adrift without end
your eyes
the only fixed point
the raft
I don't miss

#abstract #painting mine

We're having an online zoom launch for my new poetry collection This Joyful Interlude on 20th November, 7pm GMT.

If you want to come along to a friendly, relaxed evening of poetry and, if you wish, read a poem of your own, please sign up for free below

www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/this-joyfu...

#poetry

Sorry for not being as active. This is my private account under a pseudonym. I am a published indie poet already, but this is my safe space I go to post things that are less curated. Been really active on my main pages lately. A little overwhelmed. Hope you all are doing well!

sojourn-ing
can any of us stop
being breath to breath
being breathless
even if for a moment
even if pausing
where tumbled beauty
bores us rabbit hole souls
what is needed to feed body and id
the dark beneath
any placid demeanor
we wear joy
to taste Heaven here
a hard journey
every turn

LOVE IS PAIN OUT NOW

open.spotify.com/track/5I8aac...

are we all trying, loving,
failing cognitive dissonances?
are we more forgivable
or less forgivable
the more we contradict ourselves?

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

Not a huge fan of anything that is "the best in" whatever topic. The best according to a board of people who may or may not occassionally share my tastes and interests??? You can't know what the majority wants anymore. We're too individual for that now.

everywhere i go
is another me
watching my life light
like a burning glove.
if only, if only
i could give her flowers
instead of watching her
from the other side
as an encounter.

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

PREORDER:

Anna Brook’s Motherhood: A Ghost Story is an unguarded, lyrical excavation of the thresholds between presence and absence, memory and immediacy, selfhood and care.

www.brokensleepbooks.com/product-page...

Marcellina Oseghale Akpojotor, artist who combines tiny pieces of ankara fabric to create portraits of Nigerian women #WomensArt

"Thé Fatigue" 🌸 2022 Inspired by Gustav Klimt ~ Unknown

i’m not jealous, i’m not
giant. i got no rocks
to throw at that.
i’ve been in rooms
where i’ve been disrespected
and i’ve done better—

i’ve let them have their
mud verses of me, hell,
i’ve written mud verses...

#literarycommunity #poetrycommunity #mudverses

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

the Capricorns knew to scale vertical faces
Sun was far too slippery between mountains
to ever trust where the light went inside a person
the human herd is not often immune to stoop id
nor other sundry relevance turned into a material value
or a religion of this i know sum thing to have to hold

"But remember this: I didn’t invoke nemesis. I merely showed up, and started the work they’ll call my life. It was not I who said: Fashionable Exile. It was I who said: Let me go on living. And let the living be more than what they think I deserve."

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

anyway, if you asked us, we’d lie
and call it a new perspective
when in fact
i go out in the field
to put cashmere on
the scarecrows
because guilt
is a filthy act on top
of a filthier act,
and i know the sheep
will come and chew
the clothes off
my argument.

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

what is an ending?
will you tell me
why i live the thoughts
of the yet to be
than the living.
the dead me
she is ancient,
and there are many of her.
each day she dies
she adds another god
to her pantheon
like a row
of cum stained
and shriveled up nylons…

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

“found object self. she wants a knowing. she’s only in parts, so she asks the dadaist to make her a hat out of fortunes.”

—moon meehan: uncurated files: the philosopher as a lost hat.

welcome to the scattered thought clan. would you like to stay a while?

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...

Hey-o!

I am Moon Meehan. I’m a contemporary poet who is here to spill my uncurated poetry and feral diary slop. I am looking for others who are interested in re-igniting the intrigue in literature that pushes boundaries, and putting the zeal of curiosity and experimentation back in literature.

"whoever gets to heaven will be alone with god—a god—a self / as a symposium of dead gods"

--feral diary slop from moon meehan's uncurated files series

#stayuncurated #experimentalwriting #feralconfessions

open.substack.com/pub/moonmeeh...