moon musings.

moon musings.

So… you know, the moon, that thing, in mysterious ways can do mysterious things, some howl, not me, not this soul, but my mind does wander and wonder at it all...

(1)
from pine tar to the bore
forgive me my grace
a bit too comfortable in my grave
on shadow moon
and misty tides
a rider appears
a delivery, a note of handwritten dour
as we prophesied
in this late hour
for the signs all gesticulated in blood
nurtured in the knowledge
that the past has returned.
(2)
with a somewhat lazy eye
climbs upward the ladder
rung by rung up hazy sky
for an obscure moon there
on this late february night
a caged celestial bubble
lost in the pool
cast in the night

thoughts, from the porch…

thoughts, from the porch…

Photo by Alex Andrews on Pexels.com

the moon is in league

and so it descends, frozen invisible prison bars, a brisk cold, hints dropped like falling petals scattered earlier in these past weeks, the crisp bite of fall I called such, but now, full teeth bared gleaming white, the ring leader, the pied piper, reverse reflecting the sun’s light to dominate the sky of night, the stark dearth star, a cold dead desert hypnotizing our hemisphere into submission, sleep… a full moon, of course, conjured up’for hallow’s eve, just as the leaves have been stripped from many trees, that inescapable gaze blazes down on this landscape, no clouds, no shroud to hide in, no, open resistance, a brazen demonstration of barren isolation, Winter; that which slows life like a vice twisting in a thimble, at barely – a – pace, the feel has a beacon, a symbol, a scion, the brightest object in the sky as the world turns cold and colder, twist once more, snow, yes, snow, this morning there was snow, not the type to warm your heart on a christmas morning viewed from a cheery warm window sipping hot cocoa, no, dead falling, falling heavy wet white wolf pelts slapping on the windshield, letting you know the summer you once knew is quite gone, and certainly I did not outfit myself in the proper jacket to deal with this early assault, but no matter, I will not linger here, being stared at, examined, scrutinized, by that dead eye hanging in the sky, the cold isolation, the green of the world has peeled back in reflex, but I was watching, I swear I was watching this time, how did I miss this, the coming loud tide of the cold wave, my breath rises out up into space, drawn up by that nocturnal beaming thief, as I walk I feel the presence of being followed, stalked, tracked across the sky behind my shoulder, just over my shoulder, footstep by footstep by footstep, I notice my feet, the fallen, the fallen leaves are a patchwork quilt, in the day a beautiful sight, but night, now, wet and soaked, dank slippery wetness, the kind where you want to rush inside and peel off your drenched clothes, sit wrapped blanket by a fire, the brand of cold that turns skin blue, the body shrinks back into a shell, yes, the chills, run, run up the spine and through the teeth, chatter, I must devine that my ancestors were not of alpine stock, not if this is my evolved shock, even now, years worn down, years documented on my paycheck to this universe, still, some nights, the moon is a sinister beast, dead reveling in an earthly feast. (and so I retreat, cuddle up with my dog, and sleep)

thoughts… from the porch…

thoughts… from the porch…

silhouette photo of the ocean
Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com

the sky is the portrait of a blaze, moments like these there are colors that are difficult to even explain, like flames of deep reds and purples blending and lurking on the horizon, I might imagine how this all looked as I look back with an ancient eye, clouds, white clouds, like angels racing off to the battle, the blaze, the hordes of the underworld that await, the unearthly glow, for what else could this site be? just some random formation of moisture, a construct of nature, weather conspiring to ignite imagination, why lose the spectacle of this all, indulge in the genesis of how stories unfold and are told in the night sky, but not every night, not every night is the show such as this, not every brilliant magenta hue is seen dancing as the curtains of night unveil,the sprites of streaking white angels dive off into the narrowing event horizon, as that lone beacon rises, only three quarters full but bright as any moon recorded, and before a moment’s breath, the clouds are gone, dipped and passed somewhere out of mortal sight, lost to the lands of kings and gods, seemingly swallowed by the ever motioning night, the grand scheme of color carousel has faded out, just the moon, with a spurious eye, casts light from up on down, a reflection of the sun upon the face, ever looking down from that lonely space, the night watcher compels… sleep.

notes… part of my porch series, the sky just had a certain look, for only a few minutes, I pulled my car over, and the muse planted a seed, and it took, and grew into … this…

a simple little poem, as we all gaze into the night…

a simple little poem, as we all gaze into the night…

reach for the and blue moon neon signages
Photo by Designecologist on Pexels.com

“tell me, tell me of the moon
a paramour
who never moves
closer always
always remains
at a distance
remains always
at arm’s length”

notes… I was listening to this (Cellar Darling – Rebels) and these words popped into my head as they often do, I suppose I was playing with words, and repetition on purpose as we all tend to do the same things so often, myself included, breaking the mold I guess is a habit, one I do not have quite down, quite yet, but I endeavor the goal, I endeavor it so, so I depart in that direction even when sometimes lost…

The sun and the moon…

The sun and the moon…

switched beige table lamp
Photo by 祝 鹤槐 on Pexels.com

I often wonder would I like to live in more primitive times, to be an ancient as it were, the television would be the sky, the logs my corridors, there is an allure to that simple life but perhaps only if you hadn’t dipped that big toe into the now know, but I try to imagine what the sun and moon would mean not knowing the spin cycle that is the reason for their being in motion, sure, the celestial bodies are still a wonder, but imagine seeing these spheres magically appear and change over the course of a year, has the moon lost some luster ? has the sun lost some bright ?  doubtful… just tonight looking up at a cloudy sky, just one note color, but there, a fuzzy diffused bulb just hanging, close one eye and reach up with a hand circle spyglass, and you could almost touch the thing, even knowing in reality only a handful of humans have actually touched moona firma, and that was 50 years ago, half a lifetime these days, perhaps only a third of a lifetime just down the road, so is our wonder gone or just refocused ? does technology and knowledge disconnect  us?  I might imagine what it was like to be the guy (or gal) that figured out how to create fire on demand, the veritable steve jobs of their day, pimping Ifire, bigger Ifire, Ifire portable, but I imagine people got tired of Ifire when the only difference in Ifire 10 was charcoal briquettes, so I suppose, in all this prose, what I might be trying to say, it is all relative, all generations thought they knew the most, think of those that found all the coasts and what a revelation that was in those times, is the feeling the same now when we find a new exoplanet? or is it blase-faire ?  I often find myself sky gazing these days during the day and star gazing the night when the sun is away. and so I muse…

tonight
I find myself standing
among a forest of naked believers
limbs raised in praise
upwards to the heavens
vibrating in the breeze
so I may look there
and agree,
with no roots holding
may I ascend up into the stars
to continue this journey
into the celestial bounty

Music ? how about some space ambient… I listen to this stuff all the time…

Space Ambient Live Channel on Youtube

the moon you know, the moon you don’t…

the moon you know, the moon you don’t…

sky space moon astronomy
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“We ran as if to meet the moon.”
Robert Frost
Do we take the moon for granted?  Our little companion in perfect orbit (synced so close to ours that one side faces us all the time).  Other planets have tons of moons (Saturn has 62!) but our little friend is out just in the right place where we can have full eclipses (that is actually super rare in our little solar system – but not here on water world!)   So my last post was all about musings on the moon (in poem form), so for those with a little nerdy science streak l ask… did you get all the little references? granted some are obvious, I mean we have known this moon our whole lives right?  just curious… so, if you don’t want spoilers read no further, here is all the little tidbits I was thinking about writing that poem…

seven seas ? OK, obvious… Pangea ? OK, not brilliant… master of all seasons ? I was trying to invoke how we take for granted our place in a hemisphere, so the moon could care less, it is the same when the southern hemisphere is in winter or the northern hemisphere is in winter… dead eye’s watch? the moon is quite dead, nothing there… blinks as slow ? I needed some vehicle to explain the phases, so I chose sound witch travels way slower than light, and we see moonlight… born of earthly rock ? I am referencing the theory that the moon is born of a cosmic collision (one of many but I think it makes the most sense, not 100% proven obviously – this is also referenced in the line “twin composition“)… millennia of collision ? pretty obvious, the moon has been bombed by asteroids or other bodies, the evidence is there of a violent past, there was all sorts of stuff flying around the solar system when it was forming, there is still tons of stuff out in the kuiper belt and the oort cloud waiting to make impact at some point… I think the rest of the piece is pretty clear
so anyway, if you made it this far? damn.. thanks for riding down the rabbit hole with me, I appreciate all reads and eyes, and any comments are gladly taken even if you think I am a dumb stump stuck in the mud, I am probably not, but how would I know if I was ?