Poems on the topic: moon

Poems on the topic “moon” on Poets.by.

AngryDave Bonta

Oligarch

I tend to business with old man’s hands as full of violence as a small city two ices that ought to be moons in a garden gone bad
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Blear

ice like a trap for the moon my left eye troubled with rheum
AngryDave Bonta

At the club

a pretty pair of gloves on the Parliament-man that was cursing the poor how they fight till they drop though their eyes be unlucky as if they had no bread the white hearse of a moon set over a sad house down into the morning tide
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Tenement

knocked up rising to the window moon shine on her lip like a light supper
DreamyDave Bonta

Alternate histories

we might have grown white and thin as rope over and over the ground and had other bodies a secret to be hid but not under the house not in the light of a would-be moon ships of ice guns without bullet to grieve
AnxiousDave Bonta

Land escape

going into the country we land in a maze the good life is admirable but for the old and ill even the half-moon cannot fit in grown every day below in the cellar
DreamyDave Bonta

Resonance

at night a body begins to ring I love a cold moon it being dangerous to walk on water
AnxiousDave Bonta

Dead town

Fleet with my word, I talk bodies out of their graves, which please me better than sitting in a dark place, not seeing. We stand and make the moon take to bed.
DreamyDave Bonta

Commission

Carpenter, make me a door into my life. I am a crow, a plain old woman. I bring none but myself to dinner by the light of the moon. Give me a further gallery in my good ear.
DreamyDave Bonta

Simón Zopeloxochitl de Texcoco

The hummingbird of day has yielded to the hummingbird of night. With a single pair of feathers on his head he flies on wings of mica & finds his way with eyes of yellow quartz. Unlike his daytime cousin he doesn’t do battle: summer nights are short. Flowers uncurl after sunset just for him. Pry open the tight bud of his thorax, searching out the heart to eat for courage, & you won’t find anything that beats: a maze of dry husks filled with moonlight.
AnxiousDave Bonta

Oysterous

I took a barrel of oysters and observed how they cry: An Indian sold the moon. Men were hanged for a dog fouling the bed. All night I dream that my wife made me ill.

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