Comments after poem! Enjoy!
The Moon Diver
(Slight Return)
Beware the doldrums of July,
When whippoorwill and firefly
May make you feel secure at night
With soothing song and glowing light.
In dawns that steam and dusks that sweat,
Moon Diver, he is out there yet,
Polluting dreams with carnal heat,
Convincing wives their husbands cheat
And hissing into jealous ears
The gist of every spouses’ fears
That any wife alone in bed
Would have horns on her husband’s head.
And in the forests through the trees,
His wicked words twist in the breeze,
Telling the mouse that Owl is dead
While Owl’s wide eyes watch overhead.
He coaxes mother bird to sleep
Then makes her fledglings thrash and peep
Which rouses Snake from lidless rest.
He even helps it find the nest.
Moon Diver does all in his power
To waste the bloom on every flower,
To lure the worm to every root,
To blight the seed in every fruit,
To yank the tail of any cat,
No matter what or where it’s at,
So when the dogs set in to howl
Know that Moon Diver’s on the prowl.
Moon Diver never blinks an eye
But watches from a star-filled sky
Until some dreamer, unaware,
Invites him into his nightmare.
Anybody who knows me well at all knew that I would be returning to the myth of the Moon Diver. It is one that I invented, but I like it--the myth and the idea. There is no particular reason why I returned to Moon Diver at this point. I simply had the first few verses twirling in my head, and when I jotted them down, a few more felt like they needed to be added.
By the way, I have decided that the creature of the myth will simply be Moon Diver, not "The Moon Diver." I will not, however, be going back and changing the original poem.
Speaking of the original poem, for those of you who missed it back in the winter, I will repost it after I answer a question that I was asked by a reader via email.
A faithful blog reader asked, "Which weed are you talking about when you say "bitterweed?" There are lots of different bitterweeds."
Yes, there are various plants called bitterweed, and my dad called basically any weed with a yellow flower bitterweed. I am referring to the one pictured below, which is also called sneezeweed, yellow dick, bitter sneezeweed, and fiveleaf sneezeweed. I have only ever heard it called bitterweed. Here is a picture that I took this morning. The weed has practically taken over one bank at the fairgrounds next to the road where Kellie and I walk every morning.
Finally, here is the original, but heavily revised, version of Moon Diver, then known as The Moon Diver. Enjoy!
The Moon Diver
Have you heard of the Moon Diver,
A foul mischievous imp,
Who puts lines on ladies’ faces
And gives healthy fellows a limp?
He alters us while we’re sleeping
Or in a restless swoon
By diving straight into our dreams
From his perch on the swaying moon.
So, when the lamp glows overhead
Fasten the windows tight
And watch the sky with wary eye
For this naughty fairy in flight.
Don’t look for him too near the orb,
You cannot see him there,
For his skin is polished onyx,
And dragonfly wings form his hair.
No, it’s best to find him slinking
From the censuring sun
When it imbues the world with light
And nightmarish visions are done.
He spends his days in ponds and streams,
Inky watery nooks,
Performing nasty turtle tricks,
Tangling lines and straightening hooks,
Or sliding through unkempt gardens
Causing dried leaves to shake
And hiss as if they’re being stirred
By scales of a venomous snake.
When his tomfoolery is done,
He slithers out of sight
And schemes all day to act his worst
Under cover of looming night.
At dusk, he slinks up ivied trees,
As fledglings flee their nest.
He sits among the topmost limbs
And eagerly watches the west.
When no small sliver of the sun
Splinters the western skies,
He leaps up past the canine star,
Pulls its ears and punches its eyes.
He twists the ring in the bull’s nose,
Blaming poor Orion,
And plucks the hairs of both the bears,
Riding the back of the lion.
He hides behind the astral sphere,
Trailing it through the stars,
Stealing the seed god’s seven rings
And plucking the cherry of Mars.
Then, he squats with trembling haunches
On a pale lunar beam
Like an incubus sits on its victim
Waiting for a crippling dream.
When he hears unsettled moaning,
Moon Diver stands to leap
And falls dart-like through the black night
Into your delusional sleep.
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