Night moon

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"View from Bob's bed"

Inspired by the moon

I've been traveling a lot the last few weeks and the moon has come with me. I feel it over my shoulder. I'll wake up in the middle of the night, open my eyes and it will be peering through my window. I'll sit down for dinner and it will watch me between the sliver of sky between two of New York's taller buildings. So, Moon, this poem is for you...

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My Moon

Omnipresent moon--
A spy with no speech.
Blatantly follow.
Beckon our faces.
Illuminate thoughts.
Implore the truth,
On this night of lies.

Damn you, moon.
In your gaze revealed,
Confessions now known.
Penetrate our porous layer
With your stare.
Cringe of guilt.
Mark to see.
Like the powdery circles
On your cheeks and mine--
Ashen rouge of deceit.

If untrue to you,
In truth we cannot be.

Oh moon, you live
In the limbs of trees,
Between brick and steel,
Reflected on water,
And mirrored in glass…
To find me.
To judge me.

Tonight, moon,
Just you and I.
Ride on my shoulder.
Look into my eyes.
Hear my words—
Especially when I howl—
But say nothing in return.
Nothing you say
Can ever be heard…
I know.

Oh trusted moon,
Keep my secrets.

To you, moon, I am true.
Should ever there be a night
When I cannot reflect your light,
I will make it up to you.
For I know your secret…

Woe is the bright moon
With too few waves to inspire.

My Moon

Woe is the bright moon with too few waves to inspire.

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Lonely Man's Spot?

Standing in the kitchen waiting for my tea to steep Saturday morning a phrase entered my head, "careless in the face of opportunity." That phrase prompted the origin of the following poem reflecting the state of two people: one holding onto a dream that's never been shared with the other, and this same "other" who hasn't ever recognized (or acknowledged) the dream.

Image by ecstaticist via FlickrSoul gets high
Promise in verbs.
World between
She said, he heard.

Never to be
Bored when free.
Right of way
In the lee.

Many routes
Selection none.
Somewhere lives
The right one.

Fire's slight.
Liquid's might.
Head full of...
Needs this night.

Silent moods
Never to see
Ticking unto
Time of we.

Abandoned clench
This one dream
Lonely man's spot
Naked moonbeam.