Tag Archives: moon

pamanner’s take on fear

 

a wonderful friend who recently posted one of my own creations on her website here, has decided to beautify my blog with some of her writing. in her own words, she is “a freelance writer, woman, mom, best friend, daughter, sister, auntie, and niece” and in mine – a star whose blog i’m lucky to have stumbled on!

so without further ado, here is a taster of her writing:   

Fear 

she stood with fluttering in her
chest as ravine feathers floated
down swathing her in shadows
and obscurity 

she knelt with quivering in her 

throat as black tigers paced round 

encircling her with yellowed canines

and peril  
she lay with trembling in her mind
as sable butterflies winged their
way to her alighting on her with
faintest shivers 
then she slept soothed with silver
dreams and fancies flitting over

her bathed in moonbeams 

and transparency

 

© Pamela Rossow –> http://pamanner.wordpress.com

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soar!

soar!
above the mountains, touching rooftops
where dreams are made through Kais and Gerdas of tonight,
their flowers – moondust
eclipsing the broken shells of sky.

i tell you, soar,
as if there was no tomorrow – who knows
if there will be a today.
i see horizon cracking at the edges, burdened with heavy clouds
of rain. cumulative correlation of cumulous clouds.
the very thought is raining on me.

so build your wings, Icarus:
i keep one eye in those clouds to watch over your flight.

as though you might not make it.

the blind spot

interminable
as an endless circle
of coiled nucleic acid strand
without a protein coat
to hide in

so here you are:
i’m naked
like the moon,
causing the tides of your moods,
falling behind
the thick mesh of clouds
and reappearing
as a sliver
after total destruction
of another menstrual lifecycle

and i’ve noticed
you don’t see the moon unless you’re looking for it
or sleeping with your face under the open sky

its coming and going
passes the world silently by

that’s why my whole life
has been about finding
the blind spot
in the lover’s eyes.

79. let me fall into this stupour

why was the moon shining so bright last night? and the night before last. the night before that it was cloudy but still it managed to peek through. and i don’t know what to say to you. i used to moon-watch when i was studying astronomy at school.
let me fall into this stupour. the whites of my eyes will turn into two big moons to shine on the world in the darkest light. for i am sin.
all sin.

and S is catholic.
beyond all means.
and i no longer know if he believes in love, because he believes in so little by believing in so much. if he ever asks, i shall tell him this much: that i no longer know him, because what he was to me is not compatible with what he is now. 

i believe in choice. to me, choice is love.
catholicism is brutal: it gives no choice.
abortion is not an option he told me. what if the pregnancy is the result of rape? i asked. she’d still have to have the child.
my eyes glazed over. i forgot who i was speaking to.

and he’s not sure if he believes in contraception: life hasn’t forced him to think about that yet. how can anybody say that in a world with AIDS?
i’m lost. what does he know of the fire of desire that drives me on and on?

i know sometimes you have to let go and start again, from scratch. but i can’t. not now.
suppose i am Kai, from Hans Christian Andersen’s book, and he is the splinter of troll-mirror that befell into my eye.

how can i run away if it it’s in the mind?

ride the moon and back

you cushion my falls
like a pillow
of finely ground murano glass,
with the voice of rustling leaves in october
crackling and shimmying underfoot.

your glass is my sand of world’s beaches,
where coloured lights we make break the dark,
warmth engulfing the contours of your body,
nectar flowing freely from the cup. 

so know 

it is for you,
i ride the moon and back,
hair flowing on the rising morning tide;
for all the nights you let me cry in the pillow
made from the ground pieces of your heart.

trace of us

we’ll stop tonight
where lights carry a trace of us
and moon shines loftily on bare skin

if only to say goodbye 

we’ll lay in the long grass
just like you wanted
no questions asked
no answers given
and put the cork into the essence of us

although,
it may still feel unfinished somehow
still raw
still paling
in the sunshine of your blackest sun, 

maybe then, under the searching light,
i’ll stop hearing your goodbyes
knowing
you’re listening for my hellos 

a year too late

———————————————–

and there are moments in our lives that lay imprinted behind our eyelids, fluttering with every heartbeat, waiting to escape.
this is one. 
of stars was another.

but…
different people. different lives.

i know. 
circles never end.

this is home

How quietly loves pass you by,
Their names – moonless nights
killing postcoital glow.
/
/
How gravely love moulds to hate
or apathy,
mixing into the summer air,
You,
uttering their names,
holding onto that fire
/
Driving fast,
somewhere past
a streetcar named desire,
Burning through memories
Ash scattering ash
/
And
every
spark
hits
the
pavement
like
a
stone
/
You stop to breathe.
You’re not alone.
/
You know I’m here
And this is home.