Sing as you cross the dark. Float as you breathe.
This the beginning, testing speakers,
waiting out the thirsty and the distracted.
Before the guide passes out 'space food.'
Before the guide begins the song.
This the beginning, testing speakers,
waiting out the thirsty and the distracted.
Before the guide passes out 'space food.'
Before the guide begins the song.
Cheese from the mares that swim in the moon
Dry as the ice shaved into our monsoon.
Dry as the ice shaved into our monsoon.
Space, mother, planet, intelligent life, air--
we came from the bottom of the driest ocean
and lived on its lithic memory
until our disabsolution, until we drowned dry
to find the crest of the waves.
we came from the bottom of the driest ocean
and lived on its lithic memory
until our disabsolution, until we drowned dry
to find the crest of the waves.
The word was given to me
before my breathing instructions,
before the glass was tested and polished,
before they cut down the first material
to museum standard and the fittings began.
before my breathing instructions,
before the glass was tested and polished,
before they cut down the first material
to museum standard and the fittings began.
The microphone shivers the dark;
they are explaining learning to swim.
When I couldn't, they said
"We have a box for you.
You can be the first eyes looking up.
You can be the landing in the water,
the sinking to buoyancy,
the first bead from the capsule."
Sing as you cross the dark. Float as you breathe.
Hope that everyone who celebrated this week had a good holiday and welcome to another response to The Sunday Muse's prompt. I was, this week, struck by the malaise of 2020. I'm celebrating a minor NaNo victory and avoiding hanging holiday lights; listening to Merlin snore and thinking that sleep is a good thing, maybe, for other people. I should not write codas when I'm on the edgy side of tired. I should not think about coffee right now. But there are scones. Perhaps when my skills are such that I can extract the scones without waking the dogs, I will be at the level to contemplate midnight caffeine.
 |
| You will never outsneak the ears, Mom. |
-- Chrissa
"until we drowned dry"
ReplyDeleteSurely stopped me in my tracs with that phrase
Happy Sunday Chrissa
(✿◠‿◠)
much love...
Powerful and chilling visions here,very suitable to midnight codas and the long malaise of isolation and uncertainty on which we float as we try to breathe. Last stanza is perfect, and disturbing.
ReplyDeleteWow this is eirie and supperb all rolled into one! I love " Until we drowned dry to find the crest of waves" and the vision of being the first bead of the capsule! This leads me to wanting more! Magnificent writing my friend! I knew you would do great with NaNo! I hope to hear more about it at Word Crafters! By the way, little Merlin is absolutely adorable!!
ReplyDeleteSuch high fantasy, myth, or just truth is stranger than fiction.
ReplyDeleteSuper very cool. I love the layers, the float of meaning between words and lines and stanzas. "Sing as you cross the dark" - I want to keep that with me day by day, remember how to keep good cheer while we head into the unknown. And these orthogonal lines: "before they / cut down the first material / to museum standard and the fittings began" throwing us off balance, sending the capsule tumbling end-over-end.
ReplyDeleteYour dogs are so adorable. And this poem, I like it very much, especially your repeated lines.
ReplyDeleteSuch an imaginative and create write!
ReplyDeleteThe beginning and ending read like a spell. I found myself taking a deep breath and exhaling when I was done. Wonderful use of repetition.
ReplyDelete'disabsolution' ~ can we hope to be absolved of original sin / guilt ... doomed to drowning over and over? Questions I asked myself (a piss-poor swimmer) as I read your poem over and over again. You deserve a million followers. (I love your dog.)
ReplyDeleteI wonder about how great the transgression must have been to cause forgiveness to be rescinded and necessitate such a voyage. There are some things you can never come back from, so you go the only direction you can, forward.
ReplyDeleteCoffee and scones counteract the negative qualities of each other so they have my approval!
ReplyDeletethis looks like the first manned landing on the moon. well, they did landed on the Sea of Tranquility.
ReplyDeleteawesome imagery, as usual.
This was enjoyable for me. I also learned a new word, disabsolution. I enjoyed your opening, "Sing as you cross the dark." and was surprised to see it again, appropriately perched there. After I dropped out of my first college attempt, my rented room was about a city mile away from work or the college, ???. Anyway I often walked in the dark, crossing the railrod track part of town, Lincoln, Nebraska, so I would sing my way home. Scared every time.
ReplyDelete..
Chrissa, I forgot to say thank you for your neat prompt picture today. Thank You. It was a fun write but I didn't get the ending that my subject deserved.
DeleteYou can be the landing in the water,
ReplyDeletethe sinking to buoyancy,
the first bead from the capsule
If one is lucky that is! One can't be sure these days!
Hank
An evocative, haunting piece – hopeful, sad and scary all at the same time. I particularly love the phrase, 'Sing as you cross the dark.' Not only for the deep space image it conjures up. There are many darks we have crossed, nearer to home, this last year; good if we can keep singing.
ReplyDeleteDark travel with bits of light. I think we are all feeling like aliens on a planet much changed from what we've always known. I feel this one.
ReplyDeleteA powerful write. I love your dogs.
ReplyDelete"Cheese from the mares that swim in the moon
ReplyDeleteDry as the ice shaved into our monsoon."
Love those lines!