moon work and the loss of it

that was the way to explain it perhaps -
the loss of it - the build up to the
moment - the peaks of pleasure
and then the sudden and intense
drop back to the lunar surface to
inhabit his own skin and see
the reality seeping from the
walls around him and there
are times when even sleep
does not offer solace from
the come down, from the
loss of it - be it Christmas
morning joy or her presence -
and her presents in the present
cause me to falter and stumble
(like shirts that are not needed)
down there in the real world as
(everyone has more than 2 shirts)
i try to somehow explain that even
though i am from the moon, i am
good to have around.

although like the moon maybe i seem
to be somehow unreal - so far away i feel
somehow not genuine? and i reel and
sway back and forth in my mind as i
am transported back to the moon
for work - to toil - perhaps simply
a clone that has not yet been told
why i was created - solely for work.
(the seams of my existence unfolding)

and maybe it's the intense manner
in which i can picture myself shuffling
back and forth over the surface of the
moon, toiling in moon soil, trying to
fathom the reasons for my existence
and the insistence that i'm somehow
special or gifted - the soiled nature of
my soul turns the quest into simply a
cold and grey pattern of foot prints
across a barren rock beautiful from afar.

and the words pile up but yet i'm not
really saying anything - painting these
dull pictures of moon work in my mind
- all the time - all the times passed so
quickly - experiencing the loss of it
over and over again... does anyone
remember the moon when it is not
around?

but maybe that's it - the recognition
that the loss of it is just opening up
the possibility of another build-up
so intense. but the loss of her
presence, memories of her
in the future tense...

and the moon is my sanctuary
where the words can somehow
explain the feelings and moods,
and these countless rooms in
my mind allow me to pass the time
in between those moments that are
meant to be
forever transcribed in memory to be enjoyed
at later dates. what some people would
maybe call
normal life.

and time is my puddle to jump in and create ripples

time to get back to making music with words as
dollar bills fly out of the keyboard almost magically,
the power of duplication - numerous doors opening
and the pure wonder of working on the moon being
remembered. but also the loneliness. the isolation,
the need to live outside the timeline to be able to
function at this level - to be able to do the great
things that need to be done. all these come
back to me, but as i wake up back up here,
hanging in the sky, looking down at her in
her world - the earth - i experience the
loss of it, which is both good and
bad. perhaps it's the pessimist
in me that insists it's the end
of another moment together
instead of seeing it as one
more set of shared or
collective memories
that we now have
with each other.
and it is a good
thing for me to
sometimes head
back to planet earth
and remind myself that
i'm human - that there's a
reason i'm doing all this lonely
work up here on the moon - there
is a reason and the season will change
and eventually the seasoning of my life will be
to my liking as i find what i've been so cluelessly
searching for all this time. the title perhaps a little
misleading because there's no loss of moon work,
never any loss of that. but this is a good thing maybe.

in fact, sometimes it's all in how you look at things.

there is so much goodness and the loss of it is real,
but the fact that it exists so far up here on the moon
should be enough to last me a lifetime and then
some. one more moment, one more line, i try
to drag it out unreasonably, perhaps ruining
the entire poem - or the goodness around
me - so for now, a return to what i know
well, a return to what i am capable of
in isolation on the moon with nothing
but time and work before me - the
longing of a normal life on earth
will always be there and maybe
some day i'll get there, but for
now, a return to moonbase
to await my next visit. the
earth and her wonders
are always there in my
sky, in my mind, but
work must conti-
nue like the
continents
formed or
the moon
as it was
eventually
explored.

problems packaged up and placed appropriately
as work commences as the persistence of time.

please note that much of the intended
meaning and messages in this missive
may have been misplaced as ones or
zeros were lost on their long journey
back to earth to end up on the internet.
sorry about that ---- kpaul the moon poet