martini alien blog

Art by Bob Canada, click illustration for more

There’s a backstory to this. I have a friend, writer J.D. Robinson aka Scamper, who among the plethora of interesting articles he loads in his feed, often posts to say he is writing science fiction. I usually counter that I am also writing (I am. Evidently there is some strange synchronicity between writers) and sometimes, if I am lucky, a humorous exchange ensues which just makes the crush my brain has on his brain more intractable. Thank Gods his brain is not from Scotland. (If you don’t get that reference, you should read my blog more often)

Me: Am Writing Poetry. Much less interesting than writing Sci Fi.
Scamper: Throw in some aliens, then we’ll see.
Me: Well, it’s open to interpretation. It could include aliens. *sigh* I only came here tonight to, “read the articles.” Now I feel challenged!
Scamper: Beh. I’m no poet. Aliens should be everywhere, I suppose.
Me: Challenge accepted! Never challenge a sleep challenged free verse poet unless you want a silly poem because I can’t resist spouting off some nonsense on the fly!


Things are always better
When you add a secret ingredient
Seven herbs and spices
A subtle flash of heat
Shake the cocktail, stir it twice
Add something green to the soup
The guests will rave every time
And they’ll wonder
Leave them guessing
Swirl it in
Mix it up
Something unexpected
A unique twist on a classic dish
It’ll be out of this world
If I take your advice
To “Throw in some aliens”
Then we’ll see
Everyone’s sure to want
My recipe

LM 2017

I was rewarded with “Stellar Work!” and “theremin sounds” This made my brain happy. I probably had to remind it about the Scotland thing to calm it down. What can I say? I get a lot of brain crushes. I also like to riff off other creative people and to collaborate.

By the way, if you or anyone you know likes to read, YA Science Fiction. you should check out J.D. Robinson’s book, The Hole In The World. He just came out with an updated edition and it’s available in paperback and for Kindle. Like many writers, Scamper hates promoting his own work, so running across this poem was a good reason to give it a shout out! I highly recommend it as it is an excellent read!




Best New Year’s Eve Ever!



The year started off with a magnificent full moon, but I forgot to go outside and see it. It gave me an excuse to thank my friends for putting up with all my Moon jokes in 2017. On social media, and in conversation anytime someone mentions, the moon, regardless of context, I almost compulsively comment as if they are talking about me. My last name is, Moon, get it? My sense of humor is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it is not nearly as groan worthy as my father’s was.  I blame my, inner 12 year old, my favorite, “get out of maturity” card.


By the way, this gorgeous painting is by an artist named, Jana Ireijo. It’s only $450. If I had a wall to hang it on, I’d probably be batting my eyelashes and saying, “please” a lot, right now.

Part One: Not Exactly Flush With Festive Spirit, My Inner Virgo, Pulls Out My To Do List

I have to say, I wasn’t sorry to see 2017 go, but I wasn’t feeling particularly excited about 2018 either. My situation is still a challenge, my soul still feels like it is weighed down by a stack of pianos topped by a vengeful elephant who is not tickled by the ivories! The ugliness that crowns our country is still swirling through it the way that murky flood waters churn, hiding shit and disease, dangerous objects and death. I don’t see much improvement on the horizon without a proper shakeup. Yes, it could happen, but I’m just not excited.

I was so, not feeling anything, this time around that I couldn’t even dig up a smidge of envy at the revelers gushing of their plans to party and dance the night away. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t feel up to making myself shiny and putting on a festive face. For once, the idea of kissing someone at midnight didn’t even glimmer in my mind. My loneliness was barely a blip on my radar. I just wanted it to be tomorrow already, to mark off another day of gears grinding. Honestly, my apathy was liberating.

I didn’t have any work, but I have been caring for my roommate’s cat. He’s been traveling a lot lately. He was home briefly and left again without buying cat litter and I had already used up the last of LiLi’s litter, adding it to his cat, Ichi’s box.  Things were getting smelly. I had to buy cat litter for both of them now, and so I ended up at Safeway on New Year’s Eve with two plastic jugs of gritty clay in my cart, while everyone else was buying alcohol.  You know you have reached the climax of full blown Cat Lady Spinsterhood when you spend your New Year’s Eve at Safeway, buying cat litter for your roommate’s cat. At least I put on lipstick and combed my hair first and I wasn’t in my bathrobe. Go me!


As if restocking the cat toilet on New Year’s Eve wasn’t awkward enough, I happened to step into line behind a former neighbor in the checkout. Continue reading

Insomnia Has My Life On Hold




Here’s a window on what it’s like to live with my disabilities, particularly the sleep disorder aspect:

Other than managing to make it to Friendsgiving, I’ve had a bad four day weekend, healthwise. I’ve missed several fun outings that I actually didn’t even know about. I think I often miss notices and event invitations posted online because I spend too much time sleeping, trying to sleep or scrambling to get things done during waking hours when it’s acceptable to do things. I suspect also that sometimes people stop inviting me because they know I have trouble getting up on time and they don’t want me to feel bad because I often can’t afford to do what they are inviting me to do. Ironically, when I have steady social activities I get better at getting up. I’ve probably spent 75% of the past 100 hours in my bed. My back is a wreck. I was recently assisted with the funds to buy cushiony and supportive bed stuff and I can’t wait, because that will improve my sleep quality and make waking up less painful. Every little bit helps!

For now though, extreme insomnia rages, I’m too exhausted and too old to grit my teeth, caffeinate, stay up and push through after a sleepless night so I eventually nap and then don’t wake up because I’ve fallen into REM sleep. Once there, I have intense dreams that are very real and long. I have quests in my sleep. I solve problems. I have love affairs. I do interesting things. I meet strangers. I speak to demigods and ghosts. I do some of my best writing while unconscious. It’s almost like I’m doing all my living in my sleep.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of what other people would call nightmares, but they rarely upset me. My distress at being attacked by someone sinister or chased by lions or zombies is often Continue reading

Did Someone Request A Bedtime Story?



Once upon a time there was a little girl with pink hair.

I know, I know, you are thinking her name probably starts with an A or a V, but you would be wrong. You’re thinking of a grown-up with pink hair who has delightful childlike qualities. This story is about a little girl, remember?

ANYWAY! The little girl in this story’s name is LuLu.

LuLu, by anyone’s standards, was a most adorable child. Her face was round and glowed like a peach. Her eyes were wide and blue, like a doll’s, but not one of those creepy dolls.  They were ringed with marvelously thick lashes that bumped ever so gently against the crest of her cheeks when she grew sleepy, which was frequently. When she smiled, her dimples were simply incorrigible! She wore her rosey hair high in two soft puffs, each tied with rainbow ribbons.

LuLu’s mother let her pick her own clothes. She never went outside without her favorites, a lavender overcoat, heart shaped tinted glasses, leopard print galoshes and an umbrella to match. The umbrella had a dangerous looking spike on the tip so LuLu’s mother had put a bit of cork on it, for safety. What she didn’t know, is that LuLu took the cork off as soon as she was out of her mother’s sight because you never know when you might be having an adventure and need to poke at something.  It rained often where LuLu lived and she was always hoping to find a nice, splashy puddle,

LuLu liked to go outside, but it didn’t happen very often because the other thing that LuLu was always hoping for, was to stay awake. Most of the time she was too sleepy to go stomp in puddles, chase butterflies or catch frogs. (The frogs were greatly relieved) Everytime she even thought about going outside LuLu would burp loudly and start to nod off. While other little girls tried to go to sleep and failed, she wanted to stay awake but couldn’t keep her lids up.

LuLu’s apparent narcolepsy was sometimes so severe that the little lass fell asleep while holding her mouth open for her mother to help her brush her teeth at night.  “Lulu,” she would scold as she flossed the little bits of meat from between the bicuspids on the inner row. “Tsk,” she clucked, “You shouldn’t eat so much, especially so close to bedtime. You are eating us out of house and home! For goodness sake! We can’t keep a cook and the school says you won’t be able to attend, if you can’t learn to control yourself.”

LuLu snapped back to consciousness with a snort and spit out her toothpaste. Her wide blue peepers were ready to spill saltwater in a heartbeat. She loved school almost as much as she loved her lavender overcoat. School had plenty of another thing she was always hoping for; food. School had snack time and lunchtime and naptime. While she slept, she dreamed of eating, chomping and gnawing. When she was awake, LuLu was always hungry.

But Mama! I love school! And I excel at naptime!

“LuLu, none of the other students can take a nap with you! According to their parents, most of them can’t sleep at night either. We are having quite a time smoothing things over. We may even have to homeschool you. IF we can find a tutor who is willing. Really, LuLu, I don’t know what we are going to do with you.”

LuLu pouted. She was even more adorable when she pouted. She didn’t cry, but her pink pom poms drooped a little. “But Mom.”

Her mother extended an arm, handing LuLu her pajamas. They had a funny print on them; crocodiles with bowler hats, penguins doing penguiny things, robots eating ice cream cones and of course, rainbows!

LuLu gave her mother a goodnight kiss and let herself be tucked in tightly. The light was turned out and she heard the latch click, firmly securing the door. Her mother told her this was for her own good. LuLu sometimes walked in her sleep and wandered off looking for food in the middle of the night. Through the heavy wood she heard her mother sigh, “I know you try to get along with others, LuLu, but your classmates are all terrified of you!”

I know, Mother.” LuLu answered solemnly, while in the dark she smiled, all four rows of teeth softly luminescent.

“But I can’t help it. They are delicious!”

*I scribbled this out quickly, for my friend, A, also known as Victoria Victrola, who like me, suffers from insomnia, because she requested a bedtime story.
She didn’t specify if she wanted a story to make her sleepy or one to keep her awake. Oh well. This is a silly little tale, so I hope that it does the trick.

The Night Opens


The night opens

The Night opens wide
And will sit on your tongue
Bitter or sweet
Your experience
Your Choice
Your Time
Your Lips
Your eyes
Let it in
Shut it out
It matters not to me
What you do with the night
Thick and sticky in your mouth
Clear as crystal in the palm of your hand
Worrying the worms of your brain
A thousand scarves waving in the breeze
Black scarves
And moth wings of grey
Charcoal smudges
Silvery waves
Red hot embers
On the soles of your feet
Sleep to dream
or sleep to die
Or sleep not at all
The night is free
But can make you a prisoner
Your experience
Your choice
Your time
Your eyes
Your lips

LM September 2015