Calliope the muse
goddess of all that rhymes,
lead me on a pathway
to the garden where sweet
words grow in your bright ray
Calliope the muse,
sister of all music,
song and dance, enchant me,
pick up your lyre and play
in the mystical key.
Calliope the muse
of the beautiful voice,
the mother of sirens;
lover of gods and kings,
your home is asylum.
Calliope the muse,
let your voice be my voice,
together we will charm
stubborn rocks, change the course
of rivers and rejoice.
I love the wrinkles upon her face
Each one completes a story
Of a time when we were younger
Living life in all her glory
I love the gray hair on her head
Each caused by a new worry
That we conquered as a team
For which we need not be sorry
I love the age spots on her flesh
Each worn like a badge of honor
I’m aware of each new award
God selects to pin upon her
I love the creaks of her bones
When she bends to sit beside me
Each note adding beauty to the song
Played by our tandem life calliope
Under her magic, honeyed words poured forth
filling his fervent verse with rhyme and wit
for suitors to woo and doxies commit
to carnal indulgence and thus henceforth
as topmost poetaster of the north
his purse was filled with gold and silver bit.
But at autumn's end, away he would split
to rest in warm climes until May the fourth.
Then an El Nino year, when she stayed south
his verse thickened, treacle in climate's scold
his sharp pen, now dull, only rent the page
full of awkward phrases, crude and uncouth
his once bright parlance now tattered and old
as her light shifted to another stage.
Can't explain
an emotional surge
lingered in thoughts
listless soul speaks
in metered gasps
of breathless sighs
pulse of words fall
eminent on page
September 1, 2019
just scribbling inspired by Vijay's comment on one of my recent poems
With a name literally meaning "beautiful-voiced" (from kallos, meaning "beauty," and ops, meaning "voice"), Calliope was the most prominent of the Muses-the nine sister goddesses who in Greek mythology presided over poetry, song, and the arts and sciences. She is represented in art as holding an epic poem in one hand and a trumpet in the other.
my hand
on a keyboard
span an octive and
a one
note over
but this poem
is
not
written
by or
for the
Muse Euterpe
in fact
one would
think mine are
inspired
by Erato but
MI Musa's name
is the
Greek honey
bee so named
Melissa
never
to be
for
got
ten
Concentric ripples form as I skip rocks in the twilight
As I ponder plain spoken words that became recondite
I detect notes of Frangipani as a sultry sylph speaks
I break bread in ancestral lands in awe at the mystique
Soon, a great avian menagerie gathers all around
Mockingbirds mimic the mage's mellifluous sounds
The luscious beauty's words go from pellucid to obscure
I sit diffident yet dissolute while gazing at the demure
The vermilion bird flies around looking for a perch to choose
Withholding its succor until it finds the right muse to infuse
My muse sighs and leaves me unwell
and cuckolds me like faithless love
as if she's ne'er my god or belle,
afflatus or creative breath
who came from the summits above
to save me from poetic death!
"Why go, O Calliope!?" I yell;
her leaving brings about such woe
and inexpressible sorrow
that's too profound, too deep to tell:
I pray to Zeus I'll never know
this Melancholia of hell!
My muse sighs and takes leave of me,—
I yell, "Why go, O Calliope!?
Was once inspired, but now too tired
To search for more expressive ways
To convey my Heart's inert Desires-
The place where my Ideas played
I beg of thee, sweet Calliope,
To fill my Mind with budding Prose
But I am touched by Melpomene-
In freezing Fires, thus reposed
My outlook dreary, I have a theory-
That I shall stay forever weary
And I see it, Oh! Quite clearly
That I shall miss them all so dearly!
My Muses Mute; But Atropos
The Fate that begged for one more post
With her Shears shorn ev'ry fear
That I might write as just a Ghost
*Be My Reason Contest Entry
Will you help me find the words
Oh Calliope
I need a muse, something to inspire
Oh Calliope
Find the words to enchant
Oh Calliope
Everything I give
Everything I write
Everything I want
Everything I need
Everything I try
You will inspire
So come to me
Enchanting me
Oh Calliope
You're all really need
Oh Calliope
The words I write
Tainted by your touch
Oh Calliope
You are not to know
What will become of thee
Oh Calliope
You are my heart
You are my soul
You’re all I used to be
So whisper to me
Oh Calliope
Everything I give
Everything I write
Everything I want
Everything I need
Everything I try
You will inspire,
So come to me
Enchanting me
Oh Calliope
I could always need you
Something I can always use
so go on
enchant me
oh Calliope
Everything I give
Everything I write
Everything I want
Everything I need
Everything I try
You will inspire
So come to me
enchanting me
oh Calliope
The form is not in the list. This form is Ae Freislighe
Calliope tutelage
“There be tales from times not told,
brought back through your lineage,
dreams dredged from dark days of old”
Animate lost Anima
place a new thinking cap on
hang up hero’s panama
parlay phrases till past dawn
Here sit I, laptop clicking
chickens chiding privilege
wrapped in writing, clock ticking
Calliope tutelage.