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Showing posts with label Muse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Muse. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 27, 2020


The well ran dry, sand

Conceals the oasis, lost

Erased in the winds


My broken body

Bruised by falling stones, bloodied

Burnt beneath the sun


Comb the barren hills

Hard rock rise into mountains

Cold and forbidding


Spirits come to dance

Howl beneath the lonely stars

Freezing in the night


Diana condescends

Her pale disc lights the valley

Sleeping in shadows


The muse stole my voice

Stripped it clean from my parched throat

Left me in the dust

Tuesday, February 19, 2019


Her blonde curls, blue eyes
I wanted to run away
With her, skip the world

I kissed her, full soft
Lips, pink as the blushing rose
Hands on her hips, breasts

Something in my blood
Stirring in me, the Viking
Sailing by starlight

Lips and tongues touching
Our breathing closed the distance
Between us in the dark

A naked embrace
In a cool summer lake, on
A warm summer night

The touch of the muse
The water nymph, a goddess
Inspiring and kind

Wearing her token
Bending to the angelic
Vision of grace

Tuesday, February 12, 2019


To be enticed
Caught in the net of beauty
The brilliant flare

Lit, the swinging arc
Bright against the cold gray sky
The light of the muse

A golden vision
I could not keep her hot gaze
Daughter of Thunder

Moved by my longing
Like a moth, drawn to the flame
Set against the night

Taken in the grip
Of passion, The touch of love
Forbidden, enthralled

Lost in the rapture
Floating on a cloud of bliss
Drugged, consumed, forgotten

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Of Poetry and Misery

Oh bastion of virtue, portico of romantics, Muse
Make me pure again

Mortal that I am, re-birth me in your golden light
A child of the Furies

My broken feet are bleeding, tired of dragging against time
Driven through the mire

My shell of being, I am weary of seeing, feeling
Still born in still-life

I haunt the static spaces, in the freedom of my dreams
Forgotten, the will to be…be not

Where is the dream now, the promised-land, love and grace
Why now withhold your hand, bar the gate

Oh god of visions, Apollo, poet, you are the sun
The sire of Sisyphus, the wise…the condemned

The good king was right, life is a joke, only the gods are laughing
We are creatures of ridicule

Who am I, what is the meaning of life, where is my purpose?

When can I answer the eternal questions…Why?
Why me? Why you?

Why is the sky blue? Does anything matter…anything at all?
What can knowing do?

Every beating heart, pounds the rhythm of its dreams
We are carried away by them

The Echo of madness leads nowhere, we are lost in the wild

            Drowned in pools of desire, of vanity

Tuesday, April 25, 2017


Soft curving vision
Radiant with passion’s heat
Burning in the flesh

Spellbound in bright eyes
Depth without measure, reflect
Waves, and wind, and tide

Listen, a question
Voice, resounding and faultless
Eternal echo

She lifts and she falls
Her dance sweeps the horizon
Muse of the dark night

Siren of poets
Con-joined to the infinite
Fill the empty pen

Tuesday, November 22, 2016


Hallway of mirrors
Bright floor glowing, dancers lift
Stretch, the bar of dreams

Wandering muses
Alight, the satire of age
The wise comedy

The ballerina
Dancing blindly in worn shoes
Floating, falling, free

The arresting smile
Cold mask of innocence
Shatters in repose

Ballerina, doll
Alive under pressure, rise
The passionate life

Resist, release, fly
Experience the wonder

The timeless movement