It is no bad thing to live a simple life.
What do we think of when we gaze the moon? Do we want to become one or do we wish to sink in its peripheral beauty? What sits under the white big secret of its shine? We are not talking scientifically.. let’s sit and think about it. How gorgeous this moon can make us feel about us or rather anything.
Personally speaking, I want its quietness to stand still and be calm and be there in darkness. We poets are supposed to be melodramatic, ain’t we?
Poetry Corner-
It was not death, for I stood up- Emily Dickinson
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down -
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos - crawl -
Nor Fire - for just my marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool -
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial
Reminded me, of mine -
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some -
When everything that ticked - has stopped -
And space stares - all around -
Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground -
But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -
Without a Chance, or spar -
Or even a Report of Land -
To justify - Despair.
Akira Kosaka
The shapes of leaves- Arthur Sze
Ginkgo, cottonwood, pin oak, sweet gum, tulip tree:
our emotions resemble leaves and alive
to their shapes we are nourished.
Have you felt the expanse and contours of grief
along the edges of a big Norway maple?
Have you winced at the orange flare
searing the curves of a curling dogwood?
I have seen from the air logged islands,
each with a network of branching gravel roads,
and felt a moment of pure anger, aspen gold.
I have seen sandhill cranes moving in an open field,
a single white whooping crane in the flock.
And I have traveled along the contours
of leaves that have no name. Here
where the air is wet and the light is cool,
I feel what others are thinking and do not speak,
I know pleasure in the veins of a sugar maple,
I am living at the edge of a new leaf.
Moon- Amy E. Sklansky
Marvelous
Opaque
Orb.
Night-light
for the world.
A memory of us- Safia Elhillo
when i think of us i think of the lakewater
near longtown, what might not technically
constitute a lake but i prefer that word for
the open mouth of its vowel, how it called
us to its throat & held us there, in the sun,
the high points of our faces slick with light
& its arc around our shoulders, the soft
gathering of flesh around our knees,
the lone chair we found near the shore
where we took turns posing, jutting out
an eloquent hip, cackling in the bright language
of flowers for whom i downloaded an app
& learned their names: beautyberry, yarrow,
cornus florida, black-eyed susan, & you,
& you, my bright hibiscus, my every color
the world is about to end and my grandparents are in love- Kara Jackson
still, living like they orbit one another,
my grandfather, the planet, & grandma, his moon assigned
by some gravitational pull. they have loved long enough
for a working man to retire. grandma says she’s not tired,
she wears her husband like a coat that survives every season,
talks about him the way my parents talk about vinyl—
the subject salvaged by the tent of their tongues.
grandma returns to her love like a hymn, marks it with a color.
when the world ends will it suck the earth of all its love?
will i go taking somebody’s hand,
my skin becoming their skin?
the digital age is taking away our winters,
and i’m afraid the sun is my soulmate,
that waste waits for a wet kiss,
carbon calls me pretty, and i think
death is a good first date.
i hope when the world ends it leaves them be,
spares grandpa and his game,
grandma spinning corn into weight,
the two of them reeling into western
theme songs, the TV louder
than whatever’s coming.
Links of the week-
Curious symbolism of the moon in art and literature
Simple life in the modern world
If you liked reading this newsletter then do share or throw some light for others to read.
Be kind and nice to others.
Until then
Love and Light
Devika