Guest Post information

This blog is expanding really fast, new followers are coming on board every single day and I’m thrilled! Our little community is not that little anymore! I went back to posting much more of my work to the blog because I had this period where I personally didn’t post that much and now it’s time for your lovely submissions to come in!

Since new bloggers who join us have questions about guest posts and don’t feel like digging through the blog to find all of the previous posts here are the three ways you can guest post on Luna. I will probably repeat this post after every 200-400 new followers just to keep everyone up to speed.

So our beloved POETRY BAR – here you send your poetry works to poetrybar1@gmail.com together with a few words about yourself and a link to your blog and an Instagram account if you have one since The Poetry Bar does and we post your works there also. Check it out here:  https://www.instagram.com/the.poetrybar/

Our second guest post category is #savingme project – here you can share your stories about any type of abuse you’ve experienced. The email is savingmestory@gmail.com. The project was made to let abuse victims know they are not alone. If you don’t want to share your whole story, you can share how you got out, some advice to people going through this hell currently. It’s a safe place and your story can be published completely anonymously. Also, you can see that I post about my own experience with domestic abuse and not only my story but my thoughts, mechanisms that helped me overcome it etc.

Can’t wait to see what you send!

Sending love and positive vibes,
Luna

The Dance We Do

an atmosphere heavy with delight
long, slow dances
passionate embraces
kisses lasting for days
never-ending charm
a connection worth fighting for

alters over time
and circumstance

too many distractions
too many annoyances
too many broken promises

further cracks
until there’s nothing left

to fight about
when the memories of love
weren’t ever permanent
and present sorrow bound up
in yesteryears love
goes in the direction
of letting it all go

Susi Bocks – writer/author/poet, has self-published two books – Feeling Human and Every Day I Pause. You can find her work at IWriteHer.com or follow her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/MyHumanityInWrittenForm/, where she invites you to read her thoughts and get to know her. Bocks’ work has been published in the anthology SMITTEN: This Is What Love Looks Like: Poetry by Women for Women and in Scarlet Leaf Review, VitaBrevis, Spillwords, Literary Yard, as well as other literary magazines.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Poem #311

I was scared of deepness
but your hand around my waist
kept me safe on the surface of the sea.
It was the first time that somebody didn’t
let me sink.

Your words and the sound of waves always
made me shiver. The taste of sea and the sunrays
dancing on your skin will appear in my dreams.
You carved memories on my heart instead of scars.

Skinny dipping, talking, running and laughing.
Everything felt simpler when you were around.

Even though you’re kissing my neck while
I’m writing these lines I have to leave you, I have
to say goodbye. Please don’t ask me to stay and don’t
make this harder on yourself. Just kiss me one more time,
let go of my hand and remember me every now and then.

Poem #310

Darling you’re like this fourth
glass of wine and cigarette between my fingers
I just keep on coming back to you
because you’re in my blood system.

I inhale your lust and exhale
your desire while your two days old
beard is caressing my cheek. You
linger between my lips long after you’re gone.

I drink your words like this red wine
and I can never get enough.
You get me drunk with your touch.
When ever I pour me another one
I want you by my side.

Whenever I light up another one
I can feel your presence and I crave
your lips on mine. If only I could
have you in the nearest shop like a
fresh pack I wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Some winter nights I stay up and look
at the sky possessed by the wish to see you
and hold you between my fingers tight. Then
I would just bring you to my lips and you’d be mine.

I’m empting this bottle and this pack and
I’m realizing you’re not around.
Like this cigarette, you are my vice and even though
you poisoned me you made me feel alive.

Like a cigarette I burned out. Your arrival
will be the fire – come here and light me up.

 

Poem #309

Good evening, cold wind, please
be my messenger tonight and tell me
how he has been. While you’re passing by
this empty terrace of mine tell me was it me?

Was it me that wasn’t good enough to fulfill
his needs? Is she doing a better job than I ever will?
Is he proud to walk with her down the street and do
the things he has never done with me?

Is it stupid and naïve to whisper in my sleep
the words he used to whisper in my ear?
After everything I just want to see him smile
even though I’m not the reason why.

Good evening, cold wind, please be my
messenger tonight and tell her he likes it when
someone caresses his forearm. Let her know
how he loves to be surprised with a sudden hug.

Tell the one that’s in my place now I’ve given up
the fight. Oh, cold wind, convey this message to her;
tell her to make him smile because I would die
if I saw him cry.

Poem #308

Work, study, just do something for what
society claims will lead you to a better life.
In the end she’ll be the same as all of them.
In the end, no matter how good she is, she’ll
keep standing in the same spot unless she has
a string to pull or some money that’ll get her by.

On the outside she looks nice and put together.
Drew that smile on her face and made
them think she’s got a hold of things.
She doesn’t show any weakness because she
knows it will lead to her destruction. She learns
what is there to learn and never shows incompetence.

The life she wants is written in her blood system.
She knows she has what it takes to win but it’s so
hard to stand out sometimes, it’s so hard for her
to pull herself together when she just wants to fall apart.
Tired and exhausted are the definitions of her physical state,
torn apart and insanity is what’s going on in her head.

But in the nights she shuts the lights
off and looks at herself from another light.
She lights the fire and inhales the life
in which everything is alright.

She is shined upon a light that leads
her to the life she always lived but never had.
A life that exists only in her dreams
where she’s safe and sound.

Go on girl, a new day is coming, you should
get prepared. Blow the roof of this place and
show them you are better than you were yesterday.
Just fake some strength and try your best to believe that
somewhere out there your life awaits.

Poem #307

Curtains up, the crowd gathered
around the stage to see another life
getting wasted away. They’ll just nod
their heads, saying that it’s too bad.

They’ll be saying that the whole plot is
sad, maybe they’ll even feel something
around their heart but in the end they’ll
do what they always do. They’ll leave.

I’m just this puppet on a string, hopelessly
believing that one day someone will grab the
scissors and cut the strings. Hopelessly believing
someone will save me from this hell I’m living in.

Show after show, lie after lie, tear after
tear – something broke in my heart.
All hope vanished from my life, my brain
took control, and my heart is only pumping blood.

I’m lying next to my broken guitar shined by
the moonlight that built something inside of me.
Was it good or was it bad – I’ll never now. I just
now nothing’s ever going to be alright.

Suddenly I wanted to feel the ground under
my feet and not always the string that’s tying them up.
I wanted to walk on my own and stop the people
who manipulate me but never help me.

Suddenly a gray tone appeared in my eyes
and it changed my perspective of life. The
moon whispered a melody into my ear every time
it appeared in its full shine.

I’m hearing the strings of my old guitar, I’m
breaking the strings that are tying me up. I killed
the puppet master, I regained control. This
puppet show is done, it’s time for my solo performance now.