Moondarkened #poetry #dVerse

I spend the shadow-side
of my life in
Moondarkness
over on the far side of the moon
where no sound penetrates
we lose
radio contact
I pass in silent orbit
behind the shadows of everyday life
Moondarkned:
face to face with everything 
I’ve ever hoped or feared;
Moondarkened
I’m a smoked-glass tinted
pain-inspired
seer.

My hope: to see you on the other side
My hope, you are still near.

© 202experimentsinfiction.com. All Rights Reserved.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Sharing with dVerse

It’s Open Link Night over at dVerse, so I’m sharing a poem about my experience with PMDD, which also seems like a suitable theme for Halloween. Sometimes I feel as though I’m passing on the dark side of the moon:

95 thoughts on “Moondarkened #poetry #dVerse

Add yours

  1. Very interesting, and fetchingly metaphoric. So sad to hear you have a “lady’s” disorder to deal with. Each of us has our cross to bear it seems. I liked “I pass in silent orbit behind the shadows of everyday life”.

  2. Great voice. It is good to reflect and come out of that darkened journey, to a place where there is much light and warmth. Sending you sunshine smiles!!!

  3. Familiar with the condition from a previous relationship I feel like I can say you’ve captured it extremely well here Ingrid. Love the hopefulness in the closing couplet, though. Thanks for sharing.

  4. Oh this caught at my heartstrings, the yearning mixed with hope, the darkness circling the daily motions of life. Wonderfully wrought, Ingrid. Praying the pain will disperse into light.
    pax,
    dora

  5. Thank you for this poem. At first I didn’t get it but at soon as I read that PMDD inspired your poem, I read the poem again and it was clearer than clear. Hugs.

  6. I enjoyed “in silent orbit
    behind the shadows of everyday life.”
    It feels like we’ve been on the dark side of the moon without radio contact for years and space madness has set in.

  7. Lovely, Ingrid. I could really sense that feeling of no sound that space evokes, that permeating silence. Love the lines:

    “I’m a smoke-glass tinted
    pain-inspired
    seer.”

    <3

  8. A beautiful poem Ingrid. Sometimes it is much better to stay out of the spotlight. Life on the dark side of the moon can be very consoling for some!

  9. Oh dear Ingrid, using metaphor, you have offered insight into the isolation that accompanies your ongoing pain and your last two lines reveal the longing to return to life, to normal, to relationships (with others and yourself w/out the burden of pain). I hope writing and sharing offers you some comfort. 💗

    1. Thank you Michele: I’m on the light side now, but the knowledge of the shadows waiting can be disturbing if you don’t know how to handle them! ❤️

  10. “the shadow side of life” is such a powerful concept, and the whole thing is full of wonderful imagery.

  11. Beautiful transitions here, a true feeling of passage through the night dark as space. The last three lines before the final couplet are my favorite–and I love the title and refrain.

  12. like the moon suffering goes in cycles, cutting off from others as we deal with it alone … my gosh those actors are so young, it must be an old movie 🙂

  13. The moon, of course is the perfect metaphor to convey the dark and isolating effect of your moon-month condition (which I just read about following your link, thank you for sharing)

    I love the final lines:
    “My hope: to see you on the other side
    My hope, you are still near.”

    Be well, and bring that hope with you.
    ~peace, Jason

  14. Ingrid, “dark side of the moon” is so expressive of your pain and feelings of isolation! Thank you for sharing with others who may have similar experiences. <3 I don't experience cyclical problems, but do deal with sudden, unpredictable bouts of fatigue. Wishing you all the best!

  15. You are not alone, Ingrid as that metaphor of the dark side of the moon is relevant. But see how the cycle repeats? That’s the cycle of life. And I want to send you all the sunshine I can fit into these lines to you a.s.a.p. ((If I had a day that I could give you– I’d give to you a day just like today… sunshine!) Good vibes too.
    And if you look around, you will see me standing next to you on the dark side. You are not alone!
    Be well, my sweets.

  16. PMS is bad enough. I never suffered from it too much and rather enjoyed the monthly cycle. Many friends didn’t! I didn’t realise how bad it can get though. The poem explains some of the hard time you are having, month onto month! Sorry.

    1. Yes, for some of us the disruption and trauma is off the scale! But we fight on and do advocacy work, because too many women are suffering and not being taken seriously.

      1. The bright side of the moon is cold and bleak enough without having to dwell in the no-woman’s-land of the dark side. Strength and compassion.

  17. A stunning poem Ingrid. Specific and yet also general. I understand your struggles, I welcomed menopause with open arms — hot flushes are nothing compared to what my monthly cycle put me through….

    1. I think many women are struggling without even knowing they have this condition. It’s often misdiagnosed as things like bipolar, and I can understand why!

      1. I enjoyed the film but didn’t find it as terrifying as my children did. I wonder if it’s something that changes as you grow older. I remember a BBC scary that I wasn’t allowed to watch called The Stone Tapes but I crept downstairs and got bits of it. Scared me to death when I was little. I watched it last year and couldn’t for the life of me understand what was scary about it.

      2. I was terrified by Hanging Rock as a teenager, but not anymore. The only thing which still terrifies me is Twin Peaks…

      3. I’ve never seen that. Perhaps if I’d seen Hanging Rock when I was younger it would have affected me differently. I loved it later but for different reasons. It was such a blow to discover the story was a very elaborate literary hoax. When the film came out, I think everyone still believed it was based on a true story.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: