Stardust, Hope and Longnecks
for LD
I just read, to a friend today,
a poem about dust on the moon.
Funny thing is, and he'd even say,
a particle of that is in my room!
No, really. Believe me, i'm not lying.
The fodder of astronauts' is here, and beer!
Right here, by the wine bottle and the dead pipe,
in the basement where he showed no fear.
~Chicago Dyke
Picture found here.
Scrying on the Moon
ReplyDeleteBy sibylline light
appear images I recognize,
creviced captures of my life.
I know her judgment to be my own.
"Nourished by Moon rivers
mythical cavern blooms
unseen by sunlight
glow green." Thus she sets the scene;
becomes the prophecy.
"Purest white simplicity
curved to suggest fragility
faith fed maiden ready for
plucking,
given in bondage to womanly woes,
hard rows to hoe
for that little bit of hug through
crying of night.
Fate of Trojan soldiers, sacrificed to lust.
Unbended, beg for the boon of drama
high adventure
sneaking into sad hotels
for a fix or a tumble.
Laughs,
deadly play,
danger, a real chance.
Barefoot in the snow
icy roads
winds so strong
I could not make you hear.
I thought you were my destiny.
These thoughts are far from clear;
but I believed
song lyrics from somber deities
would not lie, leave me
dying, fading into winter's grey
drifting clouds,
endless sorrow endured for naught.
Lost on this careless corner,
dreaming of oblivion, intent on visions
like rain
tapping against eternity's
vast windowpane.
Scenic serenity.
Nature's gradations of green
soothes tired eyes,
trembling nerves, throbbing veins.
Slivers of moonlight reflect
in withered refrains, unearth secrets
embedded in song
effervescing through cool pure air
cleansing the uprising nestling
set aflame
resurrected
tempered mettle,
pure, wise, tested
engorged with the will
to rise"