Friday Poem
© 19 Aug 2011 Luther Tychonievich
Licensed under Creative Commons: CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
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Friday Poem

“‍A blue moon falls from an empty sky where never star has gleamed…‍”


That first line came to me in the shower. It seemed to suggest a rather intricate rhyme scheme—why I don’t know—and from that this chant was born. Its composition arose from trying to follow a set of self-imposed technical requirements without making a technical-sounding piece. It came out quite a lot darker than I would have guessed considering it is such a lovely day.

Untitled Poem

A blue moon falls from an empty sky where never star has gleamed.
An old man moves through the empty streets where never people teamed.
In all the land, ne’er was seen by eye a single sight at all;
Not in the square where no one meets nor in the towers tall.

For cold is on the ground, so Cold!
And age is all around, so Old!
There’s nothing to be found, I fear
Except the rain, the cloud’s own tear.

For weeping high in the skies above an unseen cloud has past,
And in its wondering saddened way, a shadow it has cast.
No hope exists, far less so love, to still that awful cry;
The shadow noise must ceaseless say “‍No hope is in the sky.‍”

For sadness is the cloud’s own tear.
There is no hope around, just fear.
The sky’s as cold as ground, so Cold!
And ancient things abound, so Old!

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