darkness plays with clouds
hint at full moon
Who needs Macy’s? For weeks, the neighborhood has been in full fireworks mode, with displays launching from both sidewalks and the rooftops of at least 5 surrounding buildings. Last night they were still going off at 5am. Strangely, I’ve learned to sleep (mostly) through them.
So the moon had to compete with both on and off cloudcover and the rocket’s red glare…
I wonder if it will be quiet tonight…(not really…this will go on for a few more weeks I’m sure…it hasn’t been this noisy in June and July since the 70s)
For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge, buck moon.
hidden under flowered fields
waiting for the moon
For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge.
The moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds last night.
we are try
-ing to breathe, desperate
for clean air
-ed by greed, ego, exploit
the moon does
not belong to you–
to the night
sky, the cycle of light re
-turning from the dark
beyond your indifference, your
vainglory, your lies
For the NaPoWriMo day 7 prompt, a poem based on a news article. You can find the news story I used here. I took the photo, above, out my window at dusk last night.
The art is inspired once again by Matisse. And Los Lobos, with a great video rendition of Kiko.
I hold out
my hands and wait for
the moon to
close my eyes to balance on
the edge of the light
myself, quiet the
the colors beyond darkness–
depths turned inside out
Shadorma for Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday words, give and shake. Photos are of last night’s full moon as seen from the sidewalk in front of where I live.
Also linking to OLN at dVerse, hosted by Grace.
the marrow of the moon as
it rises singing
For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge #116, cold moon.
I borrowed the painting by Marianne von Werfkin that Jane used to illustrate her moon gogyohka as inspiration for my collage.
I stand at my back window near midnight. The night is cloudy, but still I’m hoping to catch a glimpse of the full October Hunter’s Moon.
I will not be using its light to search for my winter’s food store. So what am I seeking? What will nourish me in the coming months of short days and long nights?
tell me what I see–
moon appears complete, sudden,
clouds glowing colors
wings against golden black
catch omens, rise, then fly
Every two weeks The Ekphrastic Review has a writing challenge. I usually enter, and always plan to do a collage for the selected work and publish my poem, even if it isn’t chosen. Of course I don’t actually often have the time. But Jane Dougherty’s repetition of Dale Patterson’s artwork, with 3 of her poems, spurred me to do my collage and revise my poem, which I wasn’t satisfied with. It fit right into Frank Tassone’s “Hunter’s Moon” prompt. Were you lucky enough to see it?
You can see Jane’s poems here. And those selected by guest editor Jordan Trethewey, at The Ekphrastic Review, here.
night wears luminous
scales—I feel its pulses through
time resolves into kinship–
everything opened, laid bare
what has been follows
like a shadow, until it
too is discarded
stitched into shining patterns
ancient and always brand new
A double tanka in honor of August’s Sturgeon Moon for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday words, light and dark, and Frank Tassone’s #HaikiChallenge. Also called the Red Moon, perhaps the sky will clear enough tonight so I can see it.
As many have noted, the sturgeon is an ancient and endangered species. I was please to find we have our own Hudson River sturgeons, still hanging on. Fishing for them was banned in 1996.
The sky is a mist of blue ghosts rising from the sea. The sky is a blanket of sparkling light that appears suddenly as if conjured by the fading horizon. The sky is a layered curtain of shadow clouds that both disguise and reveal.
I sit without time, listening, watching. My body retreats from itself, my thoughts lose their words. I am lost, dispersed, nameless.
I become like the wind, seeking its reflection. I become like waves repeating their primal dance. I become like sand searching for the spaces between.
I float, a grain inside my eye.
I dreamt I was the moon, a sudden seizure of oceans traveling the spirals of shells. I dreamt I was a relic from the sea, worn away into a celebration of return. I became my ancestors, unburied and uncontained, released into the sanctuary of the cosmic coil.
Sarah at dVerse has given us the prosery prompt “I dreamt I was the moon”, from Alice Oswald’s “Full Moon”. I was lucky to be in North Carolina at the beach last week, where the moon was spectacular. 144 words and a few of my photos can’t even begin to capture the magic.