A Lark on the Moon

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I am on the Moon.
No one can find me here
To no atmosphere I adhere
The chains of oxygen hewn
The full Earth on the horizon

The Brazilian coastal lights
Clustered on the coast
A feeble ghost
Of the United States’ yellow-whites
In China people rouse

I don’t remember being down there
These craters and marias are all I've known
This human-free zone
Barred to all who breathe air
My domain alone.
Once upon a time, there was a man who was allergic to peanuts. He was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by the side of the mountain, and a rock fell on him and he died.
Moral of the story: Expect the unexpected.
Like fried sushi.




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Hello there Faerie!

Most of your poem didn't really make much sense. Here is what I mean.

eurobeat_faerie wrote:I am on the Moon.
No one can find me here
To no atmosphere I adhere
The chains of oxygen hewn
The full Earth on the horizon


Why would your character be hiding out on the moon? I read over the two remaining stanzas, and there is nothing to suggest that this takes place in the future. Therefore, we can only assume that it takes place in the present.

With that information in hand, we know that the only people who come to the moon today are astronauts, who are not looking to get away from people.

That said, what is the point of your poem? You spend three stanzas gushing over pretty words. The heart of poetry is a message, and you have no clear one.

I'm not saying that you should scrap this idea, but I think it has more potential a story. That way, you have time to fully cover all aspects that would make this a worthwhile piece.
Keep writing, and please PM if you have any questions.

All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them.

-- Walt Disney




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This wasn't meant to be a poem that tells a story. It was meant to capture a feeling.
Once upon a time, there was a man who was allergic to peanuts. He was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by the side of the mountain, and a rock fell on him and he died.
Moral of the story: Expect the unexpected.
Like fried sushi.




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I kind of get where you're coming from, eurobeat.
eurobeat_faerie wrote:The Brazilian coastal lights
Clustered on the coast
A feeble ghost
Of the United States’ yellow-whites
In China people rouse

I like this stanza the best, though I figure it would be impossible to see these things from the moon, unless you look at the swirls and sort of imagine them in your mind's eye, like I assumed you did.
But the next stanza is odd; because after something like yearning, or reminiscence for the earth you claim to never remember being down there.. maybe you should put the second stanza first, so it goes like this
eurobeat_faerie wrote:The Brazilian coastal lights
Clustered on the coast
A feeble ghost
Of the United States’ yellow-whites
In China people rouse

I am on the Moon.
No one can find me here
To no atmosphere I adhere
The chains of oxygen hewn
The full Earth on the horizon

I don’t remember being down there
These craters and marias are all I've known
This human-free zone
Barred to all who breathe air
My domain alone.
I am on the Moon.
No one can find me here
To no atmosphere I adhere
The chains of oxygen hewn
The full Earth on the horizon

The Brazilian coastal lights
Clustered on the coast
A feeble ghost
Of the United States’ yellow-whites
In China people rouse

I don’t remember being down there
These craters and marias are all I've known
This human-free zone
Barred to all who breathe air
My domain alone.

take that advice or leave it. That's just my ever-humble opinion.
Great job and keep writing.
empress
Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart.
*Le Bible
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Haha, this is good...Very original subject. This is one of my favorite rhyming scheme, and I rarely read any poems using it.I'm not really one for long poems so this really appeals to me. The only thing is punctuation, don't be afraid of it! It's your friend, and greatly improves your poems. Also you don't need to capitalize the beginning of every line. Poetry capitalization is exactly the same as if you were doing any other type of writing. Keep writing!
"I'd rather be hated for being who I am, then loved for who I'm not."



"The trouble with Borrowing another mind was, you always felt out of place when you got back to your own body, and Granny was the first person ever to read the mind of a building. Now she was feeling big and gritty and full of passages. 'Are you all right?' Granny nodded, and opened her windows. She extended her east and west wings and tried to concentrate on the tiny cup held in her pillars."
— Terry Pratchett, Discworld: Equal Rites