But, even with the starlit city in my view, I couldn’t help but remember the times Peter Pan whisked me away and brought me to the second star to the right. Sometimes, through the light pollution of New York, I could see the star, and seemed to notice the faint outline of a pirate ship sailing out of it. I knew it was just a hallucination, for Hook would never be able to find me so far from him home.
It was too dark out when I took the dog for his last bathroom trip outside. I couldn’t see where I was going and frankly, was tired of these near midnight trips. Why couldn’t he jsut learn to go in the potty? What’s so hard about that? I taught my kid to do it and all she ever tells me is no. My dog is eager to please you’d think he would want to do what I ask.
Starry, starry night, gave you quite a fright.
Creatures of the night, ready for a fight.
And I don’t see your knight, guess she saw your plight,
Fear took its bite, and she gave up on her right.
The starlit skies were a canopy over the lovers tent. They lied outside in the grass, staring up at the simple yet magnificent beauty of it all. How blessed they were to be here now. Away from the world, just with each other. Happy. Peaceful.
I was gazing up at the stars. They shone brightly, casting long, sad shadows over the traffic heavy city. Sometimes, I could see the second star to the right, and pictured Peter Pan coming back for me and swiping me away from this terrible life.
And on another starlit night, she might’ve said yes. But not this one. Not when Kya still held the bell: glowing, golden, dust like dancing ferries falling from it. No. She couldn’t tell her yes, not when the bell was still missing from their mother’s cupboard. Not when their mother yet cried, waiting, waiting, for the return of the thing.
I see him looking at me. we’re standing in the snow, freezing. But I don’t feel cold. All I see is his eyes. His starlit eyes. And I know for sure this time that I’m in the right place with the right person. I just know. I’m here. He’s here. He breathes, I breathe. He moves, I move. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. It’s all so new to me, I don’t know how this goes… He comes closer, I move closer, and our mouths become one.
The evening was deafeningly quiet. Ears of organisms could not bear to process what exactly was happening, but there was an ubiquitous awareness in the atmosphere.
Something was wrong.
What a beautiful sight on a summer evening in Africa to be miles from any lights and in the midst of nature at it’s best and look up into a starlit sky
the darkest places are always
where the stars are brightest-
i remember you saying this.
it is almost as if cities decide
that the lights belong down on
earth – from an airplane, the
view of the urban landscape
feels like you are looking
down at the night sky.
i guess this means our
progress comes at the expense
of forgetting the ones that
always brought us home
in the days we were lost.
one day, if i ever achieve
my dreams, i know it will be
because you guided me
back to where i wanted to
go, when i needed it most.
i learned to chart each and
every path around you,
when the horizons around
me were unfamiliar.
and even if this means
we will go on separate paths
one day, you will never really
fade from the memories of
each time i observe the sunset-
i could never really drown out
your light, even if i was able
to restore mine. i guess this
was why it’s accurate, that i
met you from the transition
of insomniac-filled nights
to painted mornings-
because maybe you weren’t
the common perception
of what we think are stars-
not all of them appear
in the night time;
and not all of them are
of the same distance,
even if they might
appear to be.
and i am willing to take
on the risk that we
belong on different
timelines – but you will
always be the reminder
throughout my history
of the possibility of
new beginnings.
As I gazed into the starlit sky I wondered yet again why I had chosen to wear flipflops for our moonlit walk. Maybe it was because I had just painted my toenails. Toenails that are now painted with a nice thick layer of mud.
It was a star lit night and I couldn’t help remember how beautiful tranquility could be. There was an instant ease in my heart and I wondered how the stars far far away could touch our hearts so much!
its actually star lit….i mean…moon lit…stars are small but the moon is prominent…and unique….stars are many….and countless….and boring..they appear now and disappear again…moon is more dear to me…not the stars
Starlit as she was, half her body was a shadowed silhouette, the other a dazzling array of silver light.
It struck me suddenly that, in that moment, she’d never been more open to me, more real, and it had nothing to do with the lack of barrier between us. Light and dark, shadow and stars, this…balance, this place in between, THIS was her.
The sky was dark while we were heading home, the other day, and all of a sudden, directly overhead, there was a starlit that light up the entire area that we in.
She had dreamed of this day her whole life. She was now a starlit. The lights flashed in her face, the masses screamed her name. There had been a price to pay to get to where she now was. Him. She had lost him. Most of the time she didn’t think fame was worth the sacrifice, but in moments like this she knew she was where she should be. She belonged to the world and the world was her oyster. But oh did he use to smell so good…
The midnight sky was beatifully starlit. They sat on the soft grass, watching in silence the bright sources of light over their heads. It was one of those things you do not do daily, but when you take a moment and actually appreciate it, it amazes you.
it’s make me hard to sleep at night, because starlit always comes up in the darkness and light up my room until it all too bright to even see everything and then suddenly i became so small
“Starlit navy blanket, a backdrop to the pale full moon…” – I remember writing this line in a poem when I was 16. I miss that girl now that I’m 32. “Lemon tigers” in “azure beds” serving the likes of an “Airy Empresses” don’t pop anymore. I remember these small fairytales in fragments, perhaps I should have cherished them more.
the way my eyes feel when i look at you. i remember turning over one morning, seeing you still asleep. diamond studs in your ears. looking out the window and feeling my love for you hit me suddenly in my stomach. i knew it was there, but never that much. seems so far away now. i guess that’s how things go
There is a place in time where the sun doesn’t exist. Its odd to think of, sure, but I’ll find that you can see it easily if only you try hard. Not only that, but it is simple to find that this sunlight creates your own happiness, that without this starlit world, we might be all lost and searching…
The little fort was taking shape. The pillows were laid. Excited little voices shouted out in glee. “Hush now”, said Mommy. Let’s turn off the lights. They did. They lay on their tummies and looked out and above. Wow! How pretty was the starlit sky!
I will always remember the first time that I saw the Southern Cross.
Amandla and crew were on Day Four of an eight-day passage from Las Perlas, Panama to Isla Isabela Galapagos. We were 3 degrees north of the equator. I was standing the 0300 – 0600 hours watch. The Captain was asleep below. There was nothing around but the rolling sea and the starlit sky. The Milky Way shown more clearly than I had ever seen it before, like prints on wallpaper that I could reach out to and touch.
And then I saw it, the Southern Cross, shining brightly off the starboard side of the boat.
I thought of the Crosby Stills & Nash song and I thought of how often during my life I had dreamed of seeing this constellation. And now, here it was. Here I was. My eyes filled with tears. What a moment………
It wasn’t until after we had arrived and anchored off Puerto Villamil that the Captain pointed out the real Southern Cross to me. Apparently, I had been admiring the constellation Musca for several days rather than Crux, the Southern Cross.
When I first started corresponding with the Captain in July of 2010, he wrote ‘I know what I am not: I am not your average couch potato or your average MBA & BMW. But I can show you the Southern Cross and I can be there for you if you can be there for me in times of need….
…. and he did. And he was, well sort of, eventually, after some time, but that is for another story.
During the first full moon of the hottest July in years, my hair plastered to my forehead in sweat I noticed how the starlit sky twinkled as if I could reach out and pluck one of the sky.
A starlit night, it was
So beautiful
So peaceful
Everywhere the stars shine down, on us
And tonight was a very special night,
As are all nights
That are starlit nights
The yellow flames draw the sky gold
While the others withdraw their light
They take turns, my friends
like a set of neon lights
saying that yes, 24/7
we’re open!
the universe remains cold and
full of stars.
i look at the gaudy frenzy
in the sky
and wish i could drink some of it.
a shot of galaxy.
It was a beautiful night, the sky clear, and vast and dark. She gazed up at the stars, and wondered what it would be like, to be up there. One of them.
Would it be cold? Someone had told her that space was empty and cold, but she wasn’t sure she believed them.
Not that it really mattered; space was unattainable.
We met. He was just a shadow in the doorway and I was an underage kid. Before I knew it we were on the roof top of his home. The hot July night slightly cooled off by the breeze under the starlit night. He kissed me, not knowing I was only a week away from my 15th birthday. Not until the next day did he realize this. Being a good man of sound mind and body he had nothing more to do with me. Very wise for a boy of 18. Six years passed before I would see him again. I was old enough to see him play in a band and for him to buy me a drink…but again, timing was not on our side. Twenty six years passed before I received a message from a mutual friend…”he is looking for you”. And now eleven years later I am trying to decide what to do for our wedding anniversary…what gift says “thank you for being here”?.
I gaze up at the starlit sky and wonder if he still thinks about me. I wonder whether he’ll keep his promise. I wonder whether I dreamt him up or if he was actually real. I wonder if he’s looking up at the same sky.
He sat down in front of the television to watch the race. It was a clear, warm day, and as the horses lined up at the start, the camera flashes from the grandstand were like a starlit sky, only in daytime. The white flag that would signal the start of the race was raised, but did not fall as several of the horses bolted from the line. “Fuck”, he stuttered, sending foam from his beer onto the carpet; ” A false start!”. Then he remembered, he didn’t care who won, because he would win regardless. He leaned back, and waited for the restart, but the television commentator was getting increasingly excited. Several horses were still running! He watched in disbelief as the race descended into chaos. Fifteen minutes later, the announcement was officially made. The Grand National, for the first time in its history, had been declared void! His glass fell to the floor and his mind went blank. In a plan where he had covered every possibility, the impossible had happened!
The starlit night was perfect for the suicide.
It seemed poetical, actually. “The tragic hero taking one last look at the milky-white moon as he slits the gleaming knife across his throat…”
He wasn’t going to romanticize the situation, of course. But death on a starlit night seemed like a pretty good way to go.
But, even with the starlit city in my view, I couldn’t help but remember the times Peter Pan whisked me away and brought me to the second star to the right. Sometimes, through the light pollution of New York, I could see the star, and seemed to notice the faint outline of a pirate ship sailing out of it. I knew it was just a hallucination, for Hook would never be able to find me so far from him home.
It was too dark out when I took the dog for his last bathroom trip outside. I couldn’t see where I was going and frankly, was tired of these near midnight trips. Why couldn’t he jsut learn to go in the potty? What’s so hard about that? I taught my kid to do it and all she ever tells me is no. My dog is eager to please you’d think he would want to do what I ask.
Starry, starry night, gave you quite a fright.
Creatures of the night, ready for a fight.
And I don’t see your knight, guess she saw your plight,
Fear took its bite, and she gave up on her right.
Ouch, that must hurt.
The starlit skies were a canopy over the lovers tent. They lied outside in the grass, staring up at the simple yet magnificent beauty of it all. How blessed they were to be here now. Away from the world, just with each other. Happy. Peaceful.
I was gazing up at the stars. They shone brightly, casting long, sad shadows over the traffic heavy city. Sometimes, I could see the second star to the right, and pictured Peter Pan coming back for me and swiping me away from this terrible life.
Starlit stark silhouette
Formed of dragon’s breath
Why are you alone?
In this night so cold-
Let me stand with you
Stark starlit silhouettes.
And on another starlit night, she might’ve said yes. But not this one. Not when Kya still held the bell: glowing, golden, dust like dancing ferries falling from it. No. She couldn’t tell her yes, not when the bell was still missing from their mother’s cupboard. Not when their mother yet cried, waiting, waiting, for the return of the thing.
i like being out here with you
lying under a starlit sky
i think i could see them all
but i find myself choosing to stare at you instead
I see him looking at me. we’re standing in the snow, freezing. But I don’t feel cold. All I see is his eyes. His starlit eyes. And I know for sure this time that I’m in the right place with the right person. I just know. I’m here. He’s here. He breathes, I breathe. He moves, I move. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. It’s all so new to me, I don’t know how this goes… He comes closer, I move closer, and our mouths become one.
The evening was deafeningly quiet. Ears of organisms could not bear to process what exactly was happening, but there was an ubiquitous awareness in the atmosphere.
Something was wrong.
What a beautiful sight on a summer evening in Africa to be miles from any lights and in the midst of nature at it’s best and look up into a starlit sky
If I were a Starlit Night
I would paint the sky
In darkest light
the darkest places are always
where the stars are brightest-
i remember you saying this.
it is almost as if cities decide
that the lights belong down on
earth – from an airplane, the
view of the urban landscape
feels like you are looking
down at the night sky.
i guess this means our
progress comes at the expense
of forgetting the ones that
always brought us home
in the days we were lost.
one day, if i ever achieve
my dreams, i know it will be
because you guided me
back to where i wanted to
go, when i needed it most.
i learned to chart each and
every path around you,
when the horizons around
me were unfamiliar.
and even if this means
we will go on separate paths
one day, you will never really
fade from the memories of
each time i observe the sunset-
i could never really drown out
your light, even if i was able
to restore mine. i guess this
was why it’s accurate, that i
met you from the transition
of insomniac-filled nights
to painted mornings-
because maybe you weren’t
the common perception
of what we think are stars-
not all of them appear
in the night time;
and not all of them are
of the same distance,
even if they might
appear to be.
and i am willing to take
on the risk that we
belong on different
timelines – but you will
always be the reminder
throughout my history
of the possibility of
new beginnings.
As I gazed into the starlit sky I wondered yet again why I had chosen to wear flipflops for our moonlit walk. Maybe it was because I had just painted my toenails. Toenails that are now painted with a nice thick layer of mud.
It was a star lit night and I couldn’t help remember how beautiful tranquility could be. There was an instant ease in my heart and I wondered how the stars far far away could touch our hearts so much!
its actually star lit….i mean…moon lit…stars are small but the moon is prominent…and unique….stars are many….and countless….and boring..they appear now and disappear again…moon is more dear to me…not the stars
Starlit as she was, half her body was a shadowed silhouette, the other a dazzling array of silver light.
It struck me suddenly that, in that moment, she’d never been more open to me, more real, and it had nothing to do with the lack of barrier between us. Light and dark, shadow and stars, this…balance, this place in between, THIS was her.
The sky was dark while we were heading home, the other day, and all of a sudden, directly overhead, there was a starlit that light up the entire area that we in.
She had dreamed of this day her whole life. She was now a starlit. The lights flashed in her face, the masses screamed her name. There had been a price to pay to get to where she now was. Him. She had lost him. Most of the time she didn’t think fame was worth the sacrifice, but in moments like this she knew she was where she should be. She belonged to the world and the world was her oyster. But oh did he use to smell so good…
The midnight sky was beatifully starlit. They sat on the soft grass, watching in silence the bright sources of light over their heads. It was one of those things you do not do daily, but when you take a moment and actually appreciate it, it amazes you.
it’s make me hard to sleep at night, because starlit always comes up in the darkness and light up my room until it all too bright to even see everything and then suddenly i became so small
cold asphalt braces my head
eyes wide in wild wonder
while the world washes by my
sense of me goes under
neath and all forgotten til I find myself in you.
starlit is beautiful thing , its gives you relaxment and you can thing and and feel peace and overcome tension and great experience
High in the skies, to pass the time. Gazing at stars in the by and by. Gateway to heaven.
It was another starlit two am. Still, somehow, he couldn’t get her out of his head. Her laugh, her carnivorous smile…. he shuddered.
“Starlit navy blanket, a backdrop to the pale full moon…” – I remember writing this line in a poem when I was 16. I miss that girl now that I’m 32. “Lemon tigers” in “azure beds” serving the likes of an “Airy Empresses” don’t pop anymore. I remember these small fairytales in fragments, perhaps I should have cherished them more.
the way my eyes feel when i look at you. i remember turning over one morning, seeing you still asleep. diamond studs in your ears. looking out the window and feeling my love for you hit me suddenly in my stomach. i knew it was there, but never that much. seems so far away now. i guess that’s how things go
There is a place in time where the sun doesn’t exist. Its odd to think of, sure, but I’ll find that you can see it easily if only you try hard. Not only that, but it is simple to find that this sunlight creates your own happiness, that without this starlit world, we might be all lost and searching…
The little fort was taking shape. The pillows were laid. Excited little voices shouted out in glee. “Hush now”, said Mommy. Let’s turn off the lights. They did. They lay on their tummies and looked out and above. Wow! How pretty was the starlit sky!
I will always remember the first time that I saw the Southern Cross.
Amandla and crew were on Day Four of an eight-day passage from Las Perlas, Panama to Isla Isabela Galapagos. We were 3 degrees north of the equator. I was standing the 0300 – 0600 hours watch. The Captain was asleep below. There was nothing around but the rolling sea and the starlit sky. The Milky Way shown more clearly than I had ever seen it before, like prints on wallpaper that I could reach out to and touch.
And then I saw it, the Southern Cross, shining brightly off the starboard side of the boat.
I thought of the Crosby Stills & Nash song and I thought of how often during my life I had dreamed of seeing this constellation. And now, here it was. Here I was. My eyes filled with tears. What a moment………
It wasn’t until after we had arrived and anchored off Puerto Villamil that the Captain pointed out the real Southern Cross to me. Apparently, I had been admiring the constellation Musca for several days rather than Crux, the Southern Cross.
When I first started corresponding with the Captain in July of 2010, he wrote ‘I know what I am not: I am not your average couch potato or your average MBA & BMW. But I can show you the Southern Cross and I can be there for you if you can be there for me in times of need….
…. and he did. And he was, well sort of, eventually, after some time, but that is for another story.
During the first full moon of the hottest July in years, my hair plastered to my forehead in sweat I noticed how the starlit sky twinkled as if I could reach out and pluck one of the sky.
T’was a starlit night shining down on the boy with the fishing pole. Try as he did, he did not catch a single firefly
A starlit night, it was
So beautiful
So peaceful
Everywhere the stars shine down, on us
And tonight was a very special night,
As are all nights
That are starlit nights
The yellow flames draw the sky gold
While the others withdraw their light
They take turns, my friends
like a set of neon lights
saying that yes, 24/7
we’re open!
the universe remains cold and
full of stars.
i look at the gaudy frenzy
in the sky
and wish i could drink some of it.
a shot of galaxy.
It was a beautiful night, the sky clear, and vast and dark. She gazed up at the stars, and wondered what it would be like, to be up there. One of them.
Would it be cold? Someone had told her that space was empty and cold, but she wasn’t sure she believed them.
Not that it really mattered; space was unattainable.
Starlit nights. Starlight evenings. Starlit vistas.
He would never have them again, not like they were now. Shoved into a different time, the skies were dimmer, the stars weren’t even the same.
We met. He was just a shadow in the doorway and I was an underage kid. Before I knew it we were on the roof top of his home. The hot July night slightly cooled off by the breeze under the starlit night. He kissed me, not knowing I was only a week away from my 15th birthday. Not until the next day did he realize this. Being a good man of sound mind and body he had nothing more to do with me. Very wise for a boy of 18. Six years passed before I would see him again. I was old enough to see him play in a band and for him to buy me a drink…but again, timing was not on our side. Twenty six years passed before I received a message from a mutual friend…”he is looking for you”. And now eleven years later I am trying to decide what to do for our wedding anniversary…what gift says “thank you for being here”?.
I gaze up at the starlit sky and wonder if he still thinks about me. I wonder whether he’ll keep his promise. I wonder whether I dreamt him up or if he was actually real. I wonder if he’s looking up at the same sky.
He sat down in front of the television to watch the race. It was a clear, warm day, and as the horses lined up at the start, the camera flashes from the grandstand were like a starlit sky, only in daytime. The white flag that would signal the start of the race was raised, but did not fall as several of the horses bolted from the line. “Fuck”, he stuttered, sending foam from his beer onto the carpet; ” A false start!”. Then he remembered, he didn’t care who won, because he would win regardless. He leaned back, and waited for the restart, but the television commentator was getting increasingly excited. Several horses were still running! He watched in disbelief as the race descended into chaos. Fifteen minutes later, the announcement was officially made. The Grand National, for the first time in its history, had been declared void! His glass fell to the floor and his mind went blank. In a plan where he had covered every possibility, the impossible had happened!
The starlit night was perfect for the suicide.
It seemed poetical, actually. “The tragic hero taking one last look at the milky-white moon as he slits the gleaming knife across his throat…”
He wasn’t going to romanticize the situation, of course. But death on a starlit night seemed like a pretty good way to go.