When There Is No Inspiration
I lock my eyes, the flesh, false eyes,
And my ears that drown in idle lies
And block eyes of every hair strand,
And declare curfew in the entire brand.
Only my mind’s eye, the fair eye,
From top to dusty toe, now can fly
To find the wispy culprit, that walls
Muses — coming with enticing tales.
If he fails to sap that tasteless knave,
To the junkyard, heart’s murky cave,
He wades like a fish through debris
And brings me leftovers by Calliope.
I burn, breathe and make them agile,
And mail you, to see you softly smile.
* A 3rd Place* in the following contest (judged on Oct. 8, 2020)
Oct. 4, 2020
When there is no inspiration Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Silent One
Copyright © Newton Ranaweera | Year Posted 2020
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