Peter (my bf) flew away early this morning,
like Shakespear’s eagle, “leaving no tracks.”
Now I lay here, as a leftover or Millais’ drowned ‘Ophelia.’
That’s an image ripped from adolescent, female visual culture.
Time‘s adversarial magic drags us ever future-wise,
eroding sweet moments we would cling to.
Shall we poetize?
I want a quiet afternoon,
on the bright side of the moon.
It’s an actual-factual place,
convenient, in close outer space,
like mythical Elysium, Shangri-La or Valhalla
where I’d still be intertwined with my fella,
like characters from literature or legend.
A place where “I’ll get to it tomorrow,”
is, alas, an everlasting pass,
because on the dusty, unreeling moon,
tomorrow never arrives,
our lovers never have to go,
and we can relax, scantily clothed,
simply enjoying the everlasting earthrise.
.
.
Songs for this:
To The Moon by Meghan Trainor
Moon River by Frank Ocean
reprise
of red planet’s
earthrise
abode
of astronaut’s ~
cock crowed
absurd
her thumb conjures
woke bird
4/1/2021
Finding Your Musette 2
Sponsor: Joseph May
Photo #2
Earthrise,
from our moon home
it goes high o'er our sky,
all the way to the other end,
then it becomes our earthset, for it is
night-time and we moonist people,
tucked in our floating beds
will wake-up to
earthrise.
2019 September 28
Astronaut William Anders's space photo,
Onboard Apollo 8 on Christmas Eve,
Nineteen sixty-eight, a bit of a show,
Influence nature, world-renown to be,
Taken with the moon as in the foreground,
And then with the earth as in the background.
2019 September 27
howmanysyllables
6 lines x 10 syllables = a perfect 60 syllables
ababcc
Dad is in the garden tending to his turnips,
He’s almost hidden by a tall crop of Sunflowers;
I imagine the large yellow heliotropes
turning toward an invisible moon like satellite dishes.
I was watching the Apollo 8 mission.
Mum was grumbling that ‘she was sick of turnips’.
Back then, our T.V. signal came in black and white.
Dad came back-in and switched the set to a soccer match.
When the Ander’s color photograph of ‘Earthrise’
made the cover of ‘Life’ magazine,
I dreamt that the turnips began to cry;
they vowed to each other, ‘that they would never
leave this wonderful planet again’.
Who knew they were an alien vegetable?
Later in life, William Anders (astronaut and baptized Catholic),
declared that the world did not revolve around the Pope!
I always meant to write to him about the turnips,
but he probably knew anyway.
Earthrise seen from space
Swirling blues and whites in peace
If they only knew