Leslie Philibert

Bronze Star - 2,669 Points (6th March 1954 / London, England)

Leslie Philibert Poems

201. Grey In One Line 3/8/2016
202. Retribution 3/25/2016
203. Incident 4/7/2016
204. Tunnel 4/17/2016
205. Kaltfront 5/8/2016
206. Rungholt 5/24/2016
207. Rain 6/5/2016
208. The Wrong Summer 6/12/2016
209. Winter Onions 9/28/2016
210. Falling 10/6/2016
211. Statement 10/18/2016
212. Limbo 11/4/2016
213. Tree Child 11/17/2016
214. Agrippina`s Ghost 11/24/2016
215. Kalthaus 12/8/2016
216. A Possible Witch 12/17/2016
217. Council Girl 12/28/2016
218. Beethoven-Haus 1/6/2017
219. A Tree Suffers Under Snow 1/15/2017
220. Empty As A Fool 1/27/2017
221. Ramona In A Hammock 2/8/2017
222. Lemons For Klara 2/18/2017
223. The Dark Between The Stars 2/25/2017
224. Breaking The Weather 3/5/2017
225. Golem 3/13/2017
226. The Slaughter Of Trees 3/24/2017
227. Cheer Yourself Up! 3/28/2017
228. Paradise Lost 4/12/2017
229. Three Short Poems About Italy 4/29/2017
230. Night Spinning 5/14/2017
231. Glass Man 5/25/2017
232. Each Scar Tells A Story 6/7/2017
233. After Reading The Bell Jar 6/20/2017
234. Pictures Of Perfect Guitar Chords 7/1/2017
235. Why I Hate Gravity 7/9/2017
236. An Angular Boy 7/20/2017
237. The North Cape 7/11/2016
238. High North 7/31/2016
239. Old 8/17/2016
240. Frozen Fox 8/24/2016
Best Poem of Leslie Philibert

The Night The Moon Got Stolen

In the night the moon got stolen
lunatics shook their fists at empty heavens,
cats stared at holes in the dark night
and seas turned into lakes, tides refused,

And songwriters hit the wrong keys
while lovers went home for an early night,
words were not whispered in ears nor
arms thrown across shoulders in first joy.

Have no fear for this lost face in the sky,
the lady that shimmers over standing water.
Aurora will bring the slow return of dawn,
Libertas will free this stolen moonlight.

Read the full of The Night The Moon Got Stolen

Escape

When the silence is as taut as a violin string
the rest awaits as you climb past the invitation
of an open window, your day in shopping bags

that redden the joints of your hands, as if you
wait helpless at a busy junction, the heavy trucks
that throw warmth and grit in your face,

this is graceless, like worn slippers under a hospital bed

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