moon susurrations

Moon susurrations:
embroidery of the night;
soaking through the
somnolent surface of the lake
and your eyes.

Stars never become obsolete,
though die they must.
But I believe they
go on singing
a diamond-song
in our souls.

And those who mourn
the holes left in the sky
can find what they seek
by knowing me, by
knowing you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The inspiration for this poem came to me in an interesting form: desperation.
I've been babysitting my next door neighbour twice a week for the past two months; I'm done now and am beyond relieved since I'm not fond of babysitting. He's an easy kid to babysit, thank goodness, but he has an annoying habit of watching my least favourite cartoons repeatedly. One afternoon while watching an inane cartoon, I could feel my IQ slowly dwindling; I knew I had to do something... and fast. I pulled out my phone, opened a new text and, with little thought beforehand, wrote this poem. I attribute the fact I used several big words to an attempt at deflecting the stupidity blaring from the television. I'd say that's the best use I've ever gotten out of my phone! (I just don't have that inseparable bond with my phone that most of my generation has.)

This poem gave me hope that I still have some inspiration rattling around inside somewhere, and who knows what will trigger it!


In other news, it's almost November! Is anyone participating in National November Writing Month (AKA NaNoWriMo)? I've been planning to do it ever since I found out about it too late last year, but sadly, it's not to be... Not this year, at least.

First of all, I'm already working with serious intent on this novel, and secondly, I've been asked by a family friend to write a script combining Louisa May Alcott's book Eight Cousins and its sequel Rose in Bloom. I was completely gobsmacked when she asked. Such a thing never crossed my mind! I had to consider it a while before giving an answer; but I admit, I knew all along I would say yes.
So far, I've only been re-reading the books, writing notes, and also struggling with the fear it will turn out horribly. I've been in enough plays over the years to know a lot about scripts. But writing one? Scary!
Still, this is my first real comission and if it turns out well, I will not only get paid for it, but also, in all likelihood, get to see it performed! (This family friend has directed several plays as a part of the theater organization I'm a part of.)

I want to start actually writing it soon, and since I'm already working on my novel, spending the month of November writing an entirely new work seems like a bad idea. As much as I want to do it, I know it could only end with me pulling my hair out. (And I rather love my hair, so you can see why this would be tragic. :P)


Next year, though! Next year!


{Painting is 'Sisters of the Fertile Moon' by Cyn McCurry.}

Dangling My Legs Off the Moon

I am going to do something radical today.
Something that I may regret.

....Are you ready? ;)

Okay. Last summer I wrote a poem-of-sorts that I call "Dangling My Legs Off the Moon". I wrote it after going to one of the Planetarium shows at the Creation Museum in KY.
I have always been rather creeped out by outer space but this show was just so amazing. It took you on an in depth tour through the solar system and... wow. It was absolutely incredible. (It definitely served as a reminder of how small we are and how big God is!) The show was also very calming and it made me feel that I was sitting on the moon and observing the galaxy. (Hence the poem.)

And now for the part I may regret...
I turned my poem (Dangling My Legs Off the Moon) into a song. I've only written a handful of songs though I've improvised many instrumental pieces on the piano. But I forget them as soon as the last note dies away. (A fact which causes me more than a little bit of sorrow.)
Sometimes, though, I will take one of my poems and sit down at the piano with a blank piece of sheet music and a pencil expressly with the purpose of writing a song. One song can take months though, since I'm only comfortable doing it when I am home alone which rarely happens these days.

I have been debating for quite some time whether or not to post this song. I vacillated, arguing that "no one wants to hear my stupid little song" and "couldn't I just post the poem without the recording?"
"No," I chided myself, "the poem and the melody now belong together and you cannot separate them."
So, today I am finally throwing caution to the winds and posting it. I may be filled with regret since I have grave insecurities about the whole thing... but if I do not post my little song, which I am rather fond of, it will languish on my hard drive. What a terrible fate!


But first I must apologize for all the things wrong with the recording.
1. The sound isn't great. I use a microphone that's in my laptop and I just place the laptop on top of the piano. So it's very poor sound quality, to say the least.
2. My vocals aren't great either (not to mention my enunciation!). Sitting down isn't the best position to sing from. And while I no longer cringe when I hear my voice in recordings I find no beauty in it so, yeah....
3. In the second to last stanza I sing the word "And" when it should have been the word "But". (I can't even get my own lyrics right! Sheesh! :P) I make other mistakes as well, in my piano playing but I won't go into those right now.

Alright... enough self-deprecation. Here we go.




Dangling my legs off the side of the moon
I am dangling my legs off the side…

I've never known a silence as quiet as this
I've never known such misty intensity

Against a purple velvet sky stars group together
In sequined clusters twinkling, twinkling
They’re not so little as we sing

I’m infinitely small
In these galactic realms
And I don’t feel hollow or alone
As I thought I would

Lighthearted and free
I sit and I swing
My dangling legs off the moon




{Aren't nebulae so stunning? I realized that's what I was describing in the 2nd and 3rd stanza of my poem.}



{Picture found here.}

{the night of my grandmother's party}

Silently, I sat at the table.
My left-hand neighbor had gone. My right-hand neighbor chatted gaily to her right-hand neighbor about places I'd never been.
The people across from me were happily engaged in a conversation that I could have joined but I had no desire to.
I looked around the capacious tent that held all the people talking and laughing. So many people... I wished they would all go home so I could have peace.
I sat dully, listening to the chatter.
Darkness enclosed the tent. It seemed like a friendly dark... a dark that was beckoning me...!
Without a second thought I stood up, with one object in mind: to escape.
Doubting anyone would notice me leave or give much thought to it, I made my way outside.

I looked back at the lighted tent, happy with the knowledge no one would miss me.
I stepped further into the darkness. Childishly, I jumped through the tree that was divided in the middle so that its shape resembled a giant "Y".

Down the garden path I walked. The ground was cold and damp beneath my bare feet. {I had abandoned my shoes long ago.}
I walked to the garden's edge where trees, bushes, and vines formed a thick bramble. There I stopped.
Though still in view of the lighted tent, no one could see me.
Staring up into the dark sky, which was punctuated by a full moon, I felt a pleasing sense of solitude slip over me.
The beauty of the night, the joy of seclusion, and the romance of the outdoors intoxicated me. An inspirational emotion washed over me... filling me with the need to write or sing!
Since I had neither pen nor paper, I started to softly sing.
The songs were sad but I sang them because I was happy.
Only the trees heard me and the night hid me from prosaic eyes.

Eventually, I knew I had to go back.
With a regretful sigh, I gathered my skirts and made my way back to the noise and brightness.{Making sure to jump through the "Y" tree again.}
Quietly, I resumed my seat at the table. But I felt different. I felt exhilarated after my impulsive excursion. I even successfully made conversational efforts. I smiled and talked late into the night.
Though in the back of my mind, I still was blissfully singing in the darkness, immeasurable happy.


{Painting: "The Girl Under the Magic Moon" by Darren Daz Cox.}