
decided to
weave a burgundy red dress
for
a Moondance
Mike Adam Apr 2016
Out of the blackness
milky-white eminence rises
omphalos umbilus of the world
dripping venom and solace
in equal doses

Is not creation myth
of sunrise or moondance
****** charge of being
connection of ether
asserted from nothing

Uncoiled sss thick body
glowing colour grey
black edged scales
vast hood of metallic
green lozenge flanked
by blind yellow flash

Out of blackness the
milky rainbowed cobra
source of destruction
of chaos of growth
Stu Harley Mar 2020
the
wide eyed sleepy moon owl
took
the chance
to
perform
the
sacred ritual
when
the
moondance
Ursula Wolf Sep 2021
Moondance on Your skin,
Your hollow love that I still grab on
Dancing in the water of faith.
Splashing,
Rising,
Fighting against the sand
On the core of our heart.
The dark waves crawl into you
And take you to deep disappearance.
The memory of you left the stars behind,
Which still haunt me
When I fall into the Ocean.
Tyler Aug 2023
someone to dance with,
I can't wait to make love with you tonight.
        Just watching you be you.
        We wanted some romance
   but all we've got is love.
Your eyes are like the stars up above,
   one more moondance,
  could I make some romance to you?
You're too good to be true
won't take these eyes off of you,
enchanted, entranced,
the top of my love list
I sat down to work
until the moon
kissed me.
Then we
danced!
Kurt Philip Behm Jun 2022
California Dreamin…
Momma Told Me Not To Come
By The Time I Get To Phoenix
Will Anybody Really Know What Time Has Spun

Hotel California…
Its Chain Gang wearing thin
Searching for an American Woman
Blowin In The Wind

Bill Bojangles Robinson…
preaching Fire And Rain
New York’s A Lonely Lonely Town
dragging Ball And Chain

Summertime Blues and Porgy’s drowning…
Riders On The Storm
Layla kisses Judy Blue Eyes
Stairway To Heaven scorned

Woodstock and a Big Bear Scrambler…
Who’ll Stop The Rain
Don’t Think Twice this Hard Day’s Night
Eli’s Comin again

Hey Jude, Moondance is calling…
It’s Too Late says Ms. King
Yesterday’s Hound Dog barking Crazy
—the Purple Haze begins

(Rosemont College: June, 2022)

— The End —