Sunsets and Moons

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Smiling sunset,

Red orangish hues,

Earthy rays like georgia clay,

Thick, deep, and opague,



Staring Moon

Black ink fills the moon,

Compassion caresses the outside

Glowing silver moon



Beaming Sunset

Pure light reigning through

Yellow gold, light reaching out,

Extended hand to me and you



Quarter Moon

Sliver, slick grin,

Holding onto a dirty secret

Howling, followed by laughter,

Beasts of the night



Blood Red Sunset

Poured from veins

into vessel,

Stand Out beauty

Like a dangerous lover,

The vixens kiss is bliss and deadly



Sleepy Moon

Glowing like a lamb before slaughter

Rested and wide-eyed,

Prepared for fate,

Fading back into the sky.



by Erik Estabrook

Right now its full moon.
Unfortunely its cloudy.

In the link you can calculate how much your weight is at the moon and the sun.

Moon : 14.76 kg
Zon : 2516.76 kg

http://www.zouaafsoft.be/Spelletjes/gew ... aneten.htm


The moon phases for the comming year.

^^ Haven’t heard that in awhile! Nice .

An Aussie sunset(from quite a few years ago when I lived in Canberra, ACT)

Sunrise here in Surrey, England a few weeks ago ...


A Cornish Sunset over the Mine(Cornwall this past July)...

Fire in the sky Juliette



The moon almost did hit the Glastonbury Tor, a boy did overcome a disaster by rolling the moon down on the left side of the hill. Sometimes i love illusions more than reality.

All i have to is dream, i agree with the everly borthers famous words.

I follow the moon on a sandy path,
Down to the ocean.
It calls to me, puts me under a spell, as it always did ...
I discard all cloth, diving under the waves.

No other cure for the stresses of life
Has ever effected a calm
Quite like the ripples and metres high folding
Of waters beneath the moonlight.

Having lived in central Georgia for several years in mid 1970s I so totally get that!

Driving on red clay roads after a summer downpour could be a bit of an adventure

I like your poem. It reminds me of the Beat Poets.

Although perhaps they would leave out a few of the smaller words, in order to make it flow more like Japanese Zen Poetry Haiku, sometimes leaving out the obvious words, which provokes thought and contemplation by the reader.

Using Haiku type of poignant language can be really powerful as well as interesting, I think it can be done without using the strict syllable structure.

Although, i can't say that I am particularly any good at poetry.
I like Haiku and how the Japanese and Chinese value their poetry. An influence from Confucianism, Zen Buddhism, Toaism and Shinto.

As their entire society was influenced, the noble Warrior were not considered masters if they did not master more than just their fighting arts.

The film Hero, where Jet Li paints with a massive brush while under attack is meant to illustrate this.
Even while under attack his brush work is perfect, and you can tell by his caligraphy that he has also perfected
his Warrior arts (through the smoothness and power found in his brush strokes, even while under pressure of attack).
Yes, Great film.

Great poem.

[quote="Juliette"]

Beautiful picture beautiful silhouette.

Thank you!

A dutch song about walking in the sun.

^^ Nice to hear a previously unheard dutch song

This thread is inspiring me to write poetry again(sorry ) This was written tonight ... blame it on the moon!

Beneath a London Moon

A full moon lit the way, on that crisp, clear Winter’s Eve,
As she made her way through London town, new story yet to weave.
Yesterday so bleak and grey, the pieces smashed and scattered
For life can cruelly tear apart, the very thing that matters.

The boat was anchored, waiting for her, in St Katherine’s Docks,
Her boho skirt was flowing as were her golden locks
A trace of vertivert and leather, ‘lectricity in the air
She’d only ever read his words, tonight he would be there.

Candles on the table, that lay atop the deck,
She heard the guitar playing, a tune she won’t forget.
How many times she’d contemplated blocking out the words.
Etched upon her mind now, emotions they had stirred.

Free to make her own way, to build her life anew,
Apartment, garden terrace with a sparkling riverview.
The Thames, laid out before her, Tower Bridge to the left
Outline of St Paul’s Cathedral, the Shard, and cobbles swept.

Fresh linen lay upon the bed, fresh roses in the vase.
White and yellow daisies on the decking, ‘neath the stars.
Typewriter on the little desk, awaits the finished tale
Of a life that’s just beginning, a boat that’s yet to sail.

It caught her unexpectedly, this bolt out of the blue.
Mysterious, magnetic, intense with cravings new.
She fought against the power, it held o’er her thoughts,
Her carefree life in jeopardy, blast lust and her cohorts.

A life without commitment, a life she can control.
Sunny Summer afternoons, strawberries while she strolls.
Cocktails on the terrace, vinyl LPs too
Soul and Jazz and Hardcore Rock, Vivaldi and The Who.

But here he stands before her, beneath this yellow moon.
Takes her hand, a gentle hug, she’s trying not to swoon.
Otis Reading playing, the vinyl spinning round,
He picks her up and sweeps her tenderly from off the ground.

We cannot know what lies ahead, we only know that time
Is never guaranteed or promised, precious love sublime.
So take these stolen moments, set beneath this London moon,
Hold onto them forever, don’t let them fade too soon.

Wonderful Poesy!

Thanks KK ... and for teaching me a new word .