“They say the sun is sometimes eclipsed by a moon”

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“Event” © C.P. Hickey 2017

 

“It’s no secret that the stars are falling from the sky
It’s no secret that our world is in darkness tonight
They say the sun is sometimes eclipsed by a moon…”_The Fly-U2 Achtung Baby

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“Friscalating Moonlight”

Similar to poem 19, poem 20 harkens back to my past. I offer deep appreciation to my greatest muse and partner, Lissette. We share love, laughs, tears, successes, failures, hopes, fears, and all that comes to us under a sun eclipsed by a moon. Wes Anderson’s character Eli Cash spoke the word that inspired this poem, and although it isn’t a real word, what this poem presupposes…maybe it is.

“Friscalating Moonlight”_originally conceived on 6-21-05

The moon knows what to make of this,

for I know not.

It hovers in the heavens,

guiding confused couples through life.

A labyrinth of passions,

dead ends,

and darkened roads.

Illuminating possibilities, chances, and hopes.

Friscalating.

How it mocks me.

How it laughs at held notions of propriety.

 

“You mortal fool,

can’t you recognize perfection?”

 

Beams directing me to embrace her.

Searching for expression.

Tender silhouette,

stretching against the night.

Remove the hair from her eyes,

and stare into bliss.

 

One moment stolen in the moonlight,

preludes an eternity of satiety.

 

Thankfully, the moon cannot penetrate a roof.

For I know not what to think of other than her,

and in the safety of my hideaway,

the moon can’t mock me.

 

eli

 

“Daddy, will I be forgotten?”

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“Sky is Falling”  © C.P. Hickey 2015

Lying in bed with the kids after story time, and Atticus casually says:
“Daddy, will I be forgotten?”
It hit me like a hammer blow to the gut. I try to comprehend how my little 6 year old boy could harbor such a worry in his heart.
It’s was strange to have the back and forth that followed, and somewhat full of love and grace.
Prior to his question, earlier today, he came to hear Lissette and I talking about the little boy that was killed in Barcelona, in last week’s terror attack.
 
“Daddy, will I be forgotten?”
“Absolutely, not, Atty, that’s why we named you Atticus. And your sister Lenore, and your brother Paul. You will have children and grandchildren, and you will never be forgotten.”
 
Heavy lifting on a Sunday Night. More hugs, more cuddles, more kisses.
 
If you know me, then you know how deeply I reflect on mortality. I just never thought it would be something that my 6 year old child would worry about.
 
The kids surprise me everyday.