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My original blog - I have moved to http://shannonclark.wordpress.com so this remains only as an archive.
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Searching for the Moon
by Shannon Clark
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Monday, August 19, 2002
Poetry and motion
This weekend was a fairly quiet one, but oddly productive and mostly enjoyable.
Saturday evening I spent the first part of the evening in Wicker Park, but the independant coffeeshops there all close around midnight, so I found myself back at my usual Starbucks (which stays open until 2:00am now - used to be 3:00am and for a very brief time 24 hrs!).
I sat there, read some, and then I actually wrote a bit - two poems as a matter of fact. The first poems I have written in a very long time. So, here they are, for better or worse - probably in need of some further editing (but my poems seem to lose energy and my interest as I try to edit them - guess they either work or don't).
I'm writting at the moment in a very cool leather bound, gold trimmed "executive" notebook that I was given by a vendor for attending a lunch meeting/sales presentation - so cool I actually took an extra so I would have at least one refill (the refills in the future will be $12/ea, but since it is just so cool feeling and functional for me.. may be well worth the slight indulgance)
No titles as of yet.
See me there, yes picture me
sitting, in the window.
A regular, I get the best seats
Coffee at the ready.
Music blaring to a beat only I hear.
Notebook at the ready.
Books pilled up.
I am not a student.
They come and go, saying hello.
I study.
Yes, picture me there and
you will know of the
quiet nights, the long mornings,
the notebooks full but unread, unshared.
Picture me on a cool summer's night
the full moon hovering above the neon
of the city outside.
And then a bit later, I wrote this
Tonight is a night for lovers.
He entered, slightly lost, keys
dangling from his back pocket.
Alone and tired he settled into
the big chair by the silent fireplace.
She entered, circled and from
behind grabbed him.
Awakened, he motioned her to the lip of the fireplace.
They proceed to kiss.
Minutes later, they rested shoulder
to shoulder, unaware as the
couples, two by two, were inspired
around them.
Smiling deeply, with hand held
they skipped out into the
evening.
A night for lovers,
not for me.
So, two poems more than I have written in a while, but nothing further on my novel - which I really should be writing, and though I had a great weekend in other respects (met a new friend on Sunday, and then hung out and watched the Air and Water show - well just the Air part - for the afternoon with her and an old friend of mine - all in all a good way to pass an afternoon. Then spent the evening in heated philosophical debate with my old friend - all good enjoyable ways to spend a day.)
Hopefully this week will be both enjoyable and productive in my writing and my work (and my reading - been trying to catch up with the pile of unread books at my house, which seems to only be getting bigger as the summer goes on - finished an issue of Granta this weekend - Salmon Rushdie, Richard Ford, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and more all in the same issue - very cool issue, and lots of great stories and essays.)
8/19/2002 12:00:00 PM
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