AstroPoetry

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Comment by capri-s_libra-r_sag-m on November 10, 2009 at 1:57am

Neptune...
.. it was a dream, I felt her eyes slowly studying me,as if she spoke softly, " Soul last name's Mate"
...I felt her presence long before this day
...much like a conversation between souls without the utterance of words
... this moment was... this moment is... the essence of a ageless love..
...a dream,
seen through Neptune sextile Venus...2 b cont'd

9/18/09

Comment by capri-s_libra-r_sag-m on November 10, 2009 at 1:54am

in this lifetime..

write a song, quote my longings, open my wounds and bring forth healing, loose me Venus, from my stirring existence,your softness be my cure, I've wrestled with reality and it won this time, deceived by Neptune's weightless audacity I was smitten, romantically fixed on your beauty, my chances were unfortunate, rebound, Pluto transformed me and on that day I accepted my destiny, but my Venus I'll feel your likeness next lifetime because in those days you will be mine.

9/18/09

Comment by Kari on July 17, 2009 at 2:00am

Passive?
Feb '09

Sit back, listen to all their trash.
Unicorns and rainbows, vivid images in my mind.
They say I'm passive, maybe I'm just wise.

What's the point of speaking up?
I'm always wrong anyway.
Fields of wild flowers, yellow and bright.
The sun does shine once in awhile.

Constant chatter, incessant bickering...
Lean back, relax..
Can they tell I'm really not listening?
So wrapped up in their anger, lifes' beautiful disasters..
Gypsies dance and frolic about, high spirits, contagious laughter.
Oops now they're livid, mad as hell...
"Sorry it's not you" I say, "Just the people in my head."

Passive? maybe.. Insane? Quite a possibility.
There must be some connection, some intrinsic motivation,
instilled in me, to shy away from direct confrontation

Comment by AquaLover on March 8, 2009 at 12:36pm

Lost

Little boy wandering around looking for me
Me wandering around looking for thee
I see you, but it’s not true
Where was I, when you flew
Away, far but close, here but not
How do I find your true heart?
Give me a hint, leave me a trail
Please help me, I don’t want to fail
We love you, I love you don’t you know
My tears just flow and flow
When will you come home back to me?
Be a rebel, dance and be free
Look back, here I am, calling your name
You were wrong…I care….I came……..

Comment by Rie on March 2, 2009 at 2:06pm

Hello all! I love artistic expression of any sort.

Comment by PensiveGemini on December 16, 2008 at 1:35am

April 5th

Idiosyncrasy- life.
Unrequited "love"
with an equal distribution of bodies.
Respect after calculated submission,
defeat following the brush of your hand
against the forehead that pleased you.
I wanted you completely—
Incompletely.
Accepting you were promised elsewhere,
it was enough
as long as your body entangled mine after midnight.
--Here comes the sun--
and your hand became a paint brush against my back.
“Time to leave…” it whispered,
and I complied with my need
to run away before my awareness found me.
Together we cultivated a moment
that ended the same way it began—
familiarly hesitant.

Comment by emma sweeney on September 22, 2008 at 8:13pm

The Dinner Party - by Emma Sweeney

It was a delicate affair
New faces would grace her table
And the familiar ones would also appear
Her children could complicate matters

The menu was carefully planned
Green chicken curry, saffron rice, a green salad and apple tart
The shopping took half of a Saturday morning
Her trusty old cow-patterned shopping trolley did the honours

Her partner in crime, another cook, a vegetarian Aquarius
Met her at the old fruit and vegetable market in town
Aubergines were handled and admired
And the luscious purple fruit passed all their stringent tests

The produce was assembled, cut, sauteed and stewed
Until three separate dishes stood guard on the old wooden table
A salad and two bottles of rose accompanied the meal
And a quartet of cheeses lay breathing on the sideboard

The guests devoured all before them
And saluted the chefs with tall-stemmed glasses
A poet of the Virgo persuasion boasted of his sexual prowess
and a Scorpionic psychotherapist played with a wind-up crab

The children wove in and out and splashed in an azure pool
Bought that morning from the local pound shop
Their squeals of delight echoing lightly off the sandy coloured bricks
They sunbathed on stripy towels prickling on the grass

All the guests left at midnight. Unlike Keats, they did not cease upon the hour
But bundled themselves into taxis and stumbled up their stairs.
Once inside they slithered into their sheets and murmured a slurry goodnight
They would save the fuck for the morning, it was a Sunday after all.

Emma Sweeney June 2008 Brighton.

Comment by Samantha on September 3, 2008 at 6:25pm

Poetry is such a beautiful way to express emotion. It comes so naturally to me though. I would imagine most of the people in here like poetry to be drawn to such a group! :)

Comment by TheProfesh on August 15, 2008 at 2:29am

Does anyone enjoy poetry?

Comment by ZoraidaGitana on July 7, 2008 at 1:03pm

It looks like a beautiful place to be in......


xx