Sunday, July 7, 2013

Moonstruck



The moon opens
his laughing Buddha mouth,
pumps me full
of tides and sky.

Dreams from a cratered bowl,
gold and overgrown,
swim circles
of unrequited sleep.

I paddle tree-lined,
camera-shy
desirous of secret rivers,
ungrounded culverts.

At dawn, he holds a up a mirror.
I look just like him
round-faced,
crescent-eyed.


tk/July 2013


This poem was expertly read by R.A.D. Stainforth. 

Supermoon 2013, Julio Cortez, AP 

23 comments:

  1. The thunk in the video is just Amy the cat jumping from the top of the kitchen cabinets...no worries...not a prowler...

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  2. nice - I especially like the moon's "laughing Buddha mouth"

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  3. I think this is my favorite poem you've written so far. Long time love affair with the moon. Totally relate to being pumped full of tides and sky. Especially in October.

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  4. Jeez Louise! Insomnia has never sounded so good! Good one here, Tess!

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  5. The moon pumps us all full of tides and sky. Beautifully written...

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  6. Another masterpiece, and another classic read from Mr RADS.

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  7. Your talent keeps rising.. laughing like Buddha mouth!

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  8. Buddha as the moon, cool, like it a lot Tess , so ethereal , cheers

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  9. Great job- tides and sky and looking just like him!

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  10. This is awesome. I LOVE the first stanza... the last too! I can SEE it!

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  11. .. 'the moon opens his laughing Buddha mouth' ~~ sets the tone for every line that follows ~ delightful.

    Thanks for the noise warning..I fully expected to learn it was a shattered crystal ashtray.

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  12. the first stanza was just amazing..a lovely write and the reading really brings in a sense of mystery.

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  13. The dramatic reading most certainly enhanced this presentation.

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  14. You have a talent of showing romance in corners one wouldn't think of!

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  15. A magical moon gives good reason not to fall asleep. Beautiful images, Tess.

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    Replies
    1. Yay, I forgot to sign my name. :-)

      ~Imelda

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  16. "unrequited sleep"
    Love it!

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)