Marugu Mo | + Follow Poet |
Free verse | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

A Poets Tryst

There was no glee in my reticence
While my silence fought the bard
The heavens opened and 
I peered into Poe's past
The lilies in this valley
Could not bear my harping
For they too had verses and lyres
Strung stuck on them like wasps
I was that wistful summer
And winter bore not my weight
The cold blue sky day
Was my tryst and my dreams
For surely as the moon, Poe's muse came by night
And left in a huff, like a leaf broken in half
There was no wrong or right
Just my fight broken daily
My melancholy was my morsel by day
And my reverie was no breaker of ice
For who could mend this muse
Who swam in my every heart and bruise
Who broke hearts of jade
Who was a blue lily, a stare, and a snare
It was every jackals day come
Even then, who could mend this muse
Who stared back at the mess
Of many a jackals haunt
Of broken jade and men

Please Login to post a comment

Daniel Turner Date: 4/27/2021 7:44:00 AM We all go through it Marugu. I think writing or trying to write everyday burns us out. In the beginning, when you first started writing, did you have to press to write? No, you just let it flow through you. Once a poet, always a poet only at the muse's pace. Be well old friend. Login to Reply Marugu Mo Date: 4/28/2021 1:08:00 AM Thank you Daniel for your welcome comments. I am rehashing some old writes see if they make sense. I have had the longest block...