Tag: moon

The attraction that lasted

1.

I fell in love with the nose that nuzzled near the nape of my neck,

her fingertips touched mine on Baggot Street bridge that night in May.

We walked with electricity between us.

I talked to myself about the way she spoke through lips I longed to lick.

You could say I was attracted to the ambiguity of her personality, the style with which she tickled my boxers.

2.

I grew familiar with her nose.

The fingers lost their tips.

When the Sun came up, the electric light dimmed.

I got used to talking to her.

The summer sun sank below the mountains, below the plain, lost from sight.

3.

The Fall moon peeped from behind clouds, drawing the tide, going and coming.

Every Night, Dawn, Morning, Day, Afternoon, Dusk, Evening,

every Cycle of Life.

she came to me, to the house of my youth, slipped into me with an ocean wave,

flickering, feasting, flowing.

I married her blue eyes,

and we all lived lively ever after.

10 minute poem

(For Robert & Juliette)

I must arise and go now
and go beyond the Pale,
and a small forest grow there,
a heart and mind remake.
And I shall have some ease there,
and peace to rest my limbs,
and she will wait upon the seas,
and walk on roots of birch and spruce.
And I shall call her on the wind,
like gull and hawk in sun.

I must clear out this festering way
and take a mountain step
across the lake that’s shaped my view,
and bid my drive farewell.
When oft I rest in thrall of moon,
and bless the hour that’s struck,
you’ll see me stride among the stars
‘mid leaves that paint a life sublime.
I’ll draw my warmth from a fire she’ll set,
and crack a bottle of wine.

_____________________

Note: This poem was originally composed in 10 minutes – while being recited into my iphone. It took a lot longer than that to knock into this shape.

Song of the Wandering Fog

Song of the Wandering Fog

If you go out in the fog today, you’re not sure of a great surprise.

If you go out in the fog any day, you may not be sure you’re wise.

For everywhere you go through fog

is bound to be confusing,

and everything that’s bemusing you

means a well of anxiety.

I can’t go out in the sun today, nor under a sky that’s blue,

I can’t go out in my favourite air

nor go forward without a care.

As I go out in the fog again, I know I’ll never be sure

when I’ll bash my head on a wall

because fog is obscure and means unsure,

and can even drum up fear.

When I am out in the fog right now, I’m in touch with reality.

When fog is thick and hard to cross,

I’m sure I am not free to act

in charge of my destiny.

When you go out in the fog next time be sure to celebrate.

You’re bound to get lost,

you’re bound to be tossed

into a new divide.

Should you go left or should you go right?

Should you go back or should you press on

when you don’t know where you’re going?

There’s only one way to decide.

Are you ready to be safe and sure to save face,

and what did you do last time?

How strong are your arms, your legs and your heart

’cause they here to help you start,

to welcome the dark,

shake hands with the gloom,

and muddle your way towards a rising moon.

You’re born with a light that shines

from an undergrowth

and you’re never alone in a vacuum.

No fog can extinguish your will to adventure.

Now where shall we go today?

Over-achiever

harlequin-ichthyosis-250x150
Overachiever

The sun overachieved

when she provided light, warmth, direction, security and reassurance

to the solar system.

 

The moon overachieved

when it reflected, drew tides, cast shadows and fed poets

mottled metaphors.

 

The stars overachieved

when they gave Hollywood a reputation, grains of sand a run for their money,

and inspired the search for Graham’s number.

 

There’s a woman with blond hair, tall, blue eyes, imagination of a harlequin,

and an inclination to call herself

overachiever.