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Poetry Corner: MOONRISING

Introducing a new series of poems by Julian Matthews. Julian is a writer and Pushcart-nominated poet published in The American Journal of Poetry, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Borderless Journal, Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Dream Catcher Magazine,  Live Encounters Magazine, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and The New Verse News, among others. He is a mixed-race minority from Malaysia and lived in Ipoh for seven years. Currently based in Petaling Jaya, he is a media trainer and consultant for senior management of multinationals on Effective Media Relations, Social Media and Crisis Communications. He was formerly a journalist with The Star and Nikkei Business Publications Inc


By Julian Matthews

12 men stepped on you
Bounced around a bit
Planted some flags
Stole some rocks
Then left you
For 51 years

In the interim you pulled away
The length of an average basketballer
An inch and half yearly, a quiet escape, perhaps
(backstepping for the three-pointer?)
A slow imperceptible receding into the abyss of space
Until one night we looked up
And you were gone

No reality TV reveal moment
No walk of shame, nor boardroom firing
No golden buzzer, nor syncing spinning chairs
No early Cowell X, nehhhttt, mid-performance

Only a stilling of the oceans,
no longer lapping shores, or hearts, in waves
Our earth-bound narcissism wobbling in shame
Reducing you to a mere selfie-bomber
The climate change chaos we ignited
Now an explosive, lunarless reality

You grew tired of all the odes, the songs, the poems, the art
Pin-cushioning your wrinkled visage, framing you on walls,
strong-arming your likeness in musty galleries
So many merciless, misogynistic metaphors,
strident sterile similes, lock and cock clichés
like darts missing targets, a bull’s eye
for dodgy, “broken hearts”

You left us–
Because you had had enough and needed to go
Clear your headspace, so to speak
Social distancing against a virulent human race
Putting necessary boundaries on the universe’s growing menace:
those ungrateful billionaires and their outsized egos
Turning your face, neither gracefully nor gently,
to the stars, your dark side mooning us
(You always were a badass!
We just never knew it)

First published by Spillwords Press, USA.

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