Full moon
Bright and shining like a brilliant reminder of all the mistakes I've made in my life. Seems like after Scott, the moon will always feel like a cool and burning symbol of what was and now is lost.
(Too bad it comes once a month.)
Reminded me of my favorite Philip Larkin poem that I read in a college poetry class. Reading it again makes me yearn for a muse to write about, something to inspire me, as I lately have felt so uninspired.
Sad Steps
Philip Larkin
Groping back to bed after a piss
I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
Four o'clock: wedge-shaped gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through the clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
High and preposterous and separate-
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.
(Too bad it comes once a month.)
Reminded me of my favorite Philip Larkin poem that I read in a college poetry class. Reading it again makes me yearn for a muse to write about, something to inspire me, as I lately have felt so uninspired.
Sad Steps
Philip Larkin
Groping back to bed after a piss
I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
Four o'clock: wedge-shaped gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through the clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
High and preposterous and separate-
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.