Erik Elizalde
Issue Editor, Art Director, and Image Curator
Poems by
Eric Ruiz, Don Campbell, Emily Mack, Sean Botnick,
Coco Ramirez, Adrian Ernesto Cepeda, and David Sanchez
All images are public domain
Moon Theme and Title Conceived by Inscape Fall 2018 Staff
Issue Editor, Art Director, and Image Curator
Poems by
Eric Ruiz, Don Campbell, Emily Mack, Sean Botnick,
Coco Ramirez, Adrian Ernesto Cepeda, and David Sanchez
All images are public domain
Moon Theme and Title Conceived by Inscape Fall 2018 Staff
FROM THE ISSUE EDITOR: The Moon reminds me of enjoyable activities and absolute peace. The presence of the Moon acts as a beacon to those who enjoy and appreciate silence. The Moon rests high above and gifts many with reprieve from daily interactions. The Moon provides light to the world. The Moon allows us each to retreat into ourselves. Whether you enjoy reading, writing, watching films, playing video games, listening to music, creating art, coding, conducting experiments, or just simply relaxing, the Moon gives us the blessing of solace and time. But remember . . . out there in the dark, among the shadows and strangers, you must maintain extreme caution. As the great H.P. Lovecraft said, "I hate the moon--I am afraid of it-- for when it shines on certain scenes familiar and loved it sometimes makes them unfamiliar and hideous."
--Erik Elizalde, April 2019
--Erik Elizalde, April 2019
Stargazing al Fresco Murals
Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
How I wanted to be her canvas.
I would’ve loved to sit for her
at night, she loved touching
darkness exploring planetary
space with the shadows of all
those galaxy skies. There were
nights I would catch her staring
at my silhouettes that would satellite
a little longer filling in the shades,
she loved to reach trying to brush
with the stars for inspiration
she would leap out of bed at two
in the morning, and glide to
the balcony barefoot to watch
the moon reawakening I would love
to see her face, knowing even
from behind I could feel her
glowing often ruminating
solar systems of canvases.
But the moon made her feel
microscopic. She could never
capture the intimacy of her
favorite luna trying to recreate
every interstellar orbiting inside
my lover gripping her paintbrush
conjuring al fresco murals, she left
me feeling ignored, cosmically eclipsed
with moon envy, always from behind
wanting to see what she envisioned
with her telescope eyes, wishing
I could glow gazing at stars
with every paint that dripped,
exploring all she missed within
I would watch her staring
at the cosmos, super nova waiting
for her nebula of colors to arrive.
Appreciation Letter to my Nightlight
|
Dark Moon
|
Moon Poetry
Don Campbell
Luna, a grand circle with so many circles of different sizes on the surface
Deimos, triangular potato complete with some scattered eyes
Phobos, lumpy cratered rock been nicked big time a few times
Ganymede, giant crystal sphere, mostly cloudy, with what looks like a night sky inside
Callisto, like looking at the Earth at night, lights everywhere, but no water
Io, a huge round pizza, salivate at all that bubbling cheese
Europa, a hazy blue ball laden with crowded crimson scratching, like a child drew on it
Titan, appears a heavily clouded blue and green, yin and yang, north and south
Rhea, the whitest moon, is it made of chalk, can I draw with it
Iapetus, could one possibly fit more craters on a single circular object, and that seam in the
middle, a death star
Dione, one of the prettiest, with long pale streaks like prehistoric cave art
Tethys, a moon's moon, textbook example of a crater-filled bright world
Enceladus, so many grooves all over, did a clay potter craft it
Mimas, the real inspiration for the death star, with that one enormous crater near the equator
Titania, much like our moon, with even better streaked light spots seemingly evenly spaced
Oberon, sporting some extensive rays, is the carbon copy of our lunar wonder
Umbriel, blue, dominantly striated blues, with a smooth baby blue behind
Ariel, is there a message etched on its gray surface, the solar system logo
Miranda, seems to be an ice cream world, a snowy scoop roughly packed, ready for eating, or
throwing
Triton, like a marble, sporting a northern azure haze swirling above a muddy mass
Charon, mini-moon, a mere 1,000 odd kilometers across, got a red smudge for a north pole
And dozens more little balls and potatoes of shapes larger and smaller than Los Angeles
Deimos, triangular potato complete with some scattered eyes
Phobos, lumpy cratered rock been nicked big time a few times
Ganymede, giant crystal sphere, mostly cloudy, with what looks like a night sky inside
Callisto, like looking at the Earth at night, lights everywhere, but no water
Io, a huge round pizza, salivate at all that bubbling cheese
Europa, a hazy blue ball laden with crowded crimson scratching, like a child drew on it
Titan, appears a heavily clouded blue and green, yin and yang, north and south
Rhea, the whitest moon, is it made of chalk, can I draw with it
Iapetus, could one possibly fit more craters on a single circular object, and that seam in the
middle, a death star
Dione, one of the prettiest, with long pale streaks like prehistoric cave art
Tethys, a moon's moon, textbook example of a crater-filled bright world
Enceladus, so many grooves all over, did a clay potter craft it
Mimas, the real inspiration for the death star, with that one enormous crater near the equator
Titania, much like our moon, with even better streaked light spots seemingly evenly spaced
Oberon, sporting some extensive rays, is the carbon copy of our lunar wonder
Umbriel, blue, dominantly striated blues, with a smooth baby blue behind
Ariel, is there a message etched on its gray surface, the solar system logo
Miranda, seems to be an ice cream world, a snowy scoop roughly packed, ready for eating, or
throwing
Triton, like a marble, sporting a northern azure haze swirling above a muddy mass
Charon, mini-moon, a mere 1,000 odd kilometers across, got a red smudge for a north pole
And dozens more little balls and potatoes of shapes larger and smaller than Los Angeles
Moonchylde
David Sanchez
Hathor, you orbit
your mother moon
Cloaked in star-
Studded black,
You hold on to her
And she holds on to you
With your gravities,
Locked in an embrace
In deep space
It goes on and on
And on…illuminated by starfire
To us here on earth
You are old
With your weathered
Face, beaten
And molded by
Debris, but you are
Young to your sisters
And mother
The goddesses
From planet Z
Convene secret
Councils upon
Your frosted
Glass surface,
Bathing in blood-
Red hot springs
And choreographing
Scared dances
To the beat
Of drums
The women
On planet Earth
Feel it in their backs
And between
Their legs
The cleansing tides pour
Down and out
Of their bodies
In red pipe organ
Chords and rivers,
Releasing their eggs
Their barren moons
When night falls
Hathor takes her place,
Illuminating the dark
Though the light
Is not her own
But a unique reflection
Of a star’s
your mother moon
Cloaked in star-
Studded black,
You hold on to her
And she holds on to you
With your gravities,
Locked in an embrace
In deep space
It goes on and on
And on…illuminated by starfire
To us here on earth
You are old
With your weathered
Face, beaten
And molded by
Debris, but you are
Young to your sisters
And mother
The goddesses
From planet Z
Convene secret
Councils upon
Your frosted
Glass surface,
Bathing in blood-
Red hot springs
And choreographing
Scared dances
To the beat
Of drums
The women
On planet Earth
Feel it in their backs
And between
Their legs
The cleansing tides pour
Down and out
Of their bodies
In red pipe organ
Chords and rivers,
Releasing their eggs
Their barren moons
When night falls
Hathor takes her place,
Illuminating the dark
Though the light
Is not her own
But a unique reflection
Of a star’s
About the Poets
Adrian Ernesto Cepeda says "My goal is to write poetry every day because when inspiration calls, you must accept the charges. With every poem, I feel my poetic flame strengthening with every line I create. I am eager to exceed the creative challenges I will face in the years ahead while working on and honing my craft of poetry." Adrian's second book of poems is available now! Visit his website: www.AdrianErnestoCepeda.com
Emily Mack is from Chicago, where she was a proud participant in the Louder Than a Bomb poetry slam. Currently she studies writing at Columbia University and her work has appeared in Quarto Magazine, Tabula Rasa, and The Best Teen Writing series. She is the recipient of the 2017 Maggie Nelson Nonfiction Prize.
Emily Mack is from Chicago, where she was a proud participant in the Louder Than a Bomb poetry slam. Currently she studies writing at Columbia University and her work has appeared in Quarto Magazine, Tabula Rasa, and The Best Teen Writing series. She is the recipient of the 2017 Maggie Nelson Nonfiction Prize.
Don Kingfisher Campbell, MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University Los Angeles, has taught Writers Seminar at Occidental College Upward Bound for 34 years, been a coach and judge for Poetry Out Loud, a performing poet/teacher for Red Hen Press Youth Writing Workshops, L.A. Coordinator and Board Member of California Poets In The Schools, poetry editor of the Angel City Review, publisher of Spectrum magazine, and host of the Saturday Afternoon Poetry reading series in Pasadena, California. For awards, features, and publication credits, please go to: http://dkc1031.blogspot.com
David Sanchez is somebody. He has a longstanding interest in mythology, symbolism, and dreams. He is a creative person by nature, dabbling in all sorts of art forms, but primarily a visual artist. As such, his writing is very descriptive, gaining influences from all sorts of artists including Zdzislaw Beksinski, Boticcelli, and Tony Diterlizzi. His writing influences are Meredith Anne Pierce, Brandon Mull, and Ali Shaw. David practices writing by observation similar to how a painter will practice painting or drawing still lives. It is cliché but he has indeed written about a bowl of fruit. Writing a story is the next step in his evolution of writing. While description is his strong suit, story and character development are not.
Sean Botnick is an on again, off again writer of short stories taking his first steps into the world of poetry. The California native grew up reading fantasy, science fiction, and horror from perhaps too early an age, and those interests have largely painted his works in the very same shades. Roger Zelazny and Stephen King being the most prominent writers in his life when he began experimenting with words of his own at the age of 14.
Eric Ruiz says, " I don’t really know who I am, but when I write music, poetry, and stories, they help me define myself. As a child, I created short-films with my video camera, played music with instruments on speakers, wrote stories pen and paper, and made paintings on the wall. Growing up, one of my favorite musicians/poets was Jim Morrison from the Doors. The absurdity in his poetry intrigues me the most. Since a child, I felt like I could create just as well as anyone else can, vice versa, and that mindset still hasn’t left my head. It’s 2018, and technology allows everyone the ability to make something innovative, especially in the music & film world. I believe people need to use their creativity (either as a hobby/profession), and if we don’t, we start to experience emptiness. Our lives become dull if we can’t create. What is there to do if we can’t create? We would seem like robots without creativity. Because of the Internet/TV, we live in a time where sharing your ideas/arts are easier than ever before, so why not share? Who am I? I’m just like you, and I feel like we should all shoot for the moon, the stars, and beyond."
Coco Ramirez is a PCC Student with a thirst for knowledge and a desire to inspire by pushing the boundaries of life. Writing poetry, children's literature and other literary works has been a secret passion since childhood. Born into a life of medical impossibilities, numerous traumas, and abuse, writing provided strength and endurance to carry on. Mother of two boys which was deemed medically impossible due to the nature of the vast medical conditions sustained throughout life, Coco was given a life expectancy of 18, but armed with determination, she is now 40 and is fiercely fighting “to reach the unreachable star” and prove that “true love conquers all”.
