by

Poetry: The Man in the Moon

time—
visions confuse night
with day again

sometimes I wander in circles
my eyes tracking the empty 
black sky, looking and looking
for your white glowing face
etched by night’s ancient magic
—are you even really there?

whipping backward into myself
there’s nothing and nobody
to blame as these
too empty white walls
keep screaming your name
so loud it vibrates
every swollen trapped cell

moon—
twisted hour hand
turns slowly south

when you see my eyes 
staring at your lunar ones
be not afraid you did
anything wrong, for I’m simply 
searching for cosmic answers
—can dark transform into light?

drawing with chalk along
sidewalks, chins, knee caps
caught in seclusion’s trap  
winding around and around
my neck until breath
stutters while tiny hairs
dance along wobbly legs 

isolation—
you stopped time
I started it

blue, green twisting, and wild
maybe you, moon man, can
turn madness and untethered chaos
into an endless bright sea
—do dark craters harbor truth?

dreams used to contain
promises of another tomorrow
and another, but suffocation
robs rainbows their colorful
transformative effect until diving
underground to cool tunnels
relief comes as sound
without him here to dance

*Last weekend I saw the new film “Moonage Daydream.” This poem is my response and tribute to my favorite artist of all time and creative muse, David Bowie. The artwork was created by me.

46 thoughts on “Poetry: The Man in the Moon”

    • It’s a mix of collage and acrylic paint. I’m not a visual artist, but I wanted something to go with words that sort of hinted at the themes I saw in the Bowie film. I’m glad you like it!

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  11. A beautifully written poem, Bridgette. I loved the imagery of your words. As for the picture, it’s gorgeous and very captivating. I was going to ask how you made it, but then I saw that another of your readers asked this question, too, so now I know. Very clever. I loved David Bowie, as well. He is sadly missed in today’s world of music (not saying that today’s music is bad, of course). RIP gentle man. Xx 💜💕😘

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  13. So lovely, Bridgette. The collage against the blue wash of paint so perfectly complements the mood of the poem with its ruminations, its yearning to go beyond and yet remain in time, to recapture or escape “seclusion’s trap.” After your comments on what inspired your poem, it’s easy to see how Bowie was your inspiration. He had that quality, didn’t he, of someone outside time trapped within it, very present and aware of the moment, yet somehow, “moon man.”

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    • Thank you so much for this very thoughtful comment. It’s hard to separate Bowie from the moon. He was indeed both otherworldly and yet grounded in the here and now. I’m attempting to find ways to ground myself as I sometimes spin off and can’t quite make my way back.

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