Leslie Philibert

Bronze Star - 2,690 Points (6th March 1954 / London, England)

Leslie Philibert Poems

281. A Small Girl Sleeping At Night 8/7/2014
282. Flora 5/27/2014
283. Paperboy 4/12/2015
284. Girl At A Bus Stop 3/18/2015
285. Winter - Four Pictures 12/23/2012
286. Brickie 10/20/2012
287. Punctuation And The Edge Of Love 1/12/2013
288. A New Footnote To Howl 9/3/2012
289. Why I Don`t Care At All About Copyright 10/5/2012
290. Weltschmerz 8/22/2012
291. The Sparrow`s Order 7/12/2012
292. Summer Rain 5/18/2013
293. Cologne Cathedral 5/19/2013
294. Herbert And The Cats 3/28/2013
295. Midnight 5/2/2013
296. Asperger 7/29/2013
297. The Crystal Palace Is Burning 9/10/2013
298. Under Brighton Pier 10/4/2013
299. My Heart Is As Big As A London Bus (A Poem For Children) 12/8/2012
300. Blessed Are The Prepositions 1/17/2014
301. The Fox Children Of Winter 11/1/2013
302. A Bavarian Winter 12/22/2013
303. Walk Slowly At My Burial 9/7/2013
304. House 7/15/2013
305. A Lifting Of Birds 7/11/2012
306. Apple Children 9/22/2012
307. Wind 7/26/2012
308. Crystal Night 9/18/2016
309. A Ring Of Stars 6/24/2016
310. A Winter`s Ending 3/6/2013
311. Words 3/31/2013
312. Two Rooms 4/9/2014
313. On The Death Of A Girl 2/15/2014
314. The Last Harvest 3/24/2013
315. Train 8/2/2012
316. A Cup Of Tea After Dad`s Death 9/19/2012
317. The Earth And Earth 7/12/2012
318. A Short Primer Of Stones 7/3/2013
319. And Then 7/23/2012
320. Synecdoche 2/4/2014
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

Why I Hate Gravity

heavier than down,
pulling and falling,
red-kneeled prayer to the god

of downstairs and tears,
of steps, gravel and caves;
flapping like a torn flag,

the fool of terra, trapped under
the bricks of the world,
flightless, too low to rise

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